The howl came again, closer this time, carrying with it a vibration that rattled the loose stones at Kaelen's feet. The mist along the plateau's edge thickened, twisting into shapes that almost—almost—resembled hunched figures.
Orien drew the short, curved blade from her hip. The metal caught no light, as if it drank it instead.
"Stay behind me," she ordered.
"I can fight," Kaelen replied, though his hand was already drifting toward the pouch she'd given him.
From the veil of mist, the first hunter emerged — a gaunt silhouette that seemed stitched together from shadow and bone. Its head tilted unnaturally, the movement sharp and insect-like. Then it moved, closing the distance in a blur.
Orien met it mid-lunge, her blade carving a line through its torso. The creature shrieked, a sound that stabbed at Kaelen's ears like shards of ice. Yet even wounded, it didn't fall — its body rippled and reformed, shadows knitting themselves back together.
You can't kill them like that.
The Shard's voice cut through the chaos, cool and assured.
They are bound to the same mist that birthed me. Strike with my name on your lips, and watch them unravel.
Kaelen's grip on the pouch tightened. His heart pounded with the weight of choice.
Another hunter materialized behind Orien, claws arcing toward her back. Kaelen shouted a warning, but she was already turning, her blade flashing — too slow to block the second claw.
Say my name, the Shard urged, the words hot and insistent now. One breath, and I will make you unstoppable.
The world seemed to narrow to that moment — Orien's stumble, the hunter's claws, the weight of the Shard's voice — and Kaelen knew that whatever he chose next might change everything