The group pressed forward through the dark, twisted forest. The path was narrow, flanked by trees with gnarled branches reaching out like skeletal hands. Above, the sky hung heavy, thick clouds obscuring any light from the stars. Every step felt uncertain, but Gavin, introduced to the group as “Wells,” moved confidently at the front, scanning the horizon with his ever-watchful eyes.
Jonny, walking just behind him, kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, Noctisbane. The flickering torchlight in Cal’s hand was the only real comfort in the oppressive darkness.
“Anything?” Jonny whispered, his voice low enough that only Gavin would hear.
Gavin’s mechanical eyes glowed faintly under his wide-brimmed hat as he replied, “We’re clear. There’s a safer place ahead, no immediate threats.”
Jonny nodded. Trusting Gavin’s judgment had become second nature by now, though the others were still wary of the man—or rather, the machine—they had barely begun to understand.
A few minutes later, the group emerged into a small clearing, sheltered by a rocky outcrop and thick trees. The oppressive forest still loomed around them, but at least here, there was some sense of protection. Jonny could see the relief wash over everyone as they began to settle down. Cal, ever cautious, let out a sigh as he sheathed his sword.
“Looks like we’re safe... for now,” Cal muttered, scanning the perimeter.
Daven, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during their march, flopped onto the ground, stretching his legs. “Finally, a place to breathe.”
But despite the momentary respite, the tension among them had become palpable. The weight of unspoken secrets lingered in the air. Jonny felt it too—a growing pressure that could no longer be ignored.
The fire crackled softly as Jessie—Mackie—who had kept her own mysteries, knelt to tend to it. The flickering flames cast shadows across their faces, highlighting the exhaustion etched into their features. For a while, there was only the sound of wood crackling and the distant rustle of leaves in the wind.
Jonny sat on a nearby log, staring into the fire, his thoughts swirling like the embers rising into the night sky. The events of the past weeks had been relentless, especially traversing after their encounter with Darkborn minions, and for the first time in what felt like forever, they had a moment to rest. But now... now was the time to speak.
He glanced over at Cal, who was busy adjusting his equipment.
Jonny’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword as he weighed his next words carefully. He had been hiding his true identity from the group as well ever since they first met. He had introduced himself as “Kurt,” a name he thought would keep him safe while he figured out who these strangers really were. But now... now that the pieces were starting to fall into place, he knew he couldn’t continue the charade any longer.
“I’ve been hiding something from you all,” Jonny said at last, his voice breaking the silence.
All eyes turned to him. Gavin remained standing a few feet away, silent as ever, his hat casting a shadow over his mechanical features. Jonny swallowed, suddenly unsure of himself. He wasn’t sure how they would react—or how to explain everything.
He stood, pulling Noctisbane from its scabbard. The blade gleamed in the firelight, casting long reflections across the forest floor. It felt heavy in his hands now, not just because of its weight but because of the responsibility it represented.
“This sword...Nox...” Jonny hesitated, running his fingers along the edge. “It belonged to a man named Alex. He died on the eastern border we crossed just several miles earlier, saving the lives of many—including a man named André Barker.”
Jonny paused, his throat tightening. He mentioned André's name particularly after witnessing Cal's emblem during their battle. He could feel their eyes on him, but the words wouldn’t come easily. When he had first taken the sword, he hadn’t truly understood what it meant. Now, as he held it and spoke of Alex, the weight of it all crashed down on him.
“He... he would have been my father if we had met,” Jonny continued, the words feeling strange in his mouth. It felt right calling Alex his father. “I didn’t know him personally, but...”
Jonny let the silence settle. It was hard to admit—hard to explain how a man he had never met could have held such importance in his life. But it was easier this way, to say Alex had been his father in spirit. It made sense, at least for now.
Cal, who had been listening intently, stepped forward. His eyes fell to the sword, then to Jonny’s face. Slowly, he undid his tunic slightly, revealing the same emblem that had caught Jonny’s attention earlier.
“André Barker is my father,” Cal said softly. “My real name is Coral Barker. I’ve been going by ‘Cal’ for reasons of my own.”
Jonny’s breath caught again. Coral Barker. The connection to André suddenly made everything feel more real. He had known there was something familiar about Cal—about the way he carried himself. And now, it all made sense.
Coral gave Jonny a small nod, acknowledging the significance of the sword. Jonny felt a surge of emotion but didn’t know how to respond. Before he could speak again, Daven stood up from his place by the fire, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
“Well, since we’re being honest,” Daven muttered, “I’m Dave Powder. Nothing too exciting about that, but figured it’s time to come clean.”
