Right, an owl.
Not just any owl, though—no.
It wasn’t the type Malik saw in those merchant caravans.
This one was massive, its shadow doing it a disservice.
It easily dwarfed them all with its frame, its eye as big as he was tall.
Its feathers shimmered like metal, rich crimson with streaks of white around its beak and its horn-like plumicorns.
The owl was regal in a way he couldn’t quite describe.
As if it belonged in some divine palace, not the wilds.
Its eyes were the most unsettling part—huge, unblinking, and bright pink.
It tilted its head, its gaze sweeping over them with a curiosity that felt almost human.
Safira clutched Jasmine’s arm.
“What the hell is that?!”
Neither of them answered.
Malik’s hand stayed on his shamshir, but he didn’t draw it.
The owl let out a soft hoot and then, with a slow flap of its massive wings…
Whoosh!
It ascended, disappearing into the sky as quickly as it had come.
“…”
“…”
“…”
The silence it left behind was deafening.
For a moment, none of them moved. None of them spoke.
The tension broke only when Safira let out a shaky laugh.
“Seriously?… A crimson owl? I thought we were about to be lunch!”
A grin spread across Jasmine’s face.
“It was so cute~! Do you think the Faraja’d let us take one home? I mean, it’s basically pet material, right?”
Safira grinned back.
“Hehehe~ Maybe. Imagine rolling into Zawaya with that thing perched on your shoulder. Total boss move.”
Their laughter echoed across the flat terrain like they were trying to convince themselves the danger had passed.
Malik, though?
His face showed not a single change.
No smile, no chuckle—nothing.
He just resumed walking, his eyes resuming their scan of the skies.
Acting as though the real threat was just waiting for them to let their guard down.
His shoulders were hunched, his hand never straying far from his weapon.
And then, as if promised, it happened.
The wind picked up again, harder this time.
It wasn’t the ‘playful’ breeze that had accompanied the “cute” owl.
Nope. This wind carried weight. Malice.
The air grew heavier, literally, pressing them down onto the ground.
A shadow fell over them—huge, oppressive, dark.
The hairs on the back of the girls’ necks stood up straight.
“…Teach?”
“M-Malik?”
He didn’t respond, too busy trying to calm himself.
His breath couldn’t help but hitch as his head snapped to the shadow’s origin.
“Move…”
Then, louder:
“Move! NOW!”
Jasmine and Safira didn’t argue.
They bolted out of there, ducking behind a few lone trees some distance away.
Malik, meanwhile, stayed put, planted right where he stood.
One hand pressed on his back; the other gripped his shamshir, hovering in front of his chest.
But, learning from the last time, he calmed his grip, knowing not to be stiff.
The shadow circled overhead, savoring the moment.
And then it grew.
Bigger. Closer.
WHOOOSH!
The visitor made itself known.
A Roc.
Not just any Roc—an adult.
It was a monster in every sense of the word.
Its wings spread wide, blotting out the sky like a stormcloud with feathers.
Every beat of its wings sent shockwaves through the air, making the ground tremble beneath their feet.
“That…”
Safira peeked out from behind the tree, her mouth dropping open.
“That thing’s talons are bigger than the owl from earlier!”
She was right.
Its talons alone eclipsed that crimson owl in size.
They were like curved blades, glinting in the fading starlight.
‘You’ll regret… this.’
Ah, the memory of that bastard’s final words surfaced unbidden.
Regret.
Yeah, he was definitely feeling that now.
The pieces slammed into place in his head like a fucked-up puzzle.
His little “roughhousing” in Ghabeh hadn’t just stirred up trouble—it had poked the wrong beast.
The slavers, the smugglers, the bastards, with all their smug strutting and holier-than-thou swagger, hadn’t been bluffing.
They’d had a plan, a failsafe.
A nasty, vindictive little trap.
One that would ensure that even in death, they could enact their revenge.
One that was likely public knowledge, info that only he, the nobody, didn’t know.
Malik was the sucker who’d walked right into it.
Probably a Scroll—one set to trigger the moment they bit the dust.
Its job was to wake up the Roc nesting on top of that giant mushroom stalk in their territory.
It was all so obvious now.
Their arrogance, their cocky smirks—it wasn’t just ego.
They had this.
And now?
Well, Malik saw that regret manifest right in front of him.
He was once their “ghost” and now they were his, though in a more literal sense of the word.
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SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!
The Roc let out a deafening screech that rattled their bones.
Its beak snapped shut with a sound like a boulder splitting in two.
It didn’t just sound angry—it sounded like vengeance.
And Malik was the pitiful man standing on its warpath.
SKREEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAW!
It dove, death coming straight for him.
His brain screamed at him to move, run, dodge, SOMETHING!
But he could not. Feeling a painful déjà vu.
Up close, the Roc was gargantuan.
Not just big—impossible.
Chaos wrapped in feathers.
A force of nature that had no business existing.
Malevolent. Wicked. Unholy. Vile. Depraved. Fiendish.
He could only describe it with such words.
Truly… it was like staring at death itself.
One that he was familiar with, having stared at it once before.
And for a second, all Malik could do was gape like an idiot.
“TEACHER!”
“MALIK!”
Yet, thankfully, their screams snapped him out of it.
His legs finally kicked into gear, and he rushed to the side, running like his life depended on it—because, well, it did.
But, unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.
The Roc moved too fast.
Way too fast for a creature its size had any right to.
Malik barely had time to glance back before its massive beak opened, a black pit of doom ready to swallow him whole.
“TEAAAAAAAAAAAACHER!”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Safira’s scream.
Jasmine’s panicked shout.
And then—nothing.
The Roc’s beak snapped shut with a horrifying, final CRACK!
Just like that, he was gone.
Swallowed whole.
The world outside went silent.
For Malik, there was nothing but suffocating, endless darkness.
Blink.