The forest stretched endlessly before them, the towering pines swaying gently in the cold wind. Shadows pooled beneath the canopy, shifting with every flicker of light that pierced through the dense foliage. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine resin, and the distant cries of nocturnal creatures echoed in the stillness.
Zaedric adjusted the strap of his pack, his mind weighed down by the revelations of the past days. His body still ached from the encounter at the ruins, but there was no time to dwell on it. Every moment wasted was another step closer to whatever forces might be hunting them.
Deyvar walked a few paces ahead, scanning the surroundings with the practiced caution of a soldier. Lyria, despite her exhaustion, kept pace with Zaedric, her eyes darting between the shadows.
"We should reach Eldrin's Rest in a few days if we keep moving," Deyvar muttered. "But I don't like this road. It's too quiet."
Zaedric nodded. "After everything we've seen, quiet isn't comforting anymore."
Lyria shivered, pulling her cloak tighter around herself. "Do you think… do you think they'll be waiting for us there?"
Zaedric exhaled sharply. "I don't know. But Eldrin's Rest is a place of knowledge. If there's anywhere we can find answers, it's there."
The group pressed on, their boots crunching against the underbrush. The deeper they ventured, the more oppressive the silence became. There were no birds, no rustling of small animals just the wind whispering through the trees.
Then, a twig snapped in the distance.
Deyvar stopped, his hand on his sword. "Something's following us."
Zaedric turned slowly, his pulse quickening. At first, there was nothing but the shifting shadows of the forest. Then, a flicker of movement, a shape blending seamlessly with the darkness.
Lyria grabbed his arm. "Zaedric-"
A growl rumbled through the air, low and guttural.
Then, the silence shattered.
From the depths of the trees, figures emerged twisted, humanoid shapes with elongated limbs and glowing, ember-like eyes. Their movements were unnatural, jerky yet eerily fast. They were not demons like the ones that had destroyed Varethia, but something else. Something just as deadly.
Deyvar drew his sword in an instant. "Run or fight?"
Zaedric clenched his jaw. Running wasn't an option, not this deep in unknown territory. He reached for his weapon, feeling the weight of cold steel in his grip.
"We fight."
The creatures lunged.
Zaedric barely had time to react before one of them was upon him, its clawed fingers swiping for his throat. He ducked, driving his blade forward, but the creature twisted unnaturally, avoiding the strike with inhuman speed.
Deyvar's sword cleaved through another, the steel slicing into its flesh but instead of blood, a thick, black mist seeped from the wound. The creature let out a shriek, recoiling for only a moment before surging forward again.
Lyria stumbled back, her hands glowing faintly as she tried to summon whatever meager magic she could muster. The energy flickered, weak and unstable, but it was enough to make one of the creatures hesitate.
Zaedric saw his opening.
With a grunt, he drove his sword into its chest, pushing with all his strength. This time, it staggered back, the ember glow in its eyes flickering before it crumpled to the ground.
But there were more coming.
Dozens of them.
"Fall back!" Deyvar shouted, his breath labored. "We can't take them all!"
Zaedric grabbed Lyria, pulling her with him as they retreated deeper into the trees. The creatures pursued, their movements relentless, their shrieks piercing through the night.
They ran.
Branches whipped against their faces, roots threatened to trip them, but they didn't stop. The glow of their pursuers grew fainter behind them, but the threat was far from over.
As they burst into a clearing, panting and bloodied, Zaedric knew one thing for certain:
Whatever these creatures were, they had been waiting for them.
And they were not alone.
The clearing provided little solace. The moment Zaedric and his companions stumbled into the open space, the air grew thick with a heavy, suffocating presence. The moonlight, once their silent guide, seemed weaker here, as if the very night conspired against them.
Zaedric scanned the treeline, his heart hammering against his ribs. The creatures hadn't followed immediately. Why? He turned to Deyvar, who was already checking the edges of the clearing, his sword still slick with the dark mist-like essence from their attackers.
"They stopped," Lyria whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "Why did they stop?"
Zaedric exhaled sharply. "They're waiting."
"For what?" Deyvar growled, wiping his blade against his sleeve.
As if in response, a sound echoed through the night a slow, deliberate series of clicks. The noise sent a shiver down Zaedric's spine, and he instinctively took a step back.
Then the treeline shifted.
A figure emerged, taller than the creatures they had just fought, clad in tattered robes that swayed despite the absence of wind. Its face was hidden beneath a hood, but the air around it crackled with something potent and unnatural.
Zaedric's grip on his sword tightened. "Who are you?"
The figure took another step forward. The ground beneath its feet darkened, the grass withering in its wake. When it finally spoke, its voice was neither deep nor high-pitched but layered, as if multiple voices spoke in unison.
"You tread upon the brink, travelers. You carry something that does not belong."
Lyria clutched at her cloak. "We, we don't know what you mean."
The figure tilted its head slightly. "Lies."
Deyvar took a step forward, placing himself protectively between the figure and the others. "We don't want trouble."
The figure let out a breath—though it sounded less like exhalation and more like the wind escaping from a long-sealed tomb. "Trouble has already found you."
The moment the last word left its mouth, the shadows around them began to stretch and twist. The creatures from before reappeared at the treeline, no longer lurking, but poised, waiting for an unspoken command.
Zaedric's mind raced. They were surrounded, outnumbered, exhausted. There was no way they could fight their way through this. He turned his gaze back to the figure. "What do you want?"
A pause. Then, the hooded entity slowly lifted a hand, its fingers long and skeletal. "The Aetherbrand."
Zaedric's breath hitched. He had never heard that word before, yet something about it resonated deep within him, an unfamiliar yet undeniable pull. He glanced at his companions, but they seemed just as confused.
Deyvar's expression darkened. "We don't have it."
The figure's fingers curled slightly, and instantly, the creatures at the edge of the clearing tensed. "Then you will be tested."
The ground beneath them trembled.
The first strike came without warning. A shadowy claw lashed toward Zaedric, barely missing as he rolled aside. Another creature lunged at Lyria, only to be met with a desperate burst of light from her outstretched hands, sending it reeling back. Deyvar swung his blade, the steel biting into the nearest foe, but for every creature they struck down, another took its place.
Zaedric's chest burned with exertion as he parried and dodged, his muscles screaming in protest. They couldn't win this fight, not like this.
Then, out of the chaos, the hooded figure raised both arms, and the shadows surged forward in a wave.
Zaedric barely had time to react before the darkness swallowed him whole.