The forest had grown wetter as the day went on, the ground transitioning from soft earth to patches of sucking mud. Mist clung to the air, curling around the tree trunks and muffling sound. The only noises were the steady squish of our boots and the occasional croak of frogs echoing from unseen puddles.

“Stay close,” Torrin said, his voice low but firm. He walked ahead of us, cutting a narrow path through the undergrowth with his sword. Glowbug’s faint light illuminated the immediate area, casting long shadows that danced with each movement.

I glanced at Lyra and Evan, both keeping close to me. Lyra’s arm rested protectively on her brother’s shoulder, but her eyes darted nervously through the trees. “How much farther?” she asked, her voice tight.

“Until we find higher ground,” Torrin replied, not breaking his stride. “This place… doesn’t feel right.”

He wasn’t wrong. The frogs’ croaks grew louder as we moved, almost rhythmic, their sound an ominous backdrop to the sour, earthy scent hanging in the air. I bent down and pulled the dagger from my boot, gripping it tightly as I tried not to let my unease show. The forest felt watchful.

“Careful,” I warned, motioning to a patch of shimmering mud ahead. Evan nodded, his wide eyes fixed on the ground, while Lyra offered me a brief, tense smile.

We rounded a bend, and Glowbug’s light flickered briefly, revealing tangled roots slick with mud. Then it dimmed, the little creature letting out a faint hum that made the hair on my neck stand up.

“Glowbug doesn’t like this,” I muttered, glancing at Torrin.

“I don’t disagree,” He raised a hand, signaling us to stop. The croaking had ceased, replaced by an oppressive silence. “Something’s here,” he said quietly.

The ground erupted with a wet squelch. A massive shape surged from a hidden puddle, spraying mud and water in every direction. The creature landed with a thud, its bloated, warty body gleaming with slime. Its yellow eyes fixed on us, unblinking and hungry. A wide mouth full of needle-like teeth gaped open, and its long, sticky tongue flicked out.

Creature: Swampjaw

Danger level: Moderate

Recommendation: Fight.

“Move!” Torrin shouted, but before anyone could react, the creature’s tongue lashed out, wrapping around Evan’s waist. He screamed as it lifted him off the ground, his hands clawing at the slimy appendage.

“Evan!” Lyra’s voice cracked with panic. I lunged forward, slashing at the tongue with my dagger, the blade glinting as it bit into the slimy appendage but failed to sever it. Torrin was already moving, his sword flashing in the dim light. The blade severed the tongue with a wet snap, and Evan dropped to the ground, scrambling toward Lyra on his hands and knees.

The swampjaw let out a deafening croak, its body convulsing as it recoiled. The sound made my head swim, and I stumbled, tightening my grip on the dagger to steady myself.

“Harriet, get them to safety!” Torrin shouted, positioning himself between us and the creature.

But Lyra wasn’t staying out of the fray. She darted to Evan, pulling him behind her before rounding on the swampjaw. Her hands glowed faintly, the light flickering like sparks in the rain. “Leave my brother alone!” she yelled, her voice trembling but fierce. Before I could stop her, she had lunged forward and pressed her sparking palm against the creature’s slimy flank.

The swampjaw convulsed violently, a harsh croak escaping its mouth as the electricity coursed through its body. Its movements became jerky, its grip on the ground loosening.

“Now!” Torrin barked.

I pulled the bow Torrin had given me off my shoulder, and was fumbling for an arrow as the creature’s gaping mouth opened wide in a final, desperate roar. My heart pounded as I drew back the string and aimed. The arrow flew true, striking deep into the back of its throat. The swampjaw reared in pain, its convulsions shaking the ground.

Torrin didn’t waste the moment. He surged forward, his sword glinting as he drove it into the creature’s chest. The swampjaw let out a final, wet croak before collapsing, its massive body sinking into the mud.

YOUR PARTY HAS DEFEATED: SWAMPJAW

You have gained 40 Experience Points.

Basic Archery has improved to Intermediate Archery

For a long moment, no one moved. The swampjaw’s yellow eyes dimmed, its glowing trails fading into the darkness. Torrin sank to one knee, his breath ragged. I turned to Lyra, who was standing frozen, her hands still sparking faintly as Evan clung to her side.

