Shadow Slave: Malediction of Sanguine Yearning

The frigid air bit at Aria's cheeks as she trudged along the top of the fortress wall. The snow-covered expanse stretched endlessly before her, and the stars above seemed like a million tiny pinpricks in the deep black sky. Her breath misted in the cold as her thoughts wandered. How would she survive? How would this nightmare end? And most pressing of all—how long before the monsters finally appeared?

She was so lost in her spiraling thoughts that she didn't notice the crunch of boots behind her. A heavy arm suddenly wrapped around her shoulders, startling her.

"What are you thinking so deeply about, princess?" Blake's voice carried the usual cocky tone, a grin audible even before she turned to glare at him.

"Nothing much," Aria replied dryly, shrugging his arm off. "Just planning how I'm going to smash your face in tomorrow."

Blake laughed. "Big words for someone who fights like a blindfolded toddler. Better luck next time, princess."

Before she could retort, another voice chimed in. "Lay off her, Blake. She's improving." Garran appeared from a nearby watchtower, his halberd resting on one shoulder. The older man's calm tone was like a balm to the frayed nerves Aria hadn't realized she was carrying. "At least she's not all talk, unlike some people."

"Who, me?" Blake feigned offense, placing a hand on his chest. "I'll have you know I'm a man of action."

"More like a man of excuses," Tarin muttered as he joined them, silent as always. His bow was slung over one shoulder, and his sharp eyes scanned the snowy horizon with unbroken focus. "Speaking of which, maybe keep your eyes on the wall, Blake. Just in case someone tries to sneak in."

Blake raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. You're right, as always, oh great oracle."

Reese's booming laugh echoed from below as the big man ascended the steps. "Are we having a group meeting without me?" he asked, hefting his warhammer onto his shoulder with one hand while cradling a steaming bowl in the other. "And Blake's not in trouble yet? Must be my lucky night."

"Trouble has a way of finding me, what can I say?" Blake shot back.

Aria smirked despite herself. It was impossible to stay tense with Reese around. The big man's presence filled the space like a roaring hearth on a cold night.

"Eat this before you all freeze to death," Lyra said, appearing behind Reese. She handed Aria a piece of bread and a small cup of something steaming. Lyra's calm demeanor always seemed out of place among the group's louder personalities, but Aria appreciated it. She felt a strange sense of safety whenever the medic was near.

"Thanks," Aria muttered, taking the food. "Any word from the scouts?"

Lyra shook her head. "Tarin's already done two sweeps. Nothing unusual."

"Doesn't mean we're safe," Garran said, his voice low and serious. "The quiet before a storm always feels like this."

The group fell silent at that, each of them lost in their thoughts.

-------

Two weeks had passed since Aria first entered the nightmare. The days stretched on uneventfully, the fortress standing unscathed, untouched by even a whisper of danger. Not a single monster had appeared—not even a fleeting shadow against the endless expanse of snow.

In that time, Blake had introduced her to his small team. They trained together, shared meals, and exchanged banter that made the fortress walls feel a little less cold. It had taken only a few days for Aria to feel at home among them. It was strange—nightmares were supposed to be grueling, relentless trials designed to break you. But so far, there was nothing. Just peace.

Yet, that eerie calm unnerved her far more than any battle ever could. The silence felt heavy, foreboding. She knew it wouldn't last. The storm was coming—it was only a matter of when.

Until then, all she could do was prepare. And prepare she did.

Every day, she sparred with Blake. It hadn't taken long for her to face a painful truth: she was terrible with a sword. Despite her raw strength, her technique was laughable, and even Blake, with his constant teasing, struggled to keep a straight face during their sessions. After too many fumbled strikes and failed parries, Aria abandoned the sword entirely. Spears and halberds weren't any better. Instead of wallowing in frustration, she turned to what she did best: brute strength and resilience.

Now, she fought with a sturdy iron shield and her fists—tools she could wield with confidence. Using what little money she had, she scraped together an assortment of gear: an iron shield, a single iron shoulder guard, and leather arm braces. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.

As the days passed, Aria began to understand the fortress's unspoken hierarchy. The castle's defenses were divided into three layers: the outer wall guards—like herself—were scrappy, under-equipped, and relied on sheer determination; the knights and wealthy citizens formed the middle ranks, better armed and trained; and finally, the royalty and their elite guards, who stood as the last and best-protected line of defense.

