This was no ordinary expedition; instead, this was The Last Hunt. It was the culmination of everything he’d spent his life preparing for, and he wasn’t sure he was ready.
The forest was eerily quiet. The storm clouds rolled over the horizon like dark, churning waves, their ominous shadows stretching across the barren plains.
Duncan Grey tightened his grip on the reins of his horse, the leather creaking in his hands.
The kind of silence that wasn’t natural, the kind that made Duncan Grey’s instincts scream at him to turn back.
He knew better, though. After decades of hunting, he could recognize when the woods weren’t just silent—they were watching.
Beside him, Erin Grey, his thirteen-year-old granddaughter, gripped a wooden charm tightly in her hand.
It was a small carving Duncan had given her years ago, meant to ward off evil.
Her wide, curious eyes darted across the dense woods, taking in every shadow.
“Do you think she knows we’re here?” she whispered. “She knows,” Duncan muttered, his voice a low growl.
He adjusted the crossbow on his back, feeling its familiar weight. “She always knows.”
The two pressed on into the heart of the forest. It had been years since Duncan had walked this path, yet the memories clung to him like smoke.
This was where it had all started—his first hunt for Kaeldra, the last of the great beasts.
Back then, he’d been young, foolish, and hungry for glory.
Now, years later, the weight of his mistakes hung heavy on his shoulders. This wasn’t about pride or trophies anymore.
The Last Hunt was about redemption. As they approached a moss-covered altar in a moonlit clearing, Erin stopped abruptly.
“Grandpa,” she said, her voice trembling.
She pointed at the ground ahead. Bones. Dozens of them, scattered around the clearing.
Some were animal, but others… others were unmistakably human.
“Feeding ground,” Duncan muttered grimly. “She’s toying with us.” Erin shivered, clutching her charm even tighter.
“Why would she do this?” “To make us understand,” came a voice from the shadows.
It wasn’t Kaeldra—it was deeper, colder, and somehow more human.
A tall figure stepped into the moonlight: Alec Thron, Duncan’s former apprentice.
Duncan stiffened. “Alec? What are you doing here?”
Alec smirked, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword. “Finishing what you couldn’t.
You’ve grown soft, old man. This isn’t a negotiation—it’s a hunt. The Last Hunt.”
He spat the words with venom, as if mocking the very idea of redemption.
Duncan squared his shoulders. “You don’t understand. This isn’t about killing Kaeldra anymore. It’s bigger than that.”
“Oh, I understand just fine,” Alec said, his smirk fading into a scowl.
“She’s the last of her kind, Duncan. If we don’t end her, what’s to stop the cycle from starting all over again?”
“She’s not the monster you think she is,” Erin interjected, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. “She’s trying to protect the balance.”
Alec barked a laugh. “The balance? Is that what she told you? I’ve seen what she does to villages.
To people. There’s no balance in that.”
Before Duncan could respond, the air shifted. A low, guttural growl echoed through the clearing, and from the shadows emerged Kaeldra.
Her sleek, obsidian-black scales glimmered in the moonlight, and her molten-gold eyes locked onto Duncan.
Meanwhile, she was massive, her presence filling the clearing like a force of nature.
“Duncan Grey,” Kaeldra said, her voice resonating in their minds rather than their ears.
“Back again. And, furthermore, you’ve brought your kin.” Her gaze shifted to Erin, softening ever so slightly. “She is… different.”
Duncan stepped forward, his jaw tight. “This isn’t about the past. It’s about fixing what’s broken.
The Last Hunt isn’t about killing you, Kaeldra. It’s about making things right.”
Kaeldra tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “And yet, you stand with a blade at your side.
Your apprentice thirsts for blood. Tell me, Duncan Grey, how do you plan to make things right when your hands are already stained?”
The words stung, and Duncan felt the weight of years of guilt pressing down on him.
He glanced at Erin, who looked back at him with a mix of fear and determination. He couldn’t fail her—not like he had failed Mara.
The memory of Mara’s rage flashed in his mind. She had found them just days ago, bow in hand and fury in her eyes.
“You’re taking her into the forest?” she had shouted. “After everything you did to me? After everything she’s done?”
“It’s not like that,” Duncan had tried to explain. “This is different. Erin… she’s part of this.”
Mara had turned her glare on Erin, her expression softening only slightly. “You’re just a kid. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”
“I want to help,” Erin had said firmly, standing her ground. “Kaeldra said I could make a difference.”
Mara’s jaw had tightened, and she had shot Duncan a look that could have cut through steel. “If she gets hurt, it’s on you.”
Now, standing before Kaeldra, Duncan felt the full weight of that promise.
He drew a deep breath. “Kaeldra, I know I’ve made mistakes.
I know I’ve caused harm. But this isn’t about me. It’s about Erin.
She’s not like the rest of us. She… she can hear the forest, feel its pain. You said it yourself—she’s different.”
Kaeldra’s gaze lingered on Erin, her expression unreadable. “She is the bridge,” Kaeldra said softly.
“The thread that binds what was to what remains. But bridges must be strong, Duncan Grey. Stronger than you.”
The night deepened as Kaeldra led them to the heart of the forest—a shimmering pool surrounded by ancient trees.
The air was heavy with the scent of moss and something deeper, something ancient.
Alec followed at a distance, his sword drawn but his expression uncertain.
Mara appeared from the shadows, her bow slung across her back and her eyes sharp as ever.
“What the hell is this?” she demanded, her voice low and tense.
“It’s The Last Hunt,” Duncan said, his voice weary but resolute. “But it’s not what you think.”
Mara’s eyes flicked to Erin, then to Kaeldra. “And you’re trusting her now? After everything?”
Erin stepped forward, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands.
“It’s not about trust, Mom. It’s about balance. Kaeldra doesn’t want to destroy the world. She wants to save it.”
Alec scoffed. “Save it? By killing everything in her path?”
Kaeldra’s growl silenced him. “I have killed to protect, not to destroy. But you, Alec Thron… you kill because you are afraid.”
The words hung heavy in the air. Alec’s grip on his sword tightened, but he didn’t speak.
Duncan turned to Erin. “It’s your choice now. This is your hunt.”
Erin hesitated, her gaze shifting between Kaeldra, the pool, and her family. She could feel the forest’s whispers growing louder, urging her forward.
Slowly, she knelt by the pool and dipped her hands into the shimmering water. The moment her fingers touched the surface, a brilliant light erupted, spreading outward in waves.
When the light faded, the clearing was transformed. Moreover, the trees seemed taller, their leaves vibrant and full of life.
The air felt lighter, cleaner, as if the forest itself had taken a deep breath. Kaeldra’s massive form had diminished, her sleek body now smaller, her golden eyes filled with gratitude.
“It is done,” Kaeldra said, her voice softer now. “The balance is restored.”
Duncan placed a hand on Erin’s shoulder, his voice choked with emotion. “You did it.”
Erin smiled faintly, though tears streamed down her face. “We did it.”
Mara approached, her expression unreadable. She knelt beside Erin and pulled her into a tight embrace.
“You’re stronger than I ever was,” she whispered.
Alec, meanwhile, stood silently at the edge of the clearing, his sword hanging limply at his side.
Without a word, he turned and disappeared into the shadows.
Kaeldra bowed her head to Erin. “You are the bridge now. Guard it well.”
As the sun rose over the rejuvenated forest, Duncan, Erin, and Mara began their journey home.
Ultimately, The Last Hunt was over, yet its lessons would stay with them forever.
For the first time in years, Duncan felt something he thought he had lost: hope.
