The Animated Heart

The air in the forest was thick with the cloying sweetness of decay, a scent that clung to the back of my throat like spoiled honey. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, sent a fresh jolt of adrenaline through me. Niku walked beside me, his massive frame a comforting, if somewhat terrifying, presence. His gaze constantly swept the dense undergrowth, his hand never far from the crude, sharpened spear he carried. This was his first year as a Soul-Hunter, and the haunted look in his eyes never quite faded. Mine, I suspected, was a mirror of his.

"Think this sanctuary is real, Eli?" Niku's voice rumbled, low and strained.

I grunted, swatting away a buzzing insect that seemed unnaturally large, its chitinous wings a dull, metallic sheen. "It has to be. We can't keep running forever. And we can't keep fighting like this, not without proper training. Not with… these." I flexed my gloved hands, the smooth, dark material a stark contrast to the rough, torn fabric of my tunic. They felt like a part of me now, an extension of my will, yet the raw power they contained still made my stomach clench.