Jessie, who had been watching quietly, smiled softly. “And I’m Jessie Macy,” she added. “We’re not exactly here on official business from the kingdom. After what happened on the eastern border, the battle you mentioned about Alex... they didn’t want to risk any more lives. But we couldn’t sit around and do nothing.”
Jonny blinked, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. What they were saying—about the losses on the eastern border—aligned perfectly with Alex’s death. The kingdom had suffered too many casualties, and now, it seemed Coral, Dave, and Jessie had gone rogue, taking matters into their own hands.
For the first time in a long while, Jonny felt a strange sense of relief. The truths they had all been hiding were finally out in the open. It was a lot to take in, but at least now they could move forward without pretense.
Finally, Jonny turned to Gavin. The towering figure had remained on the outskirts of the conversation, silent and still. The group’s eyes followed Jonny’s gaze, curiosity piqued.
“And this,” Jonny said, his voice steady but low, “is Gavin. He’s... well, he’s not like us, but he’s been part of my life almost as long as I can remember. You can trust him.”
The fire crackled, and for a moment, no one spoke. Gavin’s hat still obscured most of his face, but his glowing eyes glinted faintly in the dim light. The group’s unease was clear, but Jonny’s firm tone seemed to quell their doubts.
Coral was the first to break the silence. “If you say we can trust him, Jonny... then I’ll take your word for it.”
Jessie nodded, her expression softening. “He did save my life. That’s good enough for me.”
Dave shrugged, though he still looked a little wary. “I've seen what he can do. Long as he’s on our side, I’ve got no complaints.”
With their secrets finally laid bare, a new sense of camaraderie settled over the group. There was no more need for deception, and though the dangers ahead still loomed large, they at least had each other.
“We’ll move at first light,” Coral said, standing and stretching. His voice was resolute, his eyes scanning the darkened horizon. “Wells—Gavin—keep scouting ahead. Let us know if anything’s out there.”
Gavin nodded silently, turning to disappear into the shadows, his steps soundless. Jonny watched him go, grateful for the friend who had walked beside him all these years. The night was far from over, and the road ahead still held many perils. But for now, they had each other—and that was enough.
---
Gavin moved with renewed purpose, his silent steps merging seamlessly with the murmurs of the forest. The trees stretched tall and dense, their gnarled branches weaving a canopy that blocked much of the sunlight. Days had passed since the group began moving once more, and the forest had grown darker, colder, as if the shadows themselves grew longer with each mile. The underbrush offered little resistance, parting softly beneath his mechanical feet. His focus was razor-sharp, honed by hours of scouting ahead, scanning for threats. The weight of his earlier doubts still lingered somewhere deep inside, but he buried it beneath the immediacy of his duty. He was the scout, the sentinel, and the safety of the group rested on his vigilance.
The group was weary. He had observed it in their movements during the last few nights, marked by slower steps and quiet conversations around the campfire. Jonny, ever stubborn, had taken to pacing during breaks, practicing sword drills to mask his growing frustration. Dave tended to Jessie’s ankle, injured crossing a rocky stream days ago. Coral carried the supplies with a steadiness born of resolve, his silence heavier than usual. They were all tired, pushing forward because they had no choice. And Gavin, though he didn’t sleep or tire, felt the burden of their exhaustion in every step he took ahead of them.
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Suddenly, he froze.
His sensors flared, the ambient noise of the forest dimming as a new sensation rippled through his circuits. The air grew dense, weighted by something unseen yet unmistakable. He knelt, pressing one hand to the earth.
There it is again. That scent… that energy.
It was faint but unmistakable, a presence he recognized at once. His scans intensified, analysing the barely perceptible traces of energy lingering in the air from many miles away. Dark energy permeated the atmosphere, hidden—yet thrumming with a menacing pulse.
A lieutenant-class Darkborn. The same energy as Rylkoth.
Gavin pressed forward, determined to verify his findings and uncover more detail. This lieutenant wasn’t alone. In front of it, two—no, three—Darkborn minions, no doubt, following their leader's commands like its shadows. Gavin detected them through the precision of his mechanical eyes. They were far off, but their path was clear. They were coming, slowly but surely, and their trajectory led straight toward the group.
Days away. Maybe more... but they'll catch up eventually.