"Fancy knights, regular knights, and us barbarians," Aria thought with a dry smile.

The label wasn't entirely accurate, but it stuck. The outer guards weren't savages or brutes—far from it. Yet, clad in heavy leather and fur pelts, armed with whatever they could afford, they certainly looked the part. In this snow-covered world, where wealth determined the quality of your gear, practicality and warmth mattered far more than polished steel or tailored finery.

-------

The blare of a war horn shattered the stillness, snapping Aria out of her daydream. Her heart jolted as the sound echoed across the fortress walls. She knew exactly what it meant. Finally. The monsters had arrived—or at least something had.

"Frost Howlers!" Tarin's sharp voice rang out from his post. His bow was already in hand as he squinted at the horizon. "A whole pack of them—no, more like a damn army."

"Afraid of a few overgrown pups, Tarin?" Blake quipped, flashing his usual cocky grin.

A booming laugh broke through the tension. "Weren't you the one begging for my help last time, Blake?" Reese shot back, hefting his massive warhammer onto his shoulder.

"And weren't you crying to Lyra after that fight, big guy?" Blake countered, his smirk widening.

"Enough!" Garran's voice cut through the banter like a blade, firm and commanding. "Focus. They're almost here."

Aria's gaze snapped to the horizon. Her breath caught as the creatures came into view—hundreds of them, their pale forms blurring against the snowy tundra. Frost Howlers. Massive, wolf-like beasts with fur as white as the snow they moved through, their blackened fangs glinting like obsidian. Each one had a jagged, ice-like horn jutting from its skull, a cruel spear of frozen death.

Aria's gaze sharpened as she descended the wall, shield in hand, preparing to meet the oncoming horde. Tarin and Lyra remained behind, their skills more valuable within the safety of the walls—Tarin's arrows and Lyra's healing would make the difference from afar.

The growing roar of the Frost Howlers chilled her resolve. Even with the adrenaline pumping through her veins, the sight of hundreds of monstrous shapes advancing through the snow was enough to make her stomach twist. She tightened her grip on her shield.

Garran's steady hand landed on her shoulder, grounding her spiraling thoughts. "Beth," he said, his voice calm but firm. "You take the front. I'll cover your right, Reese and Blake have your left." He glanced pointedly at Blake. "And Blake, I'm warning you—don't get carried away. Stay in formation."

Blake gave a gruff chuckle. "Yeah, yeah, old man. I got it."

That was the extent of their strategy. The guards numbered about three hundred, lined up to face the tide of beasts. Strategy wasn't exactly a luxury they had. Most of the formation was loose—every guard for themselves once the chaos started.

Aria's eyes flicked toward the higher-ranking officers spaced along the line, each barking orders to their respective groups. One of them, she noticed with a scowl, was the man who had doused her with freezing water on her first day. She didn't like him—or any of them for that matter. Garran had already warned her that their commands would likely crumble as soon as the Frost Howlers hit the line.

The air grew colder as the Frost Howlers closed the distance, their snarls rumbling like an approaching avalanche. Aria's breath came in short, visible puffs as she took her place in the front line, her shield firmly planted before her. Around her, the guards shifted uneasily, the tension thick enough to cut.

"Hold!" An officer's voice rang out, steady and commanding despite the storm of fear sweeping through the ranks. "Wait for them to come to us!"

Aria's knuckles whitened against the rim of her shield as the Frost Howlers broke into a sprint, their massive forms barreling across the frozen tundra. Snow kicked up behind them, shimmering in the weak daylight. Their black teeth gleamed like obsidian, and their icy horns glinted menacingly. The ground trembled under the weight of their charge.

"Brace!" Garran roared.

The first wave slammed into their line with terrifying force. Aria braced herself as a Frost Howler collided with her shield, its claws screeching against the iron with a jarring, teeth-grinding sound. She staggered back a step but planted her feet, shoving forward with a furious yell. The creature stumbled, off-balance, and she seized the moment, driving her shield upward into its jaw with a resounding clang. The beast let out a strangled yelp, and she brought her fist down hard on its skull, the crack of bone echoing in her ears.

A familiar voice rang in her head,

[you have slain a dormant beast, Wendralith's thrall]

A faint smile touched her lips—she had done it. She had slain her first nightmare creature, a Dormant Beast. But there was no time to revel in the small victory.

Before she could catch her breath, another Howler leaped at her from the side. She twisted just in time, raising her shield to deflect its snapping jaws. Its horn scraped against the edge of the shield, sending sparks flying as its weight bore down on her. With a guttural shout, Aria shifted her stance and drove her shoulder forward, forcing the beast off balance. The Howler crashed to the ground with a guttural snarl, thrashing as it tried to recover. Wasting no time, she planted her boot firmly on its chest, pinning it down. In a single, fluid motion, Aria brought her shield down with brutal force, the impact shattering its ribcage with a bone-crunching crack.

[You have slain a dormant..]

There was no time to listen to the Spell. All around her, the line trembled under the relentless assault. Garran's halberd swept through the air, felling two Howlers in a single arc. "Hold the line!" he bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos. To Aria's left, Reese swung his warhammer with wild abandon, sending one Frost Howler sprawling into another. Despite his massive strength, the sheer number of enemies forced him into a more defensive stance.

Aria caught sight of Blake, darting between the snapping jaws of two Howlers. His sword flashed in tight, efficient movements, severing tendons and piercing throats. "Keep up, Beth!" he called over his shoulder, grinning even as blood spattered across his face.

Her muscles screamed in protest, but there was no time to rest. Another Howler barreled toward her, its icy horn aimed directly at her chest. She ducked low, letting it sail over her, and drove her shield upward into its exposed belly. It yelped and twisted, but she pressed her advantage, slamming her shield into its side again and again until it collapsed into the snow.

The second wave hit before the first had fully retreated, and Aria's heart sank. There were so many of them. They poured over the snow like a living tide, their glowing blue eyes cutting through the gloom. A massive Howler, its fur bristling with shards of ice, charged straight at Garran. He spun his halberd into position, catching the beast mid-leap and driving its horn into the ground with a sickening thud.

"Beth, on your left!" Garran's warning came just in time. She pivoted, raising her shield to catch another leaping Howler. The force of the impact rattled her teeth, and she barely held her ground. Reese's warhammer came down beside her, pulverizing the beast's head before it could recover.

"Thanks," she gasped.

"Don't mention it!" he boomed, grinning despite the blood dripping from a gash on his arm.

As the battle raged on, Aria's movements became slower, more deliberate. Each strike, each block, felt heavier than the last. Frost Howlers continued to throw themselves at the line, their claws ripping through leather and fur, their fangs sinking into exposed flesh. Aria saw guards fall—some dragged into the snow by multiple Howlers, others crushed under sheer weight. For every beast they killed, it felt like two more took its place.

Above the fray, Tarin's arrows rained down with deadly precision, each shot finding its mark. The beasts circling to flank the guards dropped like stones, buying precious seconds for the embattled defenders. On the wall, Lyra worked tirelessly, her hands darting between the wounded, staunching bleeding and muttering calming reassurances.

Aria slammed her shield into another Howler, sending it sprawling, only to feel a searing pain as claws raked across her unguarded leg. She bit back a scream, spinning and driving her fist into the creature's horned head. It collapsed, twitching, but she knew she couldn't keep this up much longer.

"Hold on!" Garran's voice rang out. He was bleeding from multiple wounds, his breath labored, but his halberd moved with relentless precision, cutting down anything that came too close.

"Beth, duck!" Blake's voice snapped her out of her daze. She dropped just in time for his sword to sweep over her head, decapitating a Howler that had been lunging for her back.

"I had it!" she shot back, trying to ignore the tremble in her arms.

"Sure you did," Blake quipped, already turning to face another attacker.

The tide of Frost Howlers finally began to thin as the surviving beasts realized their assault was failing. The remaining creatures let out mournful, ear-piercing howls before retreating into the snow, their forms disappearing into the white haze.

Aria dropped her shield, her arms trembling and her breath coming in ragged gasps. Around her, the battlefield was a grim tableau of death. The snow was stained red, bodies of guards and Frost Howlers alike littering the ground.

Reese trudged over to her, his warhammer resting on his shoulder. "Still alive, huh?"

"Somehow," Aria murmured, looking around. The once-strong force of 300 guards was now reduced to fewer than half. The survivors were battered, bloodied, and silent, their faces pale with exhaustion and grief.

Garran limped over, his halberd dragging behind him. "We held the line," he said, his voice low and heavy. "That's all that matters."

Aria nodded, though her chest felt tight. The battle was won, but the cost was staggering. And unfortunately, she knew this was just the beginning. The storm had come—and it would come again.