Dawn found Norhollow muted, its streets quiet except for the sound of hammering wood as villagers patched the broken grain store. The air was thick with the smell of damp ash from the torches that burned all night.
Ethan stood near the square, watching a boy sweep away the last of the black ichor left by the creature's corpse. It had melted into a tar-like sludge by sunrise, leaving no bones, no organs—nothing the guild could study.
Marcus joined him, adjusting his breastplate. "Selene says she saw it coming from the east. Woods are that way."
Ethan glanced toward the tree line, where the fog still clung low. "You think it was hunting?"
Marcus shook his head. "Didn't feel like it. Felt like it knew exactly where it was going."
They set out after a quick meal—dry bread, smoked fish, and the stale taste of unease. Rowan led the way, his brawler's build cutting a clear path through the undergrowth. Lily followed close behind, eyes scanning the treetops as much as the ground. Selene muttered detection charms under her breath, and Ethan trailed near Lily, watching the forest for movement.
About an hour in, Rowan stopped so abruptly Marcus almost walked into him. "Tracks," Rowan said, kneeling.
Ethan crouched beside him. The prints were deep, heavier than a human's, the shape distorted by too many limbs. But what struck him most was their spacing—deliberate, purposeful, like the creature had been pacing itself.
"These aren't random," Ethan murmured. "It was conserving energy."
"Which means it was coming from far away," Lily said.
They followed the trail deeper into the woods, where the fog thickened into a pale wall. The smell changed too—less earth, more rot. Soon they found a patch of flattened brush, large enough for two of the creatures to have rested side by side.
Marcus knelt to touch the ground. "Still warm."
Selene shivered. "It didn't come alone."
A rustle in the distance made Ethan's grip tighten on his sword. The sound grew, snapping branches echoing in the stillness.
Then the undergrowth parted—and a deer stumbled out, eyes wide and glazed, a deep black vein pattern crawling up its neck. It collapsed at Ethan's feet, shuddered once, and went still.
Rowan swore. "That's not natural."
"No," Ethan said, staring at the veins. "It's infected."
Selene's voice was low. "If they can spread corruption to animals…"
"…then they can make the forest itself dangerous," Marcus finished grimly.
The trail ended at a rocky ridge. From the top, they could see the edge of the forest falling away to marshland. Something moved in the mist below—several somethings, shapes shifting and disappearing before they could focus on them.
"Tell me I'm not counting six," Rowan said.
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Six. And if they move like the last one…"
"We'll be seeing them in Norhollow soon," Lily finished.
Marcus exhaled, looking back toward the village. "We need to warn them, but we also need to find out where this leads. The guild's not going to believe us without proof."
"Then we go down," Ethan said.
No one disagreed, but as they started their descent into the marsh, Ethan caught Lily watching him. There was something in her gaze—concern, yes, but also… something softer. He pushed the thought away. There was no room for that here.
Not yet.