Gavin’s glowing eyes flicked upward, narrowing as he assessed the terrain ahead. The group had been moving toward higher ground, hoping the cliffs would give them an advantage in avoiding pursuit. But now, the weight of the lieutenant’s presence pressed on him like an inevitable tide. Their pace, already slowed by the strain of days on foot, wasn’t enough.
There’s no safe path. Not at this pace.
The thought pierced through his calculations. They couldn’t continue like this, not blindly marching into whatever lay ahead while a predator awaited them. His mind reeled with tactical options, each discarded as quickly as it formed. His role wasn’t just to protect; it was to lead them away from danger, to ensure they survived.
Jonny. Coral. Dave. Jessie. His group. His responsibility.
Gavin rose abruptly, his decision clear. Without another moment’s hesitation, he turned and sprinted back toward the camp. His cloak whipped behind him as he moved with inhuman speed, weaving through the forest as if it had been built for him. The shadows seemed to stretch and ripple in his wake, the forest blurring as he pushed himself harder.
The group wasn’t just relying on him to see the road ahead. They were relying on him to choose the right one.
---
By the time Gavin reached the group, his expression—though usually calm and unreadable—was edged with urgency. He stepped into the clearing, where Coral sat sharpening his sword, the steady scrape of steel against stone echoing in the air. Jessie sat nearby, resting her hands after casting minor spells to heat up their rations, while Dave leaned against a tree, his eyes half-closed in thought.
Jonny was seated off to the side, methodically cleaning his blade, though his posture was relaxed. That ease shattered the moment Gavin spoke.
“There’s a problem,” Gavin said, his voice sharper than usual. The words were direct, with no room for hesitation. “We need to talk.”
The clearing fell silent immediately, the casual atmosphere dissipating like smoke. All eyes turned toward Gavin, sensing the weight in his words. Jonny’s brow furrowed as he set his sword aside, rising to his feet. Even Dave, whose usual demeanor was one of carefree aloofness, straightened up, his eyes now fixed on Gavin.
“What is it?” Jonny asked, his tone calm but with an edge of concern.
Gavin didn’t waste time. “Lieutenant Darkborn. It’s ahead. Two or three minions are with it. They’re far, but they’re coming.”
The effect of his words was immediate. Coral’s hand froze mid-motion, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword. Jessie’s face paled, her eyes widening at the mention of a lieutenant. Dave cursed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. But it was Jonny’s reaction that Gavin watched most closely.
Jonny glanced at Coral, the weight of the words settling between them. The memory of Helena's death hung heavy in the air. He had already experienced what an injured lieutenant was capable of, and this one would be in peak condition. Jonny’s jaw tightened, his hands unconsciously clenching into fists.
“If it’s a lieutenant...” Coral began, his voice low but steady, “we need to leave. Now. Whatever we were hoping to find... it's not worth an encounter with a lieutenant.”
Jessie nodded, her usual brightness dimmed by fear. “Lieutenants... our kingdom already suffered at the hands of one. And with minions in tow? We’re not ready for that kind of fight, not out here.”
Dave exchanged glances with Jessie, his usual carefree demeanor giving away to concern.
Jonny’s gaze shifted from Gavin to the others, weighing their options. They had ventured deep into Darkborn territory, driven by the hope of discovering ruins that might hold relics to aid in their fight against the Darkborn—along with a haven where they could rest and regroup. But if a lieutenant was tracking them, the ruins wouldn’t be a refuge. It would be a death trap.
“We’ll have to backtrack,” Coral said finally, his voice firm despite the grimness of the situation. “Find another way around.”
Jonny nodded in agreement. “We need to outpace them. If we can put enough distance between us and them, we might stand a chance.”
Jessie swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly as she pulled her cloak tighter around her. “Do you think we’ll have enough time? What if they’re faster than we think?”
Gavin’s sensors flickered, scanning the group, calculating distances, routes, probabilities. He could see the fear in their eyes, the uncertainty, but also the resolve. They trusted him to guide them, to protect them. It wasn’t just about survival anymore. It was about belonging. About showing them that they could rely on him, just as Jonny did.
“We have time,” Gavin said, his voice steady, mechanical yet reassuring. “But we need to move now. I’ll stay ahead, watch for any signs of them catching up.”
The group exchanged glances, but no one argued. There was no time to hesitate.
Jonny nodded as everyone gathered their gear. “Ready?”
As they packed up and prepared to leave, Gavin lingered at the edge of the clearing, his eyes scanning the horizon once more. The lieutenant was coming. He knew it. But this time, it wouldn’t catch them unprepared. He would make sure of that. For Jonny. For the group.
