The forest around them thickened, shadows twisting into shapes that seemed almost alive. Amara moved silently, each step taking her further from the safety of the village and deeper into the cursed night. Kaelan’s presence was steady just behind her, his steps quiet but deliberate, as if he understood the need for silence as well as she did.

The warmth grew stronger with every step, a sickly heat that felt out of place in the cool air. Amara tightened her grip on her staff, her senses heightened, alert to every flicker of movement. The curse was close; she could feel it in the air, a tension that prickled against her skin.

“Hold up,” she whispered, raising a hand.

Kaelan stopped beside her, his eyes following her gaze to a faint, eerie glow that pulsed through the trees just ahead. The light was the color of embers, deep and unnatural, casting a dim orange glow over the forest floor.

“What is that?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Stay close,” she replied, not breaking her gaze from the glow.

She stepped forward, feeling the weight of his presence at her side. As they reached a small clearing, the source of the light came into view.

There, at the center, stood a figure. It had a human shape, but it was wrong, its edges blurred as if barely held together by the ember-like energy that pulsed from within. Its hollow, ember-lit eyes fixed on them, unblinking.

Kaelan’s hand went to the hilt of his sword, his jaw tense. “Is that…?”

“The curse,” Amara murmured, her voice grim. “Or something left behind by it. An Ember remnant.”

The creature took a step forward, the heat radiating from it intensifying. Amara lifted her staff, tracing a ward in the air with quick, practiced movements. Shadows coiled around her hand, forming a barrier between them and the creature. The ward flared to life, casting a faint glow across the clearing.

For a brief moment, the remnant halted, its gaze flickering as if considering her magic. Then, with a low, unsettling hiss, it continued forward, pushing against the ward with a force that sent a shiver down her spine.

Kaelan shifted beside her, his grip on his sword tightening. “If that thing breaks through, what’s the plan?”

“We hold it back,” Amara replied, though she knew it wouldn’t be easy. She’d seen remnants before, but this one was stronger, more persistent. “Whatever you do, don’t let it touch you. The curse… it spreads.”

“Good to know,” he muttered, stepping closer, his stance poised, ready.

The remnant pressed harder against the barrier, and Amara could feel the strain, the warmth bleeding through her ward. Her fingers tightened around her staff, her mind racing. This creature wasn’t like the others she’d encountered—it was aggressive, relentless, and powerful. It was as if it recognized her, as if it knew she was a Veilwalker and was drawn to her magic.

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She took a steadying breath, focusing on the ward, reinforcing the shadows. But the remnant was relentless, its hollow gaze fixed on her with a terrifying intensity.

“We need to weaken it,” she said, her voice barely steady. “If I can hold it here, can you—”

Before she could finish, Kaelan stepped forward, his sword flashing in the dim light. He swung with precision, aiming for the remnant’s core. The blade struck true, passing through the creature with a faint sizzle, as if cutting through smoke.

The remnant faltered, its form flickering, the embers within dimming momentarily. But it didn’t fall. Instead, it turned its gaze on Kaelan, a hiss escaping its twisted form.

“Careful,” Amara warned, tightening her grip on her staff. “It won’t go down easily.”

He gave her a quick nod, stepping back to her side as the creature recovered, its form solidifying once more. She could see the faint burn marks on his blade, a residue left behind by the curse. This was no ordinary creature—it was a manifestation of the curse itself, a fragment of the Ember that had seeped into their world.

She adjusted her stance, focusing her magic, her voice low as she murmured an incantation. The shadows around her coiled tighter, strengthening the barrier, pushing the remnant back.

But the creature only hissed louder, pressing against the ward with renewed force. Amara could feel her magic weakening, the strain of holding it back taking its toll.

“Any other bright ideas?” Kaelan asked, his tone dry but laced with tension.

Amara hesitated, her mind racing. She knew the creature was drawn to the Veil’s magic, to her presence as a Veilwalker. But maybe, if she could push it back, lead it toward the boundary, it would be forced to retreat.

“Follow me,” she said, stepping back, careful to keep the ward between them and the creature.

Kaelan followed, his steps in sync with hers, his gaze flicking between her and the remnant. “What’s the plan?”

“I’m leading it to the Veil’s edge. If it’s tied to the curse, it might be forced back if it crosses the boundary.”

He raised an eyebrow, though he didn’t question her logic. Instead, he moved with her, his sword raised, ready for another strike if needed.

They moved in tandem, each step calculated, each breath measured. The remnant followed, its movements slow but deliberate, its hollow gaze fixed on them with unwavering focus.

As they neared the edge of the forest, Amara could feel the Veil’s presence, a faint pulse at the edge of her awareness. She concentrated, drawing on that energy, letting it flow through her, strengthening the barrier.

The remnant hesitated, its form flickering as they drew closer to the boundary. It hissed, as if sensing the Veil’s power, but it didn’t retreat.

Amara tightened her grip, channeling the last of her strength into the ward, forcing it forward, pressing the creature back.

With a final, shuddering hiss, the remnant dissolved, its ember-like form fading into wisps of smoke that dissipated into the night.

Amara lowered her staff, her shoulders slumping with exhaustion. She could feel the strain of the encounter in every bone, the residual warmth of the curse lingering in her veins.

Kaelan let out a breath, his gaze fixed on the spot where the creature had vanished. “Is it gone?”

“For now,” she replied, her voice soft. “But it won’t be the last.”

He studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You’ve fought these things before?”

“Enough to know they’re dangerous,” she replied, her gaze distant. “The curse is… alive. It learns, it adapts. And it’s getting stronger.”

Kaelan’s expression darkened, his grip on his sword tightening. “Then I suppose it’s a good thing we’re not alone in this.”

Amara glanced at him, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. She hadn’t expected that—a show of solidarity from someone who barely knew her. But there was something in his gaze, a quiet determination, a resilience that matched her own.

She nodded, turning her gaze back to the forest. The night was quiet again, the shadows deep and still. But she knew that silence wouldn’t last. The curse was spreading, reaching into their world, leaving fragments of itself behind.

And it was only a matter of time before it returned.