The morning mist clung to the earth like a stubborn memory, wrapping around the three travelers as they made their way through the forest. Callen, still fragile from the encounter with the cultists, stumbled occasionally, his hands trembling when they brushed against the cold bark of the trees. His eyes darted nervously from shadow to shadow, and every rustling leaf seemed to startle him. Lira, ever the silent guardian, walked ahead, her steps light but purposeful, and her flame still lingering faintly around her fingers in case the need arose. Ethan, walking at the rear of their small group, kept his gaze forward but his thoughts on the boy. He didn't ask, didn't prod, but he knew the pain of losing everything. The boy had lost more than family—he had lost his world, just like Ethan had in each of his lives.
The path was narrow and winding, barely a trace left from what had once been a well-traveled road. The trees were dense, their branches twisted in unnatural ways, as though the forest itself had been bent by the weight of something ancient and forgotten. Ethan noticed the stillness. Not a bird chirped. No insects hummed. It was as if the forest had decided to withhold its life, waiting for something that never came.
Lira broke the silence first, her voice quiet but clear, as if the very air around them would stifle anything too loud.
"We need to move faster," she said. "The further we stay from the village, the closer we are to the Cult's territory. If they find us..."
Ethan nodded grimly. He didn't need to hear the rest. The Cult of Masks had a reputation, one that even the bravest warriors whispered about in fear. It wasn't just their cruelty. It was their patience. They didn't rush. They planned. And they had the resources to hunt down anyone who stood against them.
"We won't outrun them," he replied, his voice low and steady. "But we can stay ahead. If we reach Lorash before they do, we might have a chance."
Callen shifted uncomfortably but stayed close to Lira, his small frame almost lost in the folds of her cloak. Ethan watched the boy's shadow move across the path, his steps slow and deliberate, as if he feared the ground beneath him would crack open and swallow him whole.
"You've never been to Lorash, have you?" Ethan asked, trying to break the tension.
Callen shook his head, his lips pressed together in an expression of anxiety.
"No," he murmured. "I've heard of it. The monastery. It's... it's supposed to be high up, beyond the mist, in the cliffs."
Lira glanced over her shoulder, her sharp eyes assessing him, her voice softer now than it had been earlier.
"It's dangerous," she said. "The monks there are... not what they seem."
Ethan caught her meaning. The monks of Lorash were known for their knowledge, but also for their secrecy. Some said they were once protectors of a great power, guarding it from the world. Others whispered that they were the ones who had caused the world's slow decay, safeguarding knowledge so potent that it could unravel reality itself. He had never been sure what to believe.
"Everything is dangerous," Ethan muttered. "We don't have a choice. If Vale's records are there, they might be our only chance."
Lira didn't respond. Instead, she quickened her pace, forcing the others to follow. The tension hung thick between them, like the mist that clung to their clothes. As they moved, Ethan couldn't help but notice how the forest around them seemed to grow darker. The trees grew denser, their leaves a deep shade of green that sucked in the light, leaving them in a constant twilight. The wind didn't blow here. There was no scent of earth or pine, just a heavy, stale air that made every breath feel thick and suffocating.
Callen's footsteps grew louder as he struggled to keep up with Lira's long strides. His legs weren't as strong, and he didn't have the experience to move with the ease that came from years of surviving. Ethan slowed his pace just a little, ensuring that Callen didn't fall too far behind. But the boy was stubborn. He refused to ask for help, his pride still intact even in his fragile state.
The sound of a distant crash reached their ears, faint but unmistakable. The hairs on the back of Ethan's neck stood up. He held up a hand, signaling for them to stop.
"Did you hear that?" he asked quietly, eyes scanning the treeline.
Lira's expression remained impassive, but she nodded slightly.
"I did."
Callen froze, his eyes wide with fear. He looked over his shoulder, his gaze darting into the forest, searching for the source of the noise.
"Wh-what was that?" he asked, his voice small, the tremor in his words betraying his calm exterior.