And for himself.
---
The dense forest stretched out in front of them, each tree a shadowy sentinel as the group retraced their steps toward the eastern border. Their pace was quick and urgent, the weight of unseen eyes pressing against them with each hurried step. Jonny kept close to Gavin, the mechanical figure moving with precision and focus. Every shift of Gavin’s head, every silent scan of the forest floor, told Jonny that their time was running out.
Supplies were dwindling—Jessie’s quiet murmurs punctuated the heavy silence, her breath shallow from exhaustion. Her magic reserves were nearly spent, and each step seemed to take more effort than the last. Coral, typically calm and composed, was beginning to show signs of wear. His shoulders sagged slightly under the weight of his armor, his pace slower than it had been just days before.
Jonny clenched the hilt of Noctisbane tightly in his hand. His muscles ached from the hours of walking, his lungs burning as they forced in the cold, damp air. His thoughts, usually steady, began to falter as the weariness set in.
We should be out of here by now.
The further they traveled, the thicker the air seemed to become. Every step forward felt like dragging through sand. Jonny couldn’t shake the feeling that something was slowing them down—not just the Darkborn pursuing them, but the weight of the land itself, pressing against their bodies and minds.
Gavin, sensing Jonny’s strain, glanced back at him, his eyes glowing faintly in the fading light of the day. The sound of rustling leaves and snapping twigs filled the air, but nothing felt natural anymore. The forest felt like it was watching them, waiting for something.
“Keep going,” Gavin urged, his voice a low hum of static. “We’re almost at a safe spot to rest.”
But Jonny wasn’t so sure. Safe spots didn’t exist out here, not when they were being hunted.
---
Night had fallen like a blanket of thick darkness, wrapping around the group as they finally stopped to rest. Their small camp was barely a few yards across, the trees towering over them like skeletal giants. No fire was lit—the risk was too great. Instead, they relied on the dim glow of moonlight filtering through the canopy above.
Jessie slumped against a tree, her body sagging under the weight of exhaustion. Her eyes were dull, her skin pale. She pressed a trembling hand to her forehead as if trying to summon the strength to cast one last spell.
“I’m almost out of magic,” she muttered wearily, her voice barely a whisper. “I can maybe get off a few more spells, but that’s it.”
Her words were met with a tense silence. Coral, standing at the edge of the camp, gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. His knuckles were white, his expression grim as he scanned the surrounding forest for any signs of movement. He exchanged a glance with Jonny, and though neither of them spoke, the weight of what was unspoken hung between them.
They both knew the truth: they weren’t going to make it to the border without a fight.
Dave sat next to Jessie, close enough to offer some comfort. He glanced at her, watching as her eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay awake. She had been the group’s lifeline in more ways than one, her spells keeping them warm, healing their wounds, protecting them from dangers seen and unseen. But now, even she was reaching her limit.
“We can’t keep running forever,” Jonny whispered, more to himself than anyone else.
As if in response, Gavin—who had been crouched near the edge of the camp, his sensors scanning the area—suddenly shot to his feet. His eyes flared, glowing brighter than before as his sensors picked up something alarming.
“They’re here,” he said, his voice sharp and urgent. “Prepare for battle.”
The camp shifted in an instant. Coral stood fully, his sword already drawn and raised in a defensive stance. Jonny grabbed Noctisbane from where it lay beside him, the familiar weight a small comfort in the rising tension. Jessie, though barely able to stand, forced herself upright, her hands trembling as she prepared what little magic she had left. Dave stood in front of her with the determination to protect her at all cost.
“How many?” Cal asked, his voice tight.
“Three minions,” Gavin replied quickly. “They were sent ahead. The lieutenant is still behind them.”
Jonny’s heart pounded in his chest as he took a deep breath, trying to calm the panic rising in his throat.
“We’ll hold them off,” Coral said, his eyes scanning the dark trees for any sign of movement. “Jonny, stay close. Jessie, conserve your energy for healing. Dave, keep her safe. We don’t know how long this fight will last.”
Coral’s grip tightened around his sword, the exhaustion on his face betraying the long days of pursuit and battle. Despite the fatigue in his limbs, his eyes were fierce, determined. He couldn't afford to falter now—not with what was looming behind the minions.
Dave gave Jonny a quick nod as they both stepped into position, ready to intercept. Jessie, standing at the rear, muttered the words of a protection spell, her fingers tracing invisible runes in the air.
