A terrifying mix of paralysis and a desperate urge to survive seized him. One part of him screamed to drop the dagger and hide under the hay. The other, sharper part, forced him to grip the hilt tighter.
"I have to do it." He thought of the charred ruins of his home. I survived the fire. I cannot die here, now. I cannot let this thing win.
He focused entirely on Balvan’s back—the only shield and source of hope he had. He relied entirely on the warrior’s quiet confidence.
His fear wasn’t just of death; it was the terror of a complete loss of control, realizing his life now depended on a split-second act of violence he was utterly unprepared for, performed in the pitch-dark shadows cast by the ominous Eclipsed Moon.
He held the dagger, his hand trembling so violently that the tiny blade rattled softly against his thumb.
The deep, low growling outside abruptly stopped, replaced by a momentary, heavy stillness.
Balvan tensed, recognizing the sound of a beast preparing to charge.
The canvas flap was ripped aside with a vicious, tearing sound, and a massive, hulking shape lunged into the small tent.
It was bigger than Austin had imagined, a dark, shaggy blur with wide, red-tinged eyes and long, clawed feet scrabbling for purchase on the hay.
The creature didn’t hesitate; it aimed its massive head and shoulders right at Balvan.
But Balvan was faster. With a fierce shout that was half-warning, half-war cry, he executed his swing. "NOW!" he roared.
The heavy, steel sword sliced through the air and plunged with a sickening thud deep into the beast’s shoulder, just below the neck.
The creature was momentarily stunned, its charge halted as the pain overwhelmed its immediate predatory focus.
That single word, "NOW," shattered Austin’s paralysis. Driven by adrenaline and sheer terror, he scrambled forward on his knees, dagger clutched in a desperate, white-knuckled grip.
The beast was momentarily distracted, roaring in agony from Balvan’s blow, its head flailing wildly.
Seeing his chance, Austin lunged. He didn’t aim for the head, but for the closest, softest part of the creature he could reach: the front part of its bear-like snout, just above its gaping maw.
He jammed the small dagger forward with all his youthful strength. The blade slid past the tough hide and sank deep into the beast’s facial tissue.
The pain from the two unexpected wounds was explosive. The beast let out a sound that was not a growl or a roar, but a piercing, high-pitched shriek of unimaginable pain and fury.
The sound was earsplitting, tearing through the quiet camp and instantly shattering the night’s silence.
The beast thrashed violently, its large body slamming against the tent poles. Balvan, holding fast to his embedded sword, was thrown against the canvas wall.
The entire camp was instantly alert. Shouts of alarm erupted outside.
"To the edge! Eclipse Beast!"
"Swords out! Form a perimeter!"
The flaps of the surrounding tents flew open.
Light poured in as the commotion started, illuminating the horrific scene: Balvan struggling to pull his sword from the flailing creature, and Austin scrambling backward, dropping the dagger, the warmth of the beast’s blood sticky on his hand.
The fight had begun. The Ironwood Clan was under attack.
The beast was a maelstrom of violent, thrashing fury. Its enormous body shuddered as it tried to yank free from the embedded blade.
Balvan braced himself, hauling backward, but the sword was irrevocably stuck, sunk deep into the beast’s muscle and bone.
"Damn it!" Balvan roared, letting go of the hilt. He quickly pivoted, his eyes locking onto the small, bloody dagger Austin had dropped near the hay.
He lunged, scooping it up, his weapon now pitifully short for the fight.
He then saw Austin. The boy was utterly petrified, frozen in a crouch, staring wide-eyed at the convulsing beast.
The creature’s movements were erratic, dictated by the crippling pain of the sword stuck in its shoulder.
It stumbled sideways, its head shaking violently, splattering blood across the tent walls.
Balvan, watching the sheer tenacity of the beast—how it refused to fall despite a heavy sword blow—felt a wave of dread.
He knew most common eclipse beasts would have been felled by such a strike. But this creature was still fighting.
His eyes tracked the beast’s chest, which was heaving with exertion. There, beneath the dark, shaggy hide, he spotted a faint, unnatural glow.
A dark patch of muscle, the size of a fist, was pulsating rhythmically with a sickly, purplish light.
"Shit! A Shadowheart!" Balvan cursed, the term laden with urgency and fear.
He realized this was not the small fry they were used to battling.
This was an eclipse beast that they were ordered to run from the moment they encounter.
The warriors of the clan rarely had an aura weilder among them. They depended on thier fighting skills and tactics and innthe strength of group.
Alone, even a scourge could pull their hearts out of their chests.
But a shadowheart, it was almost impossible to even last a minute in front of it alone.
He needed to create distance, needed a proper weapon. He spun and rushed toward Austin, grabbing the boy’s shoulder.
"Move, Austin! We have to get out! Now!" he urged, shaking him hard.
Austin remained frozen, staring straight ahead, his eyes wide and vacant. His body was a statue of pure fear.
Not a single sound falling on his ears was being heard, fear had taken over his senses.
He knew he had to run, but his legs were not listening, they refused to move.
"Austin, move! I said move!" Balvan screamed, the sound echoing the beast’s own shriek.
The sheer volume and force of Balvan’s voice finally pierced the wall of the boy’s terror.
Austin blinked, his eyes slowly regaining focus. He registered the danger, the urgency in Balvan’s face. Hesitantly, stiffly, he forced his legs to obey.
He scrambled to his feet.
"Run! Get out of here!" Balvan yelled, giving him a hard shove toward the tent flap.
Austin, heart hammering, didn’t look back. He bolted out of the tent, Balvan right behind him, just as the Shadowheart beast finally managed to tear itself free of the tent pole and let out another furious, deafening roar.