Hounds of Phulas

And so they ran. As if their lives depended on it. As if they would die if they stopped or slowed down to look behind them.

Owen only had one large bag that hung on his back. While Lucia carried a much larger bag than him plus another one that she carried which was slowing her down. So Owen took it for her.

"My nephew. Your lesson starts now," Lucia suddenly said through gritted teeth. She spat a mouthful of blood to the ground. "Starting today, you will learn to become a proper Dickman."

"Aunt Lucia. Surely that can wait. No?" Owen told her in concern. Their backs were already drenched with sweat. And he felt like his lungs were about to explode. He was so damned tired and he knew Lucia was too. That's why he couldn't understand why she was so insistent on this.

"No. This one's important so listen carefully." She tersely refused. No room for arguments. "Take this," she said while passing him a small stub of a used candle.

"What's this for?"

Lucia didn't answer immediately. She wiped the blood flowing out of her nose before saying, "Stole it… old man."

"Wha—"

"Shh!" Then she spat another blood.

"Should we stop for a bit?" Owen suggested. Worried. And a little annoyed. In the first place, they wouldn't have to experience any of these if not for her. He couldn't help but be annoyed. 'Where is George anyway?'

And also. The fact that there was another world behind the gate of the abandoned cemetery still hasn't sinked into him. But the feeling that they could probably die if they stopped kept nagging at the back of his head.

All his life, he was coddled by his family, especially by his father. He never had to run for his life. Nor did he ever have to worry about any danger. He was brought up to become a proper gentleman in Bonavillian ways. He attended school. Had high grades. He was any parent's dream son. All these were new to him.

"River… ahead of us." Lucia said, squeezing every ounce of her strength to get her message across. "Light that and… ha! Go to this place." She handed him a folded piece of paper, her fingers trembled. It was a map. And it had already turned yellow from age. Too old Owen feared he would damage it so he didn't open it yet.

But then Lucia suddenly slowed down. Her eyes rolled back before collapsing to the ground.

"Aunt Lucia!" Owen screamed and immediately checked on her. "No. You're kidding me, right? Is it one of your pranks? If so, please stop it. It isn't funny."

Unfortunately, Lucia wasn't kidding this time. She did collapse from exhaustion but she was still aware of her surroundings. She can hear and feel just fine. Just didn't have the strength to continue moving nor open her eyes.

Owen kneeled by her side. He checked her pulse. Her breathing. He was relieved when he found out she was still alive. He was grateful. But they had a much bigger problem.

Big, shadowy figures. Over a meter tall. Rows of uneven sharp teeth and fangs as long as an adult's palm. They were the Hounds of Phulas. They capture anyone who doesn't belong to the land of the undead. And anyone they capture they drag down to Aznarok. An expansive underworld prison nobody wishes to visit.

Three of them chased the two. And they now circled them as Lucia lay there on the dirt, Owen kneeling beside her.

The hounds let out a guttural howl. The grass shook. The trees trembled. And some branches fell off. Seemingly scared of the most feared beast in the whole of Phulas. And if they could run, they would have done that already.

The hounds took their time as they sauntered in their direction. They didn't have to worry their prey would escape. After all, it was next to impossible. And the idea of that ever happening was just ridiculous.

Then Owen felt a warm hand weakly squeezing his wrist. It was Lucia. She forced herself to move. There were tiny curves at the corner of her lips. She was grinning. And with trembling fingers that she could barely lift. She pointed to the candle in his hand.

But Owen couldn't move. He just stayed rooted at his position. Eyes glued to the beasts. Didn't even bother to look at her.

There was a reason why the Hounds of Phulas were feared. Not just their appearance. But they also instill fear to anyone they encounter. Makes them weak in the knees and makes them lose their will to fight and escape. Only fitting for the so-called Keepers of Aznarok.

But they have one weakness.

While Owen was still frozen, Lucia squeezed him even harder. And it finally took his attention. He noticed her pointing to the candle.

And so, without second thought, he immediately lit it with the match he always kept in his inner pocket. Gray smoke exploded and the hounds stepped back.

The candle was no ordinary candle. It was the Manda-Taki candle. And it gives the people in Phulas a body they can use in the land of the living.

The reason why the Hounds of Phulas were very hard to kill was because they didn't have a body. They're just shadows. And the smoke of Manda-Taki candles gives them one. Making them vulnerable.

And so, they stepped back.

For now, Owen and Lucia were safe. But they have another problem. The candle they had was very small.