Spooktober 2025: Swift

Previous Chapter Spooktober 2025: Foes   The staff pulsed again in my hand and my eyes were unwillingly drawn to the stream that left the pond, following it down, down the mountainside until it met up with a river in the valley. The little boat in my pocket came to mind, and just like that I had a plan.   As the company below me slowly dispersed, I crept down the tree. Once I was close enough I waited, hoping that they would all leave, but no such luck. The leader who had directed them and the one with the amulet had stayed, and were whispering to each other, quiet enough that I could not hear.   As they started to search the underbrush around the pond, I noticed that when they passed a tree they would say a word to it, and the whole tree would quiver, is if trying to shake out... me. Oh gods, at least I had chosen a tree further up the mountain, though with my plan I wished I had gone around to the other side of the pond.   Panic was once again starting to take hold, my breath a swift bellows as my heart raced.   Drink mead for the moment, when courage runs dry, When thunder has faded and fear fills the sky. Raise up your heart as the hearth’s embers fly— Drink mead for the moment, and dare still to try   The words came to me unbidden, but it seemed like sound advice, so I grabbed the gem encrusted flask and took several long pulls. Warmth rushed through me as the night came to life. filled now with liquid courage I waited another moment, until one of the searchers whispered to another tree, then as it started to quiver, I dropped to the ground.   I was off, swift as a hunting Jaccast whatever that was these words of a past life still cropping up unbidden in my head. But as long as they descended with reckless speed I guess it was a good comparison. As I made it to the far side of the pond and burst through the ferns a cry when up behind me, barely heard over the rushing blood in my ears.   Faster I prayed, to anyone who would listen, They are in armor, please, I should be faster, running down my mountain. Unseen a single star pulsed, and my staff grew warm in my hand.   Trees, stumps, and boulders flew by as I charged down the slope at speeds truly reckless, but once again I had the strange sensation of my feet knowing where to carry me. As more cries went up behind me I unstopped the second flask I had found, for while the fog trail would make me easier to follow, I hoped it would obscure the path for those in it, slowing them down on the treacherous slope.   Sometime later, it could have been minutes, or maybe hours, it seemed as though the moon hadn't moved at all since I had left the strange temple, I reached the valley floor. I paused a moment looking up the mountain. I could see a huge wedge of fog, marking my path down the mountain, and within that fog the strange blue torches and shouts of those who were pursuing me.   Turning back around I pulled out the little parchment boat and threw it into the river with the same curious flick I had used when I first found it. It quickly unfolded to full size and swiftly headed down stream. With a brief yelp, I rushed after it, jumping in after a few yards (and nearly capsizing the boat as I did). I stoppered the fog flask, hoping to muddy my trail further once my pursuers reached the river, and lay down in the boat to reduce my silhouette. The current picked up, and I was whisked downstream, more swift than even a horse could run.   I started to breath a little easier, until I noticed the sound of the water take on a strange echo-y quality, I sat up just in time to groan. The river continued its course underground, and I could do nothing as the mountains swallowed the sky and the river, and me along with them.   Next Chapter Spooktober 2025: Pits