Twilight had settled, casting long shadows through the dense forest as the last embers of daylight clung to the treetops, painting the leaves in hues of gold and deep amber. After hours of traveling through the thick undergrowth, Zephyr and Dianna finally arrived at their destination.
Perched high on the sturdy branches of a colossal tree stood an old wooden house. Its walls, built from dark, weathered timber, bore the marks of time, worn yet unyielding. Moss and creeping vines wove through the cracks, their emerald tendrils blending the structure into its surroundings like a natural camouflage. A rope ladder, swaying gently in the evening breeze, provided the only way up.
Dianna said, "This was once a resting spot for our village hunters. I doubt anyone has used it since Count Geofri took over the village. Can you climb up and tidy it a bit? I'll go hunt for our dinner."
Zephyr groaned but nodded. "Alright, I'll do it."
The journey had left him exhausted. Back on Earth, he had never traveled such a great distance on foot, let alone through an untamed forest. Vines snagged at his clothes, thorns pricked his skin, and unfamiliar insects swarmed around him.
"How the hell do leeches and mosquitoes still exist in this world?" he muttered.
Luckily, Jack's body was far stronger than his original one, and with his Willpower, he had been able to shield himself from most of the pests. Still, the effort drained him, and hunger gnawed at his stomach.
Weary, he climbed the rope ladder, his limbs aching. The front door hung loosely on rusted hinges, creaking with every gust of wind. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of damp wood and decay. Dust coated every surface, and cobwebs draped from the ceiling like ghostly curtains. The floorboards groaned beneath his weight, some cracked or missing entirely, revealing the darkness below.
At least there aren't any snakes or strange creatures in here.
Sitting down, he closed his eyes and began meditating, trying to recover his Willpower and stamina. Without the constant torment of his old headaches, he slipped into deep focus almost instantly. Back on Earth, meditation had never worked for him, no matter how much he practiced.
After resting for a while, he stood up and focused his Willpower. Invisible hands moved through the house, peeling away vines, clearing out moss, sweeping away cobwebs, and scattering layers of dust.
"Amazing ability," he mused. "My life just got a lot easier."
His control over Willpower had improved noticeably from constant use during their journey.
As the last light of day faded, Zephyr gathered dry branches and built a bonfire, waiting for Dianna's return. The flames crackled, casting flickering shadows across the wooden walls.
Time passed.
Zephyr perked up at the sound of someone climbing the ladder. His stomach grumbled. Took her long enough. She must have caught something big.
He opened the door and peered down, ready to help. The darkness made it difficult to see, but he spotted a shadowy figure slowly making its way up. Something felt… off. The movements were jerky, uncoordinated.
A chill crawled down his spine. "Dianna? Are you hurt?"
No response.
The figure kept climbing, each motion unnatural and stiff.
Something is wrong.
Zephyr immediately conjured a small flame. As its glow flickered down the trunk, his breath caught in his throat.
Rotting fingers gripped the rungs, their flesh peeling away in sickly strips, raw and exposed. The grotesque face of decay revealed patches of bare skull, where skin had withered to nothing. One eye socket gaped empty, oozing a thick, dark fluid, while the other held a milky, lifeless stare. Pale, sagging skin stretched tight over brittle bone, splitting in places to expose the dried, blackened sinew beneath.
A moving corpse.
The corpse's every movement sent its decomposing flesh trembling, barely clinging to the bone. With each step, chunks of rotting skin flaked away like brittle parchment.
What the hell kind of world is this?
A spike of panic jolted through him, but he forced himself to act. He hurled the fireball, watching as it streaked down and struck the creature's face. Flames flared up, charring its rotting flesh.
But the zombie didn't stop.
It barely reacted, continuing its slow, methodical climb, the fire consuming its face, but not its resolve.
Shit. I can't let this thing reach the house.
Zephyr focused, using his Willpower to push it back, but even though he felt his invisible force press against the corpse, it didn't budge. The flesh on its arms peeled and tore under the pressure, yet it climbed undeterred.
It's slow, but it won't stop. I need another way.
His gaze darted to the rope ladder. If he couldn't stop it, he could cut it off entirely.
Zephyr reached for the knot securing the ladder to the platform and pulled. The rope slipped free, and with a sickening lurch, the zombie and the ladder plummeted into the darkness below.
Holly molly, hope it doesn't know how to climb trees.
He listened, heart pounding. A distant thud echoed from below, followed by the crunch of snapping bones.
Zephyr stared into the abyss beneath the tree. Silence. Only the wind whistled through the branches. Either the fall had destroyed the creature, or it was simply lying in wait.
His initial fear eased, but worry crept in. Where was Dianna? Had she encountered these things too?
Zephyr could do nothing but wait. Though worry for Dianna gnawed at him, he knew the best course of action was to remain patient.
Time dragged on, each moment stretching unbearably, until it felt like an eternity had passed. Then, at last, a sound reached his ears—a faint, unnatural rustling, like something scraping against the trunk. Then, silence.
Zephyr's muscles tensed. He peered over the edge but saw nothing beyond the inky blackness of the forest floor.
Then suddenly, a hand clamped down on his shoulder.
His heart nearly leaped out of his chest.
Without thinking, he whirled, instinctively summoning a fireball. But before he could release it, his wrist was caught in a firm grip.
"It's me."
Dianna's voice, soft and amused.
Zephyr exhaled sharply, his pulse still racing. "You scared the shit out of me! How do you move so quietly?"
Dianna chuckled, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I didn't see the ladder, so I climbed up the other side of the trunk. Easier that way." She tilted her head. "You look tense. What happened?"
Still catching his breath, Zephyr recounted the encounter with the zombie.
Dianna's expression darkened. "A walking corpse isn't common. It was likely raised by a necromancer. That explains why I couldn't find any animals. They must have fled… or been taken."
She reached into her satchel and handed him a few strange-looking fruits. "I found these instead. Not much, but it'll keep us from starving. I already ate mine on the way back."
Zephyr took one and bit into it. A rush of sweet juice filled his mouth. He devoured the rest quickly, his stomach grateful for anything at this point. "It's good."
As the hunger eased, he turned to Dianna. "Necromancer? Another kind of Beyonder?"
Dianna shook her head. "It's more of a practice than a title. Anyone who studies the art of raising and controlling the dead is called a necromancer. They can be an Awakener, a servant of a god, or even a Gemforged. But necromancy is forbidden, so those who pursue it tend to hide in remote places like this."
Zephyr frowned. "So the zombie was raised and controlled by a necromancer's Willpower?"
"Exactly," Dianna confirmed. "Technically, anyone who can control Willpower could become a necromancer, but it takes years of study and… experimentation with corpses. They're hated anywhere. No one wants to be turned into a puppet after death."
Zephyr shuddered. No matter the world, disturbing the dead was never welcomed.
"What do we do now?" he asked.
Dianna stretched, the motion subtly highlighting her curves, then cast a glance at the darkening sky. "We should rest. We'll take turns keeping watch. I'll take the first shift."
Zephyr didn't argue. He was beyond exhausted. "Wake me when it's my turn."
Lying down near the fire, he closed his eyes.
For the first time in what felt like forever, sleep came easily. No headaches, no nightmares. Just silence.
Until the eerie, creeping screams echoed through the forest, jolting him awake.