"Get back here!" A voice called through the mist.
One of the many that took part in this night's chase, their voices carrying through the trees. On a misty, moonless night and a thick canopy that veiled even the harshest of daylight, the swamp was especially dark tonight. A hunt was risky, but the townspeople were out for blood.
Draven weaved through the trees, swift-footed, at twice the pace of the mob. His intention was separate from theirs. He would find this beast before the crowd, slit its throat and collect the bounty it collected.
A patchwork consequence of the Darkwood King, traitorous and violent. This was a man; his soul forcibly melded with a DarkSpirit of the underworld.
One with a malevolent thirst.
Draven continued, his footstep treading mistakenly in a puddle, the loudest sound he'd made in miles. His gut twisted in frustration. A mistake, one he knew he may pay the price for, but he continued on, slipping through the brush with ease.
Then, a loud clank and a yelp broke through the silent forest, no more than a few meters away.
A grin stretched across his face.
The kill was his for the taking.
Draven moved faster, running with everything he had, the darkness brighter than ever as the beast's magic thrust him forward. It wanted him to have the kill. The winged devil that inhabited his body — a predator that enjoys the thrill of the hunt even more than Draven himself.
Faster now, the beast commanded, his tone wreaking excitement. We've got him!
With eyes that pierced through the dark, and talons so sharp they sink into the flesh of their prey with nothing more than a simple movement. This beast — this silent killer of the midnight hour.
The Owl DarkSpirit.
Less than two yards away, Draven found him. But when his gaze fell upon his prey, what he saw before him was not a crazed Devil.
It was a boy.
A young man, really, but barely in his twenties. He sobbed, wiping tears from his face in terror, pulling at the prongs of the bear trap. His thin calf was soaked in blood, as were his hands.
Draven knew instantly that his beast had abandoned him.
From working in the King's army for some time, Draven knew that there were two kinds of spirits that chose to inhabit a human body. Many of them simply wanted to kill. To once more feel the thrill and indulgence of the hunt. That was the case for Draven's Owl spirit. More often than not, these beings just existed as an attachment, savoring the sensation of the pleasures of the living, without attempting to take over their host's body.
But then there were the others.
Ones who sought a more sinister agenda.
If a DarkSpirit's energy was more powerful than the host's, the host would die instantly. But some spirits chose a strong body with a weak mind. One that they could easily take over at a moment's notice.
Then, Draven felt a weight press down on his wide-set shoulder. The sensation was heavy and frigid, like a cold mist had congregated around him, settling on one half of his body.
Get on with it, Draven, his monster hissed.
"Calm yourself," he shot back with a scowl. "It's just a child. It's not even fun anymore."
The boy's face went pale at Draven's deep-toned whisper in the wind. He looked up, and around but he would not see Draven hidden in the darkness. The boy shuddered and continued pulling at the metal jaws.
Draven watched the boy, pathetically pulling for his life, wondering if he should put this child out of his misery.
"Oy! I heard something!" A voice broke through the silence, closer than he'd expected.
The boy raised his head, pushing his blood smeared bangs back from his face, his eyes wide with fear.
Draven's eyes widened slightly. This was no ordinary boy.
This was a son of the Blood Court.
A Prince.
Prince Cirus Valentyne took after his mother, the previous King's favorite concubine. With the same messy reddish blonde hair, full cheeks and rosebud lips, he was almost as pretty as a girl.
Oh, don't tell me you're into pretty boys now, the Owl spat. Get on with it!
Draven rolled his eyes at the comment. The Owl could be a greedy pest but for the most part, he was manageable. Though when it came to killing his own kind — The DarkSpirits — The Owl could be rather persistent.
Though he could not remember the boys' name, Draven remembered his mother was a seventh daughter from the southern kingdom of Garyn. Draven admitted to himself that had been isolated from society for some time but news of a Royal of Korforthe --- The Kingdom of the Darkwood ---traveling within Macon should have gotten around rather fast. Though, he couldn't quite remember how many weeks it had been that he'd lurked in these woods.
His gaze washed over the boy, taking in the scene. His frizzy mess of curls, skin and clothes smeared with dirt and blood. This boy, he knew, was not traveling as a royal at all. Not even from the beginning.
He was being hunted.
The footsteps of the townsfolk were getting closer but scattered around the area. Then, a loud clank rang through the forest. Birds fluttered from the trees, giving away his position.
The prince was free.
"Over there!" A man's voice cried. Fire light reflected off the trees as the pounding of at least fifty men closed in on the boy.
The boy dashed from the scene, as fast as he could. The dogs would have his scent now. Draven knew — whether it was a day from now, or just a few hours —they would find him, and he would meet whatever fate awaited.
But the path he took…
Draven caught sight of it --- that slight iridescence that reflected off the trees. His eyes widened as he realized where they were. Or really, what they'd found.
He moved fast. He had been following that beast for weeks now, stalking him town by town. He thought it was moving southwest for the winter, but now, staring at the wall of magic before him, Draven knew the true reason he had come all this way. To the only being in this world that might actually be able to separate the spirit from his body.
The Witch of the Frogswallow Swamp.
But how did he know where to find her? Even Draven himself, who had been wandering the Frogswallow for weeks, couldn't find the space.
And more than that, would this young prince know how to bypass that magic barrier?