The moon poured a creamy light onto the forest beneath, just as the wind was busy whispering secrets to the tall trees hung with moss, forming a canopy that kept the ground beneath in perennial darkness even during the day.

Two twin spheres were glowing from that dense foliage; from time to time, they disappeared, only to reappear immediately after. A short-eared owl was watching its surroundings from its home, that century-old oak; a seedling compared to the ageless creatures that swarmed about those lands.

There was a female marmot somewhere, desperate enough to dare challenge the night. The owl had it all planned: first, he would lunge and kill, second, he would quickly devour the uncooperative flesh. Only then, could he relax and enjoy dessert; he had been patient, waiting for her squeaky youngsters to grow up a little, suckled by the milk of the mother he had let live.

While that hunter was preparing for the upcoming feast, we were being led to our own slaughter.

Gravel crunched in protest as horse hooves and wheels trampled over it. My gated carriage tilted a little before it came to a final stop. A long exhale left my mouth as my eyes followed the veins of my hands, folded on my lap. Here we go.

Like the cattle we were, about a dozen of us poured out of the carriages.

"Start running immediately," I chanted to myself, my thumb shot up from my clenched hand at my side, "Never turn back," My index finger snapped down to join as I counted, "Never, ever leave the trail," My hand counted until three, "And pray to the moon, and all other satellites, that they will pretend you are not here. And if they don't, ignore them, and if they catch someone, don't look." I had run out of fingers by then.

Half a day to cross Molten Land through the path lit by blue torches on each side. We were warned against leaving the marked route, alone or not.

"Don't let go of my hand," I reminded Gianni as I craned my neck. With glasses thicker than most skulls, secured at the back of his head with a string, laces strangling his shoes, knotted twice, my Gianni looked prepared.

"I l-love you Odette, but if I were to stumble or fall-"

"Hush!" I elbowed him and he jerked away with a yelp. "We'll get out of here."

My conviction was real, palpable. Gianni hesitated, clearly not believing me but managed to throw a smile my way regardless.

I had no time to comfort him.

It was time to run.

And only that counted.

Fog pawed at the narrow, blue-lit path that meandered left and right until it disappeared.

My legs and feet darted forward, bringing me into the unknown as fast as possible, pulling Gianni behind me.

The blue fires quietly playing with the breeze guided my eyes, fear commanded my legs, determination pumped my heart. I focused on the faces of my father and my brother and on the empty chairs around the dining table where my mother and sister were supposed to sit.

Follow the blue torches. Stay on the path.

The air grew thicker. The aroma of the pine mingled with that of rust.

Sweat broke out, pouring off me in streams. I will win. I will leave. I will come back home.

Our feet took us to the Valley.

Bizarre sculptures and their macabre silence greeted us. The sight was not intended to please: war elephants, fish-heads, gargoyles with folded wings, grotesque grimacing humanoids stood in a row, facing one another.

I swallowed thickly when I recognised the blue torches at the foot of each statue.

We had to pass through them!

The faces of the statues were not of joy, nor of that kind of artistic seriousness that inspired awe.

A warning.

In their quietness, they seemed to be saying 'run away, because if you die here nobody will ever know; we will not care. The next lot won't have time to care.'

We moved again, weaving in and out around each statue.

It was later, maybe a dozen of monsters later, that I saw it.

Skidding a little, I stopped about a mile away. Waves of panic crashed over me, flooding every inch of flesh, pore, bone.

Dwarfing the rest - perhaps loyal subjects in their eternal slumber, this statue was at the very end of the Valley. It could represent a man, or a god, with horns rising to the sky as if to challenge its rule, and bat wings spread open behind. He sat on a throne the size of my home, with clawed hands resting on his armrests. The accompanying inscription read, "All reason departs."

None of this had scared me.

No.

His expression did. With his mouth open in a silent scream, baring rows of sharp teeth, he looked furious. Eyebrows pushed together and flaring nostrils gave the final touch of this masterpiece of fear.

I must have breathed too much mist since it seemed to me that those hollow black eyes, without pupils, had moved.

"Odette," Gianni whimpered, arms belting around me, "I saw s-something over t-there."

"Not now," I said, gulping down my anxiety.

"But l-look!" His hand rose, index finger pointing accusingly at the cause of his stuttering.

I searched the blue-lit path. Just fog, torches, and silence.

"There's nothing," my hand grasped Gianni's shaky one, squeezing it.

"N-no!" He protested, scurrying behind me, "I don't want to go! I saw something! Yes! Right in the middle of the path! Look!"

"Nothing will happen if we stay on the marked route," I deadpanned, "it's the rule."

He sucked in a breath but said no more.

I thought I almost convinced Gianni ... A sharp crack filled the air.

"Did you-hear that O-de-tte?"

I glanced up just in time to see a large rock bounce and crush into the battered ground a few meters away to our right; the echo faded but our hearts were still slamming.

Gianni coughed as more fractures followed. Hard matter was falling apart, some rolling down.

"Let's go!" I shouted, shoving him forward. He stumbled and fell like another piece of a broken rock. My hand found his forearm as he stood up, his glasses dangling precariously but he pushed them back up.

Most of us was still behind. I heard gasps, bewilderment and uncertainty. They must have been a mile or less behind us and still had to cross the whole valley, while we only had that last bit ...

We continued towards the statue overlooking the world from his eternal throne. The closer I got, the more terror gripped my lungs. The shorter the distance, the more I glimpsed at details unnoticeable before: scales scattered on parts of the humongous body, like those of a snake; claws were curled at the ends; and - my breath caught in my throat, a scar was on his right breastplate. Or is it a fracture? Strange. I should have noticed it before, as the crack was long, deep and zig zag.

I looked away as we overcame the statue.

Cracks and crushes continued.

Then the 'music' changed. Screams began. Screams of desperation, shock but most of all...fear. Our friends were terrified of something we had just escaped.

"We need to help them," Gianni pleaded.

I shook my head as tears rained all around. From me, from the sky.

The torchlight path wove through another womb of mist...

A mist that sang to us, "Sweet humans of mine!"

My eyes went wide. There was a note of insanity in the childish voice, "Greetings, greetings! I have a shortcut."

"Have you heard?" Gianni whined, slowing down my pace.

I sucked in a breath, "you are kidding."

"I'm tired, Odette," he cried out, "my foot's blistering!"

"Gianni-"

"Come, come," the voice continued, "A shortcut and salve. I have, I have."

I balled my hands into fists. "Shut up!" I yelled.

"I'll catch up." Gianni sighed, as white as a ghost.

"No," I let out a frustrated sigh, "Not a chance."

"Odette, please ... usually men all come back. My risks are minimal."

I shook my head, "We will finish this together."

Before this nonsense could continue, we all heard it.

The crazy thing lurking right outside our path.

Gianni.

Me.

The owl feasting on the family.

Everyone heard it.

A growl.

The growl.

It cut the night in two, and I almost expected to see the moon bleed.

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