"I don't know," Ethan replied, his voice lower now, careful. "But we need to keep moving. It might be a trap. Stay close."
Lira reached into her pack and pulled out a small vial of red liquid. She uncorked it and held it in front of her nose, taking a quick sniff. Her expression tightened, but she didn't speak. She simply began moving again, faster now, as if the air itself had changed.
Ethan followed without question, motioning for Callen to stay close. They moved through the trees, their steps now a hurried shuffle, the sound of crunching leaves underfoot louder with each passing second. The mist clung tighter to them, as though the very world was trying to drag them back, to hold them here.
Minutes passed in tense silence, and then the distant sound of another crash reached their ears, followed by a deep, guttural growl. The noise was close now, too close for comfort. Ethan's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, though he didn't draw it yet. Whatever it was, they weren't ready for it.
Lira stopped suddenly, her eyes narrowing as she looked ahead. Ethan stopped beside her, his own gaze flicking to where she was staring. There, in the distance, he saw movement. Dark shapes shifting between the trees. They were large—too large to be human.
"They're coming," Lira said softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Ethan tightened his grip on his sword. "How many?"
"Hard to tell. But they're fast," she replied, her voice low.
Before they could react, a shadow darted across the path ahead of them, moving too quickly for the human eye to track. Ethan's heart leapt in his chest. The creature was large, hunched, its body covered in thick, matted fur, and its eyes glowed with an unnatural light. It was a beast of nightmare—a shadow that had no place in the waking world.
Callen gasped, stepping backward, his breath coming in shallow bursts. Lira immediately conjured flames in her hands, the fire crackling as it grew stronger.
"They're hunting us," Ethan muttered.
Lira didn't hesitate. She stepped forward, her flames dancing around her like a shield. Ethan raised his sword and followed, motioning for Callen to stay behind him. The boy's face was pale, his hands shaking as he clutched his cloak tighter around him.
The creatures approached in a blur of motion, their eyes gleaming with malice as they circled the three of them. Their growls reverberated through the forest, a deep, bone-chilling sound that seemed to shake the very ground.
Ethan took a deep breath and charged forward, his sword raised high. He swung it in a wide arc, catching one of the creatures across its side. The beast yelped in pain, but it didn't retreat. Instead, it lashed out with claws as long as daggers, slashing at him. Ethan blocked the strike with his sword, the impact rattling his bones, but he didn't falter. The fight had already begun.
Lira's flames exploded outward, a wave of heat and light that pushed the remaining creatures back. She focused the fire into a concentrated beam, sending it forward with precision. The fire struck one of the creatures square in the chest, and it screeched in agony before collapsing into a heap of smoldering fur.
Callen stood frozen, his eyes wide with fear and awe. He had never seen anything like this before.
"Stay back!" Ethan shouted, his voice commanding. "Stay behind Lira!"
But Callen didn't listen. His body moved before his mind caught up, and he grabbed a jagged piece of stone from the ground, hurling it at the nearest creature.
The stone struck the beast in the side, and it snarled in fury, turning its attention on Callen. Ethan cursed under his breath and rushed forward, slashing at the creature just as it lunged for the boy. His blade met its throat, and the beast collapsed, its body twitching before going still.
"Get out of here!" Ethan shouted, shoving Callen back toward Lira.
The boy stumbled but didn't resist. The creatures were retreating now, their howls echoing into the distance. But they wouldn't be gone for long. And they would be back. That much was certain.
As the last of the creatures disappeared into the trees, Lira exhaled sharply, her flames flickering out. She turned to Callen, her expression cold but not unkind.
"That was too close," she said, her voice flat.
Ethan stood beside her, sword still drawn, eyes scanning the trees for any sign of movement.
"We keep moving," he said, his voice low. "Lorash is still a day away, and we don't know what's waiting for us."
They continued forward, the air around them thick with the scent of blood and the weight of the unknown. The road ahead was dangerous, but they had no choice but to walk it.