The morning sun rose over Brigadoon, casting long shadows across the town as Lucian, Laila, Elina, and Selia packed the final items for their journey. The village, still waking up in the early light, seemed peaceful—almost unaware of the storm that was about to unfold in the wilderness beyond. But the four of them knew the truth: they weren't heading out just to hunt or track. They were going to face something far older, far darker than anything they had ever imagined.
The air smelled of fresh pine and dew, the usual scent of the valley, but it felt different today. Heavy. The pressure of impending danger hung in the air like a thick fog. Lucian could feel it pressing against his chest, a weight he couldn't shake. It had been only days since the attack, yet his body still ached with the memory of the fight and the strange, powerful surge of magic that had erupted in him. Fusion. That connection with Laila—he'd never forget it. But there was something else now, something deeper that burned within him. A hunger. The magic inside him was no longer just a tool—it was a part of him, a new pulse in his veins. And with it came the sense that he could never go back to the way things were.
Laila, standing beside him, didn't speak, but her hand brushed his lightly. Her eyes were focused ahead, but there was a familiar quiet strength in her presence. She had changed too. The water magic that flowed through her had grown stronger, more fluid, almost as if it had become one with her.
"Ready?" Selia's voice cut through the tension, her sharp eyes scanning the clearing as if she expected an attack at any moment.
Lucian nodded, adjusting the pack on his shoulders. "Ready."
"We'll be taking the old path through the mountains," Selia continued, her voice steady and devoid of any trace of uncertainty. "It's not a well-trodden route, but it's the quickest way to get us to the heart of this darkness. We're looking for the source of the corruption, the place where the magic is rooted. The deeper we go, the stronger the influence will be."
"What do we do if we find it?" Elina asked, her voice sharp. There was no fear in her, only resolve.
Selia didn't hesitate. "We destroy it. Whatever it is, we end it. We can't afford to leave anything behind."
Lucian swallowed, his throat dry. "And if we can't destroy it?"
"Then we'll die trying," Selia said grimly. "We have no choice. There's no turning back now."
The finality in her words settled over them like a shroud. Lucian glanced at Laila, her expression unreadable, before turning his gaze to the distant mountains. They were tall, jagged, and unforgiving. The path ahead was uncertain, filled with dangers they couldn't predict. But it was a path they had to take.
The journey started in silence. The woods were dense, the trees thick with the scent of earth and damp moss. The path was barely visible in some places, overgrown with vines and brambles that scraped at their legs as they pushed forward. The further they went, the more the forest seemed to close in around them. The air grew colder, and the light dimmed as the canopy thickened overhead.
"Stay alert," Selia warned, her voice a low murmur. "The corruption isn't just in the forest—it's in the land itself. You'll feel it before you see it."
Lucian wasn't sure what she meant until they crossed a small stream and the air shifted. A sudden, oppressive weight pressed against his chest, as if the very earth itself was holding its breath. The birds, which had once filled the air with their song, had gone silent. Even the wind seemed to hold still. The world felt wrong, unnatural, like it had been twisted out of shape.
"What is this?" Lucian asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Selia's eyes flicked to the ground, then back to the trees. "It's the magic," she said quietly. "It's everywhere now. We're getting closer."
Laila's hand tightened around her staff, the familiar blue glow flickering faintly. She glanced at Lucian, her expression troubled. "I can feel it too," she murmured. "It's like a dark shadow, pressing against me."
They continued onward, each step feeling heavier than the last. The path twisted through the thick woods, winding up toward the mountains. Lucian could feel the weight of the land pressing against him, as though the very earth was resisting their passage. His heart raced, and every instinct screamed at him to turn back.
They stopped at the base of a cliff as the sun began to set. The temperature had dropped, and the air smelled faintly of smoke and decay. Selia motioned for them to gather around.
"We camp here for the night," she said, setting down her pack. "We'll need to rest before pushing further. Tomorrow, we begin the final leg of the journey."
Lucian nodded, but he couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at him. As they set up camp, he caught sight of a dark shape moving at the edge of his vision. He spun around, heart thundering in his chest, but the shape was gone. His breath caught in his throat, but there was no sign of anything out of place.
It was just the darkness, he told himself. The forest playing tricks on him.
But when he settled down to sleep, the uneasy feeling didn't leave. Every rustle of the trees, every creak of the branches seemed to grow louder, more ominous. He could hear the soft hum of magic in the air, just beneath the surface, like a low growl waiting to be unleashed.
Lucian awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of movement. Someone was outside their camp. His heart raced, and he reached for the dagger at his side. He rose silently, careful not to disturb Laila or Elina, and crept toward the edge of the camp.
The night was thick with fog, and the trees loomed like specters, their branches twisted and unnatural. The air felt heavier now, as if the very atmosphere was saturated with malevolent energy.
Lucian stepped forward cautiously, his breath shallow. Then, without warning, a figure stepped out of the fog—a tall, hooded man cloaked in shadow. His presence felt wrong, like a cold wind that stole the warmth from the air.
Lucian froze. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance.
The figure didn't answer. Instead, he raised his hand, and the air around Lucian seemed to pulse. The trees creaked as if they were alive, and the ground beneath his feet shuddered.
"Stay back," Lucian said, his hand tightening around the hilt of his dagger. But the figure didn't move, only watching him with cold, empty eyes from beneath the hood.
Suddenly, the ground erupted, and Lucian was thrown backward, landing hard against the dirt. The air crackled with dark energy, and the figure's voice echoed in his mind, a whisper that slid under his skin.
It's too late. You cannot stop it. The darkness will consume everything.
Lucian scrambled to his feet, but the figure was already gone, disappearing back into the fog as if he had never been there.
He ran back to the camp, his heart racing. Laila and Elina were awake, their eyes wide with alarm.
"What happened?" Elina demanded, standing up and grabbing her bow.
"I don't know," Lucian panted. "A man—he was standing outside the camp. He… he said we couldn't stop it. That it was too late."
Selia, who had been sleeping lightly, stood quickly and drew her knives. "The darkness is moving faster than I thought," she muttered. "We need to keep moving. We can't let it catch us here."
The moment stretched, an unbearable tension hanging in the air, before Selia spoke again, her voice hard and sure. "We move at first light. We push on—whatever happens, we don't stop."
Lucian's heart was pounding, but he didn't hesitate. They had come this far. They had no choice but to continue.
The darkness was already moving. And they had to stop it—before it consumed everything.