Prince Lucien’s choice

Lucien barely registered the moment the palisade was breached. One instant he was crouched behind the wall on top of the palisade, passing another bundle of arrows down the line. The next the world erupted in splintering wood and flying dirt as something enormous smashed through the outer barricade like it was made of twigs.

The Behemoth burst through the wall in a storm of shattered timber.

Lucien staggered backward as the creature’s bulk slammed into the yard. Six massive limbs gouged trenches through the packed earth. Broken planks spun through the air like thrown spears. One struck the rampart hard enough to rattle the entire structure beneath his feet.

He peered over the edge to survey the outpost. Horses thrashed in their pens with no sound, eyes rolling white as they tried to tear themselves free from their tethers. Outpost guards tried shouting orders. Men ran in every direction, some raising spears, others simply trying to get clear of the monster that had just appeared in the center of their defenses.

Relief spread though him when he saw Callum, his men hadn’t panicked, they moved once again, signally messages to one another. As they retreated back.

The Behemoth moved again.

Its front limbs smashed down through the nearest barricade. The impact hurled two guards across the yard like broken dolls.

Lucien saw a guard’s mouth open wide in a scream that never arrived.

Another man lunged forward with a spear, driving the blade toward the creature’s flank. The weapon struck something hard beneath the Behemoth’s hide and snapped in half. The guard stared at the splintered shaft in disbelief for a fraction of a second before a Hopper vaulted over the shattered wall behind him.

The demon landed on his shoulders. Its jaws closed on the man’s neck.

More Hoppers spilled through the gap in the wall.

They came low and fast, their limbs unfolding in jerking bursts of motion as they spread through the yard. One bounded up onto the rampart itself, claws scraping along the timber as it dragged itself over the edge.

Lucien jerked backward, pulled his sword out and sliced at its legs, knocking the creature back down into the chaos below.

Lucien tried to find direction. But there were too many. Everywhere he looked men were fighting something. The entire yard had been overrun in moments.

The Behemoth drove forward again, its massive body plowing through the half-built defensive line the guards had tried to form around it. Spears splintered. Shields crumpled under the weight of its limbs. One guard vanished beneath its bulk entirely as the monster surged deeper into the outpost.

Archers on the wall were loosing arrows blindly into the mass of movement below. Guards were abandoning the gate to try to drag the wounded clear of the creature’s path. Hoppers leapt between bodies, tearing into anything that moved.

There had to be a way out. The forest was swarming with Abyssal Hoppers, though half of them were melting before even reaching the Palisade.

Lucien turned from the parapet and began running.

He barely remembered climbing down from the wall. One moment he was staring into the chaos below, the next he was pushing through the yard, weaving past fighting men and stumbling bodies as he searched for some path that did not end beneath the Behemoth’s feet.

Lucien found himself standing before a narrow opening cut into the mountain.

the dungeon entrance.

Blackness waited beyond it.

Behind him the outpost tore itself apart in silence.

Lucien stared into the dark.

The dungeon swallowed him, before he even realized he had entered. Cold, stale air brushed Lucien’s face as he stumbled down the pitch black passage. It smelled like wet stone and old metal. As he moved deeper the walls started glimmering faintly with mineral light, just enough to know he hadn’t gone blind, but not enough to see the floor.

As Lucien continued down the path, anxiety started to nip at his heels, ‘what if I was the only one left alive? Would I need to turn back to the castle?’

Lucien was touching the wall for a opening from the dead end when he saw a light coming closer. He quickly pulled his sword out, but he knew he couldn’t make much use of it without he still held a spell cast but without it he would truly be vulnerable.

He held the sword in a thrusting stance, and waited as the light moved closer.

He noticed the torch light, it was being held by a man he didn’t recognize but wore the outpost uniform. Rowena moved in from behind him,

Rowena stumbled, catching herself against the wall. “Move,” she mouthed. he saw the fear in her eyes.

He followed her back, the torch creating shadows along the wall and worst, it shown multiple openings he had walk past without noticing, if the dungeon weren’t starved he probably would have been ambushed and killed.

Silence stalked them the entire way. Even in the dungeon, the Hoppers’ aura swallowed every sound. Their boots struck stone, and Lucien felt the impact in his bones but heard nothing. Torches flared and sputtered without crackle. The world became a moving picture of fear.

The ceiling widened above them, revealing a vast cavern threaded with sloping paths and branching tunnels. In there were the rest of his knights and even the iron fangs where there. Around eight outpost guards were had followed, including Merrow the captain of the outpost, who had unfurled a map.

With shaking hands his finger traced a line that cut through chambers marked with symbols. Indicating dead ends, cave ins, and mineral spots. Then he jabbed at the far edge of the map, an unknow zone.

Lucien nodded. He pushed forward at Callum’s side. Ingrid and Doran guarded the rear, Matthias watching every shadow for the flicker of Hopper eyes. Fenric moved with his hands half-raised, ready to cast, eyes darting as if the dungeon itself might bite.

They walked for what felt like hours. Until their footsteps could be heard again.

Then the tunnel opened into a wide chamber. The air shifted. Lucien felt something different here. A pressure that was not silence. Waiting. The chamber did not feel abandoned. It felt watched. It felt prepared.

The others slowed instinctively, breath held, bodies going still. Their footsteps softened until they barely stirred dust.

The knights tightened their formation. The Iron Fangs widened into a ring, placing themselves between Lucien and the cavern walls. Step by careful step, they moved deeper into the chamber.

A faint screech echoed through the darkness ahead, thin and sharp, bouncing across stone. Lucien did not know whether the sound was real or a memory his mind supplied, desperate to fill the emptiness. The dungeon made you doubt yourself. It made you question whether your senses were working or merely pretending.

A large boulder was in the center and above it, orbs emitting dim light hung from the ceiling, Lucien turned to Rowena, to ask her what it was, when Aldric hand covered Lucien’s mouth.

The Aldric leaned close to Lucien’s ear and whispered, voice barely a breath. “Flashstalker, they hunt movement, if they see us, we’ll die.”

Lucien had heard of creatures using light lures to attracted their prey before, though he couldn’t think of what could actually be dangerous to a group of knights. It became clear when they moved past the boulder.

Sleek feline forms lay across the floors, clung to walls and hung from the ceiling, tentacles sprouted from their backs, with the orbs of light attached to the ends.

Lucien’s breath stopped. the beasts were large most seemed to be three meters long though he estimated a few were as much as four meters.  It had eight limbs, four longs one’s meant for walking, and four smaller one’s in its mid section with claws on the end looking in a birds feet.

They stopped for a moment wondering how to proceed. When a large roar was heard behind them. Their faces paled, it was the Behemoth they hadn’t been able to hear it before but its roar sounded like death.

The beast stirred their black eyes glowed in the dark as they opened.

Lucien didn’t hesitate this time he would sacrifice as needed to ensure his survival. He pulled at the Oath his knights had made to him, and used his final spell to give them all an order they could not disobey. ‘Freeze!’

He felt his knights lock up like statues around him. Not even their eyes reacting to being frozen.

Then Lucien drew in the biggest breath he could and screamed with every ounce of force he possessed. “RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!”

The combination of fear from the roar combine with the order caused all the guards to try to run past the waking beast.

Light erupted across the cavern in blinding white bursts. Shadows snapped like tearing cloth. Their bodies were thin and fast, too fast for something that lived in stone. They pounced toward motion. Toward the running men.

The moment the outpost guards broke into a sprint, the beast struck. Claws tore into armor. Teeth flashed. Bodies crumpled. The cavern filled with bursts of white, each flash revealing a new horror, then hiding it again.

One of the outpost defenders, tried to twist aside. it hit him mid-step. Lucien saw the claws sink under the seam of his breastplate, saw the jerk of his body as if yanked by strings, saw his mouth open. No scream. The creature pulled, and the man’s body folded wrong, spine bending in a way that made Lucien’s stomach heave.

Screams of terror and pain started all around them. Lucien swallowed. Behind them, at the chamber’s mouth, was the Behemoth, seen between flashes, it was bleeding profusely, its middle left arm was hanging limply from its side, one of its eyes was closed with an arrow sticking out of it, he recognized it as one of Matthias.

The Iron fangs surged forward to defend the guards, but his knights held by the Oath remained still.

Lucien could only keep track of the fighting between the flashes from the orbs of the beasts.

Lucien waited for all the beast to have moved past them. Fighting the guards and now the Behemoth as well. The battle became a free for all, as the three factions met at the mouth of the cave.

Then all sound died again. Not a gradual dimming. Not a soft fading. A snapped thread.

The Hoppers had arrived.

The Hoppers crept forward at the chamber’s mouth. Their legs coiled. Their claws flexed.

A Hopper leapt.

It landed on guards chest, driving him to the ground. His mouth opened wide. No sound came. The creature’s teeth sank into his throat with a precise puncture, Blood spilled. Silently. his’s hands clawed at the Hopper’s head. He looked straight at Lucien. Accusing. Begging.

Lucien released them from the Oath and the  group continued forward. Slow. Slow. Balanced. Measured. Moving only in the time between the flashes, while the beast couldn’t see them. Lucien’s muscles burned with restraint. Every instinct screamed to sprint, to put distance between himself and the Behemoth.

They were three quarters of the way across the cavern when a body landed at Lucien’s feet. It was Kipp, only his upper half with half his skull caved in.

Lucien looked back to see the Abyssal Hoppers surged in response, drawn by panic and motion. For the first time, two unnatural predators collided.

Flashstalkers blinded them with bursts of light. Hoppers lunged with silent fury. Limbs snapped. Black blood sprayed. White flashes strobed across the chamber like lightning trapped underground.

Lucien looked back just in time to see the Abyssal Hoppers surge forward, drawn by panic and motion. For the first time, two unnatural predators collided.

Flashstalkers struck first.

Light erupted.

Not a steady glow, not fire, but violent bursts, sharp and blinding, each flash freezing the world into fragments. In those instants of white, Lucien saw everything too clearly. Claws mid-swing. Teeth bared. Bodies twisting through the air.

Then darkness swallowed it again.

In the brief moments of light he saw Ingrid and Doran moving towards them.

A Flashstalker dropped from the ceiling, its tentacles snapping forward. One of the glowing orbs got struck by a Hopper mid-leap. The burst of light exploded. The Flashstalker convulsed in the air, limbs locking for a fraction of a second.

That was all it took. The Hoppers piled on top.

Another flash.

‘Pick him up’ Lucien mouthed to Fenric. Who didn’t hesitate and cafefully lifted Kipp’s body, or what remained of him at least.

The Flashstalker’s claws tore through a Hoppers midsection, splitting chitin with a wet, silent rupture.

A Hopper clung to the cavern wall, unmoving, waiting. The moment a Flashstalker’s light dimmed, it launched. Its body blurred across the distance, jaws locking onto one of the tentacles. The orb flickered wildly as the creature thrashed, dragging the Flashstalker down from the ceiling.

They hit the ground together.

Limbs tangled. Claws punched through flesh. The orb burst in a final flare, illuminating the Hopper’s head as it crushed inward under the Flashstalker’s bite.

Then darkness again.

More Hoppers poured in from the entrance, low to the ground, spreading wide, surrounding anything that moved. They did not hesitate. Did not react to the flashes beyond what was necessary. They adapted. Some closed their eyes entirely, moving by instinct, by motion, by something deeper than sight.

Flashstalkers responded.

The cavern became a storm of light and shadow.

One leapt across the boulder, tentacles lashing outward in all directions. Multiple orbs ignited at once. The overlapping flashes turned the cavern white for a full second.

Lucien saw a Hopper mid-stride, its limbs already severed, body still trying to move without them.

He saw another pinned to the wall, a Flashstalker’s claws embedded deep in its skull.

He saw a third already behind it.

The light vanished.

Something large moved.

The Behemoth did not rush. It did not react to the chaos around it. It advanced.

A Flashstalker turned toward it, orbs flaring in rapid succession. Light hammered against the Behemoth’s hide. The creature did not flinch. Its massive limb came down.

The Flashstalker disappeared beneath it.

The impact cracked stone.

Another leapt onto the Behemoth’s back, claws scraping against its hide, searching for purchase. Another followed. Then another. They swarmed it, small compared to its size but relentless.

The Behemoth reared.

Its body twisted with slow, crushing force. Even with one limb limp, one was dragged under its bulk and smeared across the stone. Another was flung off, its body breaking against the cavern wall.

Still, they continue moving forward, almost there, they were almost to the opening at the end of the cavern.

Abyssal Hoppers circled it now, no longer engaging directly.

Flashstalker’s lights flared in staggered bursts, forcing the Hoppers into constant motion, disrupting their strikes, turning the battlefield into chaos even for them.

The Behemoth pushed forward through it all.

It did not distinguish between them. As both Flashstalker and Hoppers alike splashed against the walls.

Another step. Stone shattered beneath its weight.

A Flashstalker lunged for its blind spot from the missing eye. A Hopper reached it first. The creature hit the ground, skidding, its light flickering erratically. The two tore into each other in a frenzy of claws and teeth before another flash consumed them both.

Everywhere Lucien looked, the same pattern repeated.

Flash. Movement. Death.

Flash. Movement. Death.

And in the center of it all, the Behemoth kept advancing, unstoppable, uncaring, crushing anything that failed to move fast enough.

The survivors plunged deeper into the dark.

The last stretch of the dungeon felt endless. Lucien moved through narrow corridors that pressed close enough to scrape armor, with only the captain’s shaking hand and the dim glow of Rowena’s wand to guide them. Every footstep echoed like a heartbeat in the deep.

Hours passed. Lucien counted each step, each breath. As he tried and failed to not count the dead. The weight of what he had done clung to him heavier than exhaustion. He could still see the guards’s accusing eyes. Jerimiah kept carrying Kipp’s lifeless body.

Finally, a thin line of daylight appeared ahead, filtering through cracks in a slanted stone wall. The passage widened. Cold wind washed over their faces like a benediction. They had reached the exit.

The survivors emerged into open air, stumbling onto a ledge overlooking a stretch of forested mountain. The sky above was gray, heavy with leftover storm clouds, but it felt impossibly vast after the suffocating dark. Lucien inhaled deeply. It did not help.

Behind him, the others staggered into the open. Callum leaned on his sword. Doran braced a trembling Fenric. Matthias scanned the treetops as if expecting the Hoppers to spill out of the stone after them. Rowena collapsed to her knees, wand still glowing faintly from overuse, shoulders shaking with the effort of not breaking. Ingrid stood near Doran, clutching his gauntlet, eyes too wide for her face.

Fenric lowered Kipp’s body to the ground. For a moment, no one moved. The wind whispered through the trees below. Real sound. Soft. Unbroken.

Lucien’s gaze drifted to what remained of the boy. Smaller now. Lighter. Easier to carry than he should have been.

Doran knelt first. His hands hovered for a moment before settling on Kipp’s shoulder, like he expected warmth to still be there.

“We can’t leave him here,” Doran said, voice thin. No one argued. Doran stepped forward without another word and drove his blade into the earth. It resisted. Stone lay just beneath the surface, shallow and stubborn. The blade scraped, caught, then forced its way in.

Ingrid joined him. She didn’t look at Lucien. Not once. Both of them extended their hands. Blue light gathered, faint at first, then stronger, threading through the soil. The ground trembled as the dirt loosened, lifting in uneven clumps. Stone shifted with a dull grinding resistance, like the mountain itself objected.

Lucien watched. He took a step forward. Stopped. There was nothing he could do that would not be wrong. He let the others work.

Doran lifted Kipp again, more carefully this time, as if the boy might still feel it. He lowered him into the shallow hollow. For a moment, he didn’t let go.

Ingrid reached forward and adjusted Kipp’s cloak, pulling it over what remained of his face. Her hands trembled. She stilled them by force. Then she stood.

“Let’s cover him,” she said. They did. Dirt fell in uneven clumps. Stone followed. The sound was dull. Final.

Lucien watched until there was nothing left to see. Just disturbed earth on a mountainside. Vessir had not emerged. There were fewer of them now. Much fewer.

Jerimiah nodded toward the grave. “Maybe you should say a few words.”

Lucien stepped forward, the words already there. Memorized. Structured. He had been taught this, what to say, how to say it, how to stand, where to look, when to pause. A proper eulogy for fallen men of the crown. He had never given one. Something caught in his throat, not grief, uncertainty. He never got the chance.

Ingrid whirled on him.

“You,” she said. Her voice cracked, raw with fury that had been held too long. “How dare you think to talk.”

Lucien met her stare. Jerimiah intervened “he is the highest ranking official here it is his duty.”

“you killed them!,” Ingrid said. Her hands trembled around the hammer’s haft. “You do not get to speak.”

Doran stepped beside her, his armor revealing no emotion, but his stance was ready for a fight.

Lucien swallowed. His mouth tasted like stone and old blood. “If I had not, none of us would be standing here.” He answered sorrowfully as Jerimiah placed a hand on his blade.

“You do not know that,” Ingrid snapped. “Maybe more of us could have survived if you had not played hero and executioner in the same breath.”

Lucien felt the words like a blow, but he did not step back. He could not. If he stepped back now, he would never stop. “It was the only way to escape alive.”

Ingrid’s eyes narrowed. “You gave that order as if the outpost guards were tools.”

Lucien’s jaw tightened until it hurt. “They were dying either way. The Flashstalkers needed a moving target. The demons needed a distraction. If I had let everyone run, everyone would have died.”

Silence hung for a moment. Not the demon’s silence. A human silence.

Then Ingrid said, voice low and sharp, “You did not ask for volunteers. You chose for them. And you chose who you wanted to survive.”

Jerimiah faced her “They were guards promised to the crown, ordering them to die is within the prince’s power.” Jerimiah said without a hint of guilt.

Ingrid now had tears flowing freely. “Kipp and Vessir weren’t! they were your guard and you left them to die, left us to die!”

Doran’s small voice finally broke through. “Vessir saved us. He bought us time. He died because he moved to protect the rear. He died in that place so you could escape.”

Lucien felt something twist in his chest, sharp and cold. He wanted to say Vessir’s name again, out loud, as if it could fix something. As if naming the dead made it less final.

Callum finally stepped up “he knows,” he said his voice calm and steady. “And he will not forget it.”

“that is what the deposit was for” Jerimiah added

She glared up at Jerimiah, voice steady despite the shaking in her arms. “No amount of coin is worth following someone who uses people like pieces on a board. Vessir is dead. My husband nearly died. Kipp is…” her voiced cracked before she recovered.  “I will not lose any more to your decisions.”

Doran placed a hand on her shoulder. For once, the towering warrior did not speak. The silence in him was heavier than any argument.

Ingrid looked at Callum, then at the outpost captain, then back to Lucien.  She stood tall, as tall as she could manage and with all the authority she could muster “we told you we don’t waste lives, the Iron Fangs withdraw.”

Lucien stared. The words hit harder than he expected. Not because he thought she would forgive him, but because part of him had still believed loyalty was something he could purchase with survival.

“You would leave us now?” Callum said. “We still have mountains to cross. We don’t even know where we are.”

“We will take our own path,” Ingrid said. “We do not follow you any farther.”

“you will lose the deposit” Jerimiah said.

“keep your blood money.” She spat her words final. Doran nodded once.

The pair stepped away, disappearing into the trees without another word, heading down a separate mountain path. Their boots crushed leaves. Their armor clinked softly.

Lucien watched them go until the forest swallowed them whole.

Rowena rose slowly from the ground and placed a hand on Lucien’s arm. Her eyes were tired, but there was no judgment in them. Only understanding, and something that looked dangerously close to pity.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

Jerimiah’s voiced boom “of course he is alright, he knows his duty”

Lucien did not answer.

He looked out across the mountains, cold air stinging his lungs, and tried to name what he felt. The decision he made in that chamber had saved lives. But it had cost him something he knew he could not get back.