.We set camp in the shadow of a low ridge, where ancient pines leaned over like old sentinels. The fire cracked softly, throwing orange light against the cold, grey night. The air smelled of smoke, pine resin, and the iron edge of the northern wind. Jered sat across from me, sipping from his flask, already wearing that half-smile that meant he was about to tell some crude story. The twins were off to one side, spreading their bedrolls far enough to be apart but close enough to watch me from the corner of their eyes.
The older one leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand.
"So, commander… you sure you'll be warm enough tonight with just a blanket?"
The younger smirked, letting her gaze travel deliberately down my body before locking eyes with me again.
"Or would you rather we made sure you didn't freeze?"
I took a slow drink from my cup, then looked at them with that tone they already knew meant the conversation was over.
"I don't need you in my bed. I need you ready to fight tomorrow. The north won't care about your games, and neither will I."
They went quiet, though I heard the older whisper something to her sister, followed by a stifled laugh. I ignored it.
The night deepened. The fire sank into glowing coals. I lay back under my cloak, the weight of exhaustion pulling at me, and my eyes closed.
Then I heard it.
At first, only a faint whisper — soft, almost like the wind slipping between branches. But the air was still. The whisper grew clearer, warmer… feminine.
"Aric…"
I opened my eyes.
This wasn't a dream. I sat up, scanning the trees. The voice had come from the treeline, just beyond the last reach of the firelight.
She emerged from the shadow of an ancient pine. Tall, barefoot, her skin pale as moonlight yet with a strange shimmer, as though each movement bent the air around her. Her hair was a flowing black streaked with fine strands of silver metal that caught the faintest glow. And her eyes… were not eyes at all. They were hollow voids that pulled you in — a darkness that promised answers you weren't sure you wanted.
She was something between a dark elf and a demon, but not either. I'd heard the name once before — "Shaelith" — when Thalina had spoken quietly over wine about the oldest beings of the far north. The ones who had stood at the cradle of the first runes… and never let go of them.
"You still stand between two paths," she said, her voice carrying like an echo through an empty hall. "Come with me. Return the ancient runes to where they belong. To their rightful heir. Or… chase your missing villagers, and end up in the same place I am already showing you."
She moved closer, slow, deliberate, the earth making no sound beneath her bare feet. When she passed beside me, I could feel the heat radiating from her skin, smell something sharp and sweet, like crushed night-blooming flowers.
"Up here," she went on, "many races walk these lands. Some will ignore you. Some… will try to keep you as theirs." Her voice dipped, the last word brushing against my mind like fingers against bare skin. She leaned in until her breath touched my ear.
"And I… would like to keep you for myself."
I didn't move. My hand itched to reach for my sword — but my arm wouldn't obey. Not out of fear, but something stranger.
She stepped back, her gaze holding mine as if tethered by an invisible chain.
"Choose, Aric. But remember… even refusing is a choice."
The mist coiled around her legs, curling upward until it swallowed her whole. One blink, and she was gone — leaving only the sound of my heartbeat and the faint taste of her voice in my head.
I stood there in the dim light, my pulse heavy in my ears, knowing I'd just been given a choice that would change not only my life, but maybe the fate of everything we'd come north to face
Morning came cold and grey, with no birdsong to greet the day. The fire in our pit had burned down to faint embers, and a damp heaviness lingered in the air, as if the night itself refused to let the light in. I was awake before the others, standing by the edge of camp with the weight of her words still echoing in my head. That voice… it hadn't just brushed against my mind — it had carved itself into it.
Jered was tightening his belt when he noticed me. "You look like you didn't sleep a damn minute," he muttered, stepping closer.
"I didn't," I said. "And it wasn't just sleeplessness."
The twins had been stirring, still wrapped in their blankets, but at the tone in my voice, they abandoned their usual morning teasing and drifted over.
"What happened?" the older one asked, her voice uncharacteristically serious.
I looked at the three of them, knowing that if I was going to tell anyone, it would be them.
"She came to me again last night. But this time… it wasn't a dream. She walked out of the trees, stood right in front of me. Spoke of the ancient runes… and of a choice I'd have to make."
"Who?" Jered asked sharply, the curiosity in his voice carrying a note of caution.
"A Shaelith," I answered quietly. "Something between a dark elf and a demon, but not truly either. Thalina once mentioned them over wine — the oldest beings of the far north, the ones who stood at the cradle of the first runes… and never let go." I took a slow breath. "She said the runes belong to her people. That I should return them. Or that I'd end up in the place she's already showing me, no matter which path I take."
Both twins exchanged wide-eyed looks. The older spoke first: "We're dark elves… and we've never even heard of that race."
"Then there are likely plenty of races we don't know about," I said, my gaze turning northward. "And some are probably better left undiscovered."
The younger crossed her arms. "But she singled you out. That means she's been watching you for a long time."
"Maybe," I admitted. "But I know what she's doing. She's testing me. Trying to pull me into something. Whatever truth she's dangling, it's bait."
Jered snorted and swung his pack over his shoulder. "Sounds like we're in for a lively march. But if she shows up again, don't let her drag you into her game."
"Exactly," the older twin added, her tone sharp. "If someone wants to 'claim' you, they'll have to go through us first."
I shook my head, though their resolve drew the faintest, fleeting smile to my lips.
"All right. Let's move. Whether it's a trap or not, the north will have more waiting for us than we can guess."
And so we set off, each of us carrying the unspoken truth that our journey had just become far more dangerous — and that somewhere ahead, in the mists of the north, the Shaelith was waiting.