Gavin moved toward the front of the group, his mechanical body tensing as his sensors continued to track the approaching minions. Jonny watched him, a strange mixture of awe and anxiety filling his chest. Gavin’s precision, his calmness in the face of danger—it was a stark contrast to the growing fear gnawing at Jonny’s insides.
The silence stretched, each second feeling longer than the last. The forest seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the inevitable clash.
And then, the first Darkborn minion appeared.
---
From the thick underbrush, the twisted figures of the Darkborn minions emerged. Their forms were grotesque, limbs too long and sharp, moving with unnatural speed and agility. One surged forward, an inhuman growl ripping from its throat.
Gavin didn’t hesitate.
In a blur, he moved. His body propelled forward with mechanical precision, closing the distance before the creature could even register its fate. His hands sliced through the air like a blade with a clean, calculated motion, cleaving into the minion’s chest. The blackened ichor that spilled from the wound evaporated almost as quickly as it fell. The Darkborn collapsed at Gavin’s feet.
But the battle was far from over. The two remaining Darkborn didn’t stop, didn’t even slow. They darted past Gavin, their glowing, hate-filled eyes locking onto the rest of the group. Coral, though weary, stepped forward to meet the second, while Jonny and Dave moved to intercept the third.
Coral’s breath was heavy as the Darkborn lunged at him, claws outstretched. He barely managed to raise his sword in time, the force of the blow sending shockwaves through his tired body.
“Come on, then, you bastard,” Coral growled through gritted teeth, struggling to hold his ground.
The creature snarled and snapped, its claws slashing with relentless aggression. Coral parried and struck where he could, but the exhaustion in his movements was becoming harder to hide. Each strike he made was measured, precise—but slower. He knew he needed to conserve strength. The real danger—the lieutenant—was still out there.
On the other side, the third minion barreled toward Jonny and Dave. Jonny raised Noctisbane, feeling its weight in his hands, the faint glow of its eerie light giving him a sense of purpose. Dave, agile and quick, darted to the side, drawing the creature’s attention with swift feints and dodges.
“Now, Jonny!” Dave called, grinning through the tension.
Jonny stepped forward, muscles coiling with the memory of all the practice he had put into this. He swung the sword with power and precision, connecting with the minion’s torso. The blade glowed brighter as it sliced through, and the creature let out a piercing wail. Dark energy sizzled from the point of contact, the very essence of the Darkborn recoiling from the enchanted blade.
“Nice hit!” Dave barked with approval as he moved in for the final blow. His daggers flashed in the dim light, striking at the creature’s exposed flank. In moments, it fell to the ground and laid motionless.
But the relief was short-lived.
Coral’s struggle was growing more desperate. His breaths were labored, and the Darkborn’s attacks came faster, more vicious. Each block rattled his already exhausted limbs, and the creature’s claws began tearing through the air with lethal intent. Coral’s legs wobbled slightly as he dodged a particularly vicious swipe, but with a final burst of strength, he drove his sword forward. The blade pierced deep into the Darkborn’s chest. It snarled, convulsing before crumbling into a heap at his feet.
Panting heavily, Coral leaned on his sword, sweat beading on his forehead. “That’s… one more down,” he muttered between gasps.
For a moment, the battlefield grew eerily quiet. The final wisps of the Darkborn dissolved into the air, leaving only the faint rustle of leaves around them. Jonny quickly surveyed the area, eyes darting for any sign of more threats. Dave did the same, his usual smirk replaced with a more serious expression. Even Jessie, who had kept her distance, looked on edge as she lowered her hands, the spell fading.
Jonny’s voice cut through the silence. “We can’t stay. The lieutenant will be here any moment.”
Gavin, his sensors still scanning the area, nodded sharply. “No time to rest. We move now.”
Without hesitation, they turned and began moving quickly through the forest, their footsteps soft but urgent. Coral limped slightly, his legs threatening to give out, but he pressed on, unwilling to be the one to slow them down.
Jessie whispered to herself, a quiet plea, “Please… no more fights tonight.”
Jonny’s thoughts raced as they moved deeper into the woods, the tension in his chest not easing with distance. We’ve only just scraped through this… But the lieutenant… he’s not like the others.
The distant sound of pursuit echoed faintly behind them, pushing them onward. Each step felt heavier as they moved, the looming presence of the lieutenant casting a shadow over every breath they took.
The true danger had yet to come.