The forest swallowed us again, its dense canopy blocking out the stars. Our group moved in silence, the tension hanging over us like a storm cloud. Every snapped branch and rustling leaf made me flinch, half expecting another pack of Shadespawn—or worse—to lunge out of the shadows.

Kael led the way, his sword still drawn. Jessa was close behind, her dagger at the ready. Farron stuck to my side, his bow strung and an arrow nocked, his easygoing grin replaced by a sharp alertness. Even Orin, who normally exuded an air of quiet confidence, seemed shaken by what we’d left behind.

I felt like the weakest link. The others moved with purpose, their steps deliberate and measured. I stumbled along, my mind replaying the events of the battle at the outpost.

They’d listened to me. Actually listened.

And now they expected me to keep doing it.

After what felt like hours, Kael finally stopped in a small clearing. He turned, his expression unreadable. “We camp here,” he said. “We need rest before we can plan our next move.”

The group spread out without a word, setting up a rudimentary camp. Jessa began gathering wood for a fire, while Farron scouted the perimeter. Orin leaned against a tree, sharpening his knife.

I stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

“You can help,” Jessa said, not looking up from the pile of sticks she was arranging.

“Right,” I said, crouching beside her. “What do you need?”

“Start the fire,” she said, her tone brisk.

“Do I look like I know how to start a fire?” I asked.

She shot me a glare that could have peeled bark off a tree. “Figure it out.”

It took me longer than I’d like to admit, but eventually, I managed to get a flame going. The fire crackled to life, casting flickering shadows across the clearing.

“Not bad, Chosen One,” Farron said as he returned from his patrol. “You might survive the wild yet.”

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered, sitting back and letting the warmth of the fire wash over me.

Kael sat across from me, his expression as grim as ever. “We can’t stay here long,” he said. “The Ecclesion forces will regroup. It’s only a matter of time before they track us.”

“We need a plan,” Jessa said, leaning against a log.

“We need more people,” Orin added, his knife still in hand. “We can’t keep fighting like this.”

Kael nodded. “Agreed. The resistance can’t afford to lose anyone else.”

“What resistance?” I asked, looking around the group. “You keep talking about it like it’s this big movement, but so far, all I’ve seen is us.”

“There are others,” Kael said. “Scattered, disorganized, but they’re out there. We just need to find them.”

“And convince them to join us,” Jessa said, her tone skeptical. “Not exactly easy when we’re being hunted by the Light Eternal.”

“That’s where you come in,” Farron said, nudging me with his elbow.

“Me?” I asked. “Why does everything keep coming back to me?”

“You’re the Chosen One,” he said, smirking. “People will listen to you.”

“Yeah, they’ll listen,” I said, “but that doesn’t mean they’ll follow. Or fight. Or not stab me in the back.”

“Then convince them,” Kael said simply.

I stared at him, the weight of his words settling on my shoulders. Convince them. Right. Easy.

The fire crackled as silence fell over the group. The exhaustion from the day’s events was starting to catch up with me, and I could see it in the others, too. Farron stretched out on his bedroll, his bow resting within arm’s reach. Jessa leaned back against a tree, her dagger twirling idly in her fingers. Orin sat slightly apart from the rest of us, his gaze fixed on the darkness beyond the firelight.

I glanced at Kael, who was still sitting across from me, his sword resting against his knee. “You think this resistance can actually win?” I asked.

Kael’s expression didn’t change. “We have to try.”

“That’s not an answer,” I said.

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “The Light Eternal’s influence has grown unchecked for too long. People are scared, divided, too afraid to fight back. But if we can unite them—if we can show them that they don’t have to face this alone—we might stand a chance.”

“Might,” I repeated.

“It’s better than nothing,” he said.

I didn’t reply. Instead, I stared into the fire, the flickering flames casting long shadows that seemed to dance and twist like they had a life of their own.

At some point, I must have drifted off, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up to Farron’s hand on my shoulder.

“Wake up, Chosen One,” he said softly. “You’ve got watch.”

I blinked blearily at him. “Watch?”

“Your turn to keep an eye out,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay close in case you need help.”

“Fantastic,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes as I sat up.

Farron handed me a dagger and a small lantