BLOOD GIFT

CHAPTER 05 :THE QUIET HUNTER

The horses the chief of Graith gave them were tough and fast. The four members of The Shattered Fang rode with a new sense of purpose. Jon kept whistling, occasionally turning back to Holst.

"Did you hear that, Holst? 'You're welcome in the bar anytime!'" Jon mimicked the server girl, Grace.

Holst sighed, clutching the reins tighter. "Shut up, Jon. It was nothing."

"It was a kiss! On the cheek! The first action a girl has taken on any of us, and it had to be you, Mr. Grumpy Face."

Mercy, riding behind Jon, chimed in, "Holst has a girlfriend! Holst has a girlfriend!"

"I swear, if one more person says that, I'm going to start running barefo—” Holst cut himself off, realizing he didn’t want to run barefoot through the Outlands.

Isabel, leading the group on her horse, simply smiled. She was happy. They were out, they had a name, and they had completed their first mission. Even if Jon and Mercy acted like the children they were, they were doing this together.

They rode until midday, and the terrain began to change. The flat farmlands gave way to steep, rocky hills covered in dense forest. The air grew cooler and wetter.

"According to this map," Jon said, pulling out the old paper, "we should hit the Steel River Bridge soon. It’s the fastest way to Hilston Market."

Just as he said it, a sharp, metallic clang echoed from ahead, followed by shouting. Isabel immediately pulled her horse to a halt.

"Trouble," she stated, her tail twitching nervously.

They dismounted and tied their horses to a sturdy tree line before sneaking forward on foot. When they reached the edge of the path, they saw the problem. A massive rockslide had completely buried the Steel River Bridge. Not only was the path blocked, but a small group of Korrath-affiliated Brutes—bulky, intimidating people with crude bone prosthetics—were digging through the debris, shouting orders at smaller, weaker laborers.

"Looks like a work crew, or maybe a Korrath territorial claim," Holst observed, his hand resting near his Stone’s Kiss crossbow.

"We don't want anything to do with Korrath so early," Jon whispered. "Their Bone Shaping Gift makes them too dangerous in a close fight, and they're always hungry for resources."

"So, what do we do?" Mercy asked. "Go all the way around? That adds two days to the trip."

As they spoke, an older man with a long, grey beard approached them quietly from the forest on their left. He wore simple leather clothes, like a hermit.

"You won't get through there, children," the man said, his voice raspy. "That rockslide is fresh, and those Korrath brutes will run you through just for watching."

"We need to get to Hilston Market quickly," Isabel said, stepping forward. "Is there another way?"

The old man squinted at her, his eyes lingering on the faint blue scales at her neck—a feature of her Blood Gift. "There is. The Whispering Trail. It's an old hunter's path, cuts through the Deep Woods, and gets you across the river upstream. Only those with keen senses can follow it, though. It’s too faint for human eyes."

"I can do it," Isabel insisted.

The man scratched his beard. "I believe you can, child of the Beast. But the path is dangerous, and there's a price for the knowledge. A small one."

Jon stepped up, holding out a few copper coins. "We can pay."

"I don't need copper," the man smiled, showing a lack of several teeth. "I am a healer, and my supplies are low. Deep inside the Whispering Trail is the Glow Moss. It grows only in the darkest caves, and it's guarded by the thickest roots and the fastest shadows. Bring me a decent handful, and I'll give you the directions and a map that won't get you lost."

"A side quest," Jon grinned at Holst. "I love it."

"No combat, though," Holst warned. "I can track, but the deep woods is too much cover. We need to be fast."

"I’ll be the scout," Isabel decided. "Holst and Mercy, you stay with Jon. I can run fast, and my senses will lead me straight to the moss."

Jon nodded. He knew Isabel was the best for this. He activated his Mimic Gift just enough to send a slight wave of reassurance to her mind—a trick he sometimes used to calm her nervousness before a solo run.

Isabel didn't waste time. She found a quiet place beneath a curtain of thick vines and shifted. The transformation was swift: her skin pulled taut, the thick blue-black cobalt scales spread across her limbs, and her arms lengthened, becoming more powerful. Her face elongated into a muzzle, and her human eyes turned large, luminous yellow. She was a sleek, deadly creature of the wild.

"Stay close to the edge of the woods. Wait for my signal," she commanded, her voice now a low, rumbling growl.

She shot off into the trees, a blur of dark scales and speed.

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Deep in the Woods

The Whispering Trail was barely there. It was more a memory of a path than an actual road. Yet, in her Beast Form, Isabel saw it perfectly. Her powerful nose registered the ancient, faint scents of the healer and past hunters, following the invisible breadcrumbs.

The sun barely reached the forest floor, forcing Isabel to rely on her other senses. Her large yellow eyes were useless in this gloom, but her ears were phenomenal, tracking the sound of her own muscles flexing, the distant drip of water, and the rustle of tiny woodland creatures.

She ran for a long time, the familiar rhythm of her Beast Form washing away all thought except the hunt. She felt fast, strong, and silent.

Suddenly, her ears picked up a new sound: a constant, low, rhythmic drumming.

Drip... drip... thrum.

It was the moss.

She slowed down, finding a massive formation of jagged black rocks that looked like the ancient skeleton of a fallen giant. This was the cave where the Glow Moss grew.

The entrance was blocked by a network of impossibly thick, ancient tree roots, woven together like a giant, hardened net. These roots were alive and moving slowly, trying to ensnare anything that touched them. This was the guard the old man had mentioned.

Isabel’s tail flicked as she analyzed the root network. Too strong to tear, too dense to squeeze through. She closed her eyes, letting her senses expand. Her nose picked up the sweet, earthy scent of the moss on the other side.

The key wasn't force; it was speed and timing.

She saw the roots weren't constantly moving, but shifted in slow, predictable patterns, leaving tiny gaps. She needed to thread the needle.

In a blinding flash of speed, Isabel darted forward. The first gap was narrow, scraping the scales on her shoulder. The second gap required her to twist her body completely vertical, feet over head, before dropping through just as the root snapped shut. She moved like liquid shadow, powered by instinct, not thought.

Clang!

A root, thicker than a man’s torso, slammed shut where her tail had been a half-second before. She was through.

She was inside a small, damp cave. The light was astonishing. Pale green, blue, and gold moss clung to the roof and walls, glowing with a soft, steady light. It was beautiful and eerie.

Isabel gathered a large handful of the moss, stuffing it into a pouch she wore around her neck. As she turned to look for the way out, she saw something embedded in the cave wall, partially covered by the moss.

It was a piece of polished black stone, intricately carved. The carving was a detailed, perfect portrait of a Falcon, its wings spread wide, gripping a spear in its talons. The carving was old, ancient even, but perfectly preserved.

A boundary marker.

The tarrith sigil it was a chimera, a hybrid between different beasts . That was the symbol of Tarrith, the House of Law and Territory.

Isabel felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cave's dampness. This small hunting trail, this secret wood, was not truly wild. It was claimed. The Houses truly owned everything. She quickly pulled the moss over the symbol, leaving the space as she found it.

She didn’t hesitate again, threading the needle through the root maze faster this time, emerging onto the dark forest floor.

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Isabel shifted back to her human form near the meeting point, the cobalt scales receding back beneath her skin, leaving only faint blue patterns on her neck.

"It took you too long," Holst said the moment she stepped out of the vines. "We were about to go in."

Isabel threw the pouch at him. "The roots were clever. Here's your Glow Moss. Let's go."

The healer was waiting for them. Jon handed him the pouch. The old man smiled, his eyes gleaming when he saw the glowing substance.

"Well done, child," he said to Isabel. He then handed Jon a detailed, folded map. "This map shows the path. Stay low until you cross the river, and avoid the north gorge; that's where the Tarrith surveyors sometimes camp."

"Tarrith surveyors?" Jon asked, his voice low.

"Aye. They map the land to ensure the boundaries are respected. Now go. You have a long ride to Hilston Market."

They thanked the old man and returned to their horses, taking the Whisper Trail. Isabel didn't mention the chimera sigil she had seen in the cave. It was a secret she kept close, a small, chilling reminder that their journey was not just through the Outlands, but through the territory of the Houses.

"Well, that was a success," Mercy said cheerfully. "Another mission done! The Shattered Fang is unstoppable!"

"We didn't actually fight anyone," Holst pointed out.

"Exactly!" Jon threw his arm around Holst's shoulder. "A successful mission is one where you don't fight. Now let's ride! I hear Hilston Market has real bakeries, not just stale bread!"

They laughed, urging their horses forward, leaving the woods and the dangerous secrets of the Tarrith House behind them. For now.

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Author's note: hey guys I'm sorry for uploading another really short chapter, I came down with sickness and I really just wanted to hit 10,000 words. expect more exciting adventures from the shattered fang 🫶🤗 ilysm