[Chr24] A Royal Mission

The forest stretched endlessly, ancient and tangled, its roots jutted from the earth like skeletal fingers, while moss hung in long, draping tendrils from the canopy above. Beams of pale light filtered through the leaves, scattering gold and silver patterns onto the dirt path beneath their feet. The air smelled damp, tinged with the sweetness of blooming Sweei plants clutched in Anubis’s hand.

Aviary skipped a few steps ahead of the group, clutching his journal. His bright eyes darted toward the branches above. "You ever notice how the birds here don’t sound like the ones back home?" he asked, his voice light and curious. "They’ve got this trill, like—" He puffed out his cheeks and whistled an off-key note that echoed faintly in the stillness

Darkk, walking silently at the rear of the group, didn’t respond. His hood shadowed his face, but his eyes flickered toward the distant trees, sharp and searching.

Lyric snorted, his camera slung lazily over his shoulder. "Maybe they’re tired of your whistling, Aviary," he said, his tone teasing but low, as if reluctant to disturb the eerie quiet. Snaps, his gingerbread shoon, slept peacefully on his cloud beside Lyric.

Aviary huffed. "They love me. You wouldn’t get it, Lyric." He glanced toward the canopy again, his expression turning wistful. "It’s just… odd, you know? I’ve never been out here and not seen a single bird. Not one. Not even a shadow."

Anubis, leading the group, glanced over his shoulder. His dark brows furrowed in concern. "He’s right," he admitted. "This place is always full of life—birds, small animals, travelers passing through. Something’s off."

Darkk finally broke his silence, his voice low and measured. "Maybe theyre scared of something."

Aviary shivered, his whistle clinking against the strap of his bag. "Y-yeah, thanks for that, Darkk. Real comforting."

"Enough," Anubis said, his deep voice cutting through the exchange. He walked ahead of the group, his posture firm as he cradled the Sweei plant carefully in his hands. "We’re close. Focus on the task. The spirit water isn’t far."

The group fell into an uneasy silence as they continued. The forest seemed to grow darker the deeper they ventured, the trees taller and their branches more twisted. Darkk finally spoke, his voice low and quiet. "We’re being watched."

"What?" Aviary whispered, his eyes darting to the shadows.

Darkk didn’t elaborate, his gaze fixed on something far ahead. "Keep walking," he murmured, almost to himself.

The unease deepened as they approached the Spirit Tree. It rose from the forest floor like a twisted giant, its roots sprawling in every direction and its bark etched with ancient, glowing runes. The massive trunk stretched impossibly high, its branches clawing at the sky. At its base was the spirit water, a pool that shimmered like liquid glass.

But the grove was empty.

"That’s… strange," Aviary murmured, his voice barely audible. He stepped closer to Anubis. "This place is always busy. Where is everyone?"

Anubis didn’t answer. His eyes swept the grove, his grip tightening on the Sweei plant.
Lyric crouched to frame the Spirit Tree in his viewfinder. "Vacant. Perfect. I might be able to get some good shots this time" He snapped a photo.

"Something’s wrong," Darkk said, his voice low. "We should leave."

"We’re not leaving without the water," Anubis replied, stepping forward.

And then it happened.

The roar echoed through the grove like thunder. The companions froze, their eyes darting toward the source of the sound.

From behind a jagged cluster of trees and boulders, it emerged: a massive Krampus. Its breath came in heavy puffs, steaming in the cold air as it growled. It lowered its skeletal head, seeming to stare them down with a primal intensity.

Aviary whimpered, clutching his journal. "Oh no. Oh, this is bad."

Anubis held out an arm, keeping the others behind him. "Stay calm. Don’t run."

The Krampus snarled again, its mouth snapping shut. Darkk’s eyes flickered between the Krampus and the Spirit Tree. "It’s guarding something."

"Guarding what?" Aviary whispered, his voice barely audible.

Anubis ignored them, stepping forward slowly, the Sweei plant still in his hands, "We’re not here to hurt you," he said, his voice calm but commanding. "We just need the water. Let us pass, and we’ll leave."
The Krampus growled louder, its muscles tensing.

Aviary’s voice wavered. "This isn’t going to work. Anubis, we should—"

"Stay quiet," Anubis ordered.

The Krampus took a step closer, its hooves raking the earth. Its growl deepened as it advanced, its breath visible in the cold air. Its presence gleamed with an intelligence that seemed unnatural, as though it truly understood their presence here.
Anubis stepped forward, keeping his movements slow and deliberate.

"What are you doing?!" Aviary hissed, his voice rising in panic. "Are you out of your mind? You can’t—"

"We don’t have time to argue," Anubis cut him off. His voice was calm. "If we leave now, we’ve failed. I won’t let that happen."

The Krampus snarled again, lowering its head. Its massive shoulders rolled as it prepared to charge.

"Anubis, don’t," Darkk said softly. It wasn’t a plea, but a warning. Darkks eyes, sharp and calculating, didn’t leave the Krampus.

Anubis ignored him, taking another step closer. He held the Sweei plant out in front of him, as though it might act as a barrier.
"We’re here as guardians, not thieves," he said, his voice steady. "We only need the water, nothing more. Let us pass."

For a moment, the Krampus hesitated. Its growl softened, and it shifted its weight, hooves pressing against the earth.

"See?" Lyric murmured, raising his camera to snap another photo. "It’s not going to attack. It’s just bluffing."

"No, it’s not," Darkk muttered under his breath.

Anubis set his jaw, taking one more step forward.

The Krampus's roar exploded through the grove, a deafening sound that made the bucks flinch. It lunged forward, stopping just short of Anubis. Its massive hooves raked the ground, leaving deep gouges in the soil.

Anubis froze, his heart pounding. He could feel the creature’s hot breath on his skin, its wild, sharp scent overwhelming his senses.

"Anubis, STOP!" Aviary cried, his voice breaking. "It’s going to kill you!" For a moment, Anubis didn’t move. His hand tightened around the Sweei plant, his body taut. He let out a slow, measured breath. The Krampus circled him before settling a few feet away from the spirit tree. He knew. Anubis stepped back. His voice was heavy with frustration, but his tone was calm. He turned to the group, his eyes hard. "We’re leaving."

Aviary practically sagged with relief as the group turned around. "Oh, thank god. I thought we were goners."

Behind them, the Krampus watched until the group vanished into the trees. Then, slowly, it turned and lumbered back to the Spirit Tree, its massive form blending into the shadows.