“Is everyone alright?” My voice came out steadier than I felt.

“I’m fine,” Torrin said, shaking his head. “But Evan needs attention before we move. That thing threw him around pretty badly.”

“Alright,” My gaze fixed on Evan, who was clutching his side and wincing. “Glowbug can help. It’s healed Torrin before.”

I reached up to where Glowbug perched safely in my hood. The little creature emerged, its light steady and soothing. It hovered over Evan, its gentle hum filling the air. The bruises on his side faded slightly, and his breathing steadied as Glowbug’s resonance worked.

“Thanks,” Evan said softly, touching his side with wide eyes. Glowbug chirped in response and returned to my shoulder.

I looked at Lyra. “That was brave,” I said. “And dangerous.”

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She laughed shakily, wiping her hands on her muddy trousers. “I didn’t think. I just… did it.”

“You gave us a chance to kill that thing,” Torrin said, his tone gruff but sincere. “Good work. But next time, let’s try not to get that close.”

Evan looked up at her, his face pale but determined. “You were amazing,” he said softly.

Lyra grinned and ruffled his hair. “We’re all amazing.”

Torrin wiped his blade clean on the creature’s slimy hide and gestured for us to move. “Stay sharp. If there’s one thing in these woods, there’s likely more.”

I nodded, helping Evan to his feet while Lyra kept close to his side. The forest’s shadows shifted around us with every step as we pressed on.

The rocky terrain was a welcome change after hours of slogging through the muck. The dense trees thinned, giving way to scattered boulders and uneven patches of grass. A cool breeze swept through the open space, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and the promise of a quiet night.

“We’ll make camp here,” Torrin announced, surveying the area. He pointed to a flat section near a cluster of boulders. “It’s sheltered enough to block some of the wind, and the rocks will help conceal the firelight.”

I nodded, my legs aching with every step. Lyra and Evan glanced around nervously, but their relief was palpable. The journey had been unrelenting, and the chance to rest was a blessing none of us would take for granted.

“I’ll gather firewood,” I offered, setting my pack down beside the boulders. Glowbug chirped softly from my shoulder, its light dim in the fading daylight. I gave the little creature a gentle pat before heading toward the nearest copse of trees.

The forest’s edge was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves in the breeze. I moved carefully, my Sense Magic on high alert. Despite the rocky ground, there were enough fallen branches to gather a decent supply of firewood. As I worked, my thoughts drifted to the group I had found myself with—to Torrin’s steady reliability, Lyra’s fierce determination, and Evan’s quiet resilience. I wondered if they saw the same strength in me that I admired in them.

When I returned to camp with an armful of wood, Lyra was crouched near the fire pit, arranging stones into a circle. Torrin was unpacking a small bundle of food, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon every few seconds. Evan sat cross-legged beside his sister, his head resting against her arm.

“Got enough?” Torrin asked as I dropped the firewood near the pit.

“Should be plenty to get us started,” I replied, brushing dirt from my hands.

Lyra stepped back as I knelt to arrange the branches. Once the wood was stacked, Lyra extended her hand, small sparks dancing between her fingers. With a quiet hum, the sparks caught, igniting the kindling. The fire crackled to life, casting a warm glow over the camp.

“Nice work,” I said, smiling at Lyra.

“Thanks,” she replied, her voice soft. She turned to drape her damp cloak over a low-hanging branch. Evan followed suit, hanging his jacket beside hers. Torrin joined them, creating a makeshift windbreak with his leather coat and my own soggy woollen cloak. The firelight flickered, its glow softened by the fabric barrier.

As we settled around the fire, Torrin passed out portions of bread and dried meat. I shared some of my cheese, and Lyra offered the last of a small pouch of dried fruit she’d had in her pocket. The meal was simple, but it eased the tightness in our stomachs and brought a semblance of normalcy to the evening.

I chewed my bread slowly, my gaze fixed on the flames. The warmth of the fire seeped into my aching muscles, and for a moment, the worries of the road felt distant. But as the silence stretched, the weight of unspoken thoughts grew heavier.

“I used to hate campfires,” I said suddenly, breaking the quiet. I didn’t look up, my eyes still on the flames. “They always reminded me of school camping trips. I… wasn’t very good at making friends.”

Evan tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “Why not?”

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the piece of bread in my hand. “I… didn’t fit in,” I admitted. “I was different. And kids don’t always know how to handle different.”

Lyra frowned, her protective instincts flaring. “They bullied you?”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Nothing too dramatic. Just… mean comments, pranks, being left out. It added up, though. Made it hard to trust people.”

The group fell silent, the crackle of the fire filling the space where my words lingered. I risked a glance at Torrin, expecting indifference or discomfort, but his expression was unreadable. His dark eyes flickered with something I couldn’t place.

“People can be cruel,” Torrin said finally, his voice low. “But they’re not all like that. You’ve found good people now.”

I nodded, my throat tightening. “I know. It’s just… hard to forget. And sometimes, I feel like…” I trailed off, unsure how to explain the strangeness of my past without revealing too much.

“Like you don’t belong?” Torrin guessed.

My gaze snapped to his, startled by the accuracy of his words. “Yeah,” I whispered.

He leaned back, his expression softening. “You’re not alone in that.”

The fire crackled, sending a spray of embers into the night sky. Lyra reached over to squeeze my hand, her grip firm and reassuring. “You belong here,” she said. “With us.”

Evan nodded, his wide eyes filled with quiet determination. “We’re a team now.”

I managed a small smile, my chest loosening. “Thanks. That really does mean a lot to me. I’m glad I’m sitting by this campfire, with you all.”

Torrin didn’t respond, but the faint quirk of his lips spoke volumes. The firelight flickered across their faces as Torrin stood and adjusted the windbreak, ensuring the jackets and cloaks hung securely on the branches. Lyra leaned closer to the flames, tossing another piece of wood onto the fire, while Evan rested his head on her shoulder. Glowbug hummed softly, its light casting a warm glow over us as the dark of twilight deepened. The quiet sounds of the camp blended with the gentle rustle of leaves, and for a while, we simply sat together, letting the fire's warmth keep the night at bay.

The sun had barely risen above the horizon when Torrin stirred us awake. His voice was gruff but laced with a subtle urgency.

“Get moving. We’ve got a long way to go, and the terrain’s only going to get worse.”

I rubbed my neck, wincing as my muscles protested the motion after a restless night on the uneven ground. Evan and Lyra were slower to rise, Evan groaning as he untangled himself from the spare blanket he had been sharing with his sister. Glowbug darted around the camp, its soft hum urging us to get moving.

Breakfast was simple: cold bread and water from our dwindling supply. Torrin ate his portion silently, his eyes scanning the rocky trail ahead. I followed his gaze to the jagged peaks in the distance, their snow-capped tips illuminated by the early morning light. A thin wisp of cloud clung to one of the summits, a silent warning of the climb ahead.

“We’re heading into the mountains?” I asked, breaking the silence.

Torrin nodded. “Partway up. There’s a pass we need to cross to reach Dawnspire. Safer than the lowlands, but we’ll need to stop at a settlement along the way. Gear up properly for the cold.”

Evan looked up at him, pale-faced. “Is it dangerous?”

“Everywhere’s dangerous,” Torrin said bluntly, though his tone softened as he added, “But we’ll manage. The settlement’s not far. We’ll stock up on what we need there.”

I glanced at Lyra as she wrapped Evan with a worn scarf. Her expression was guarded, but her eyes softened when I handed Evan my spare tunic to layer over his own. His jacket was still a little damp, but he put it on anyway over the borrowed tunic. Lyra refused to borrow anything, instead pulling her cloak tighter around herself.

As we set out, the trail grew steadily rockier, the loam of the forest floor giving way to uneven stones and gravel. My boots slipped more than once, and I cursed under my breath as I struggled to keep up with Torrin’s sure-footed pace. The incline was gradual at first, but the air grew thinner, and the landscape loomed more imposing. Jagged cliffs rose on either side, the path narrowing into a precarious strip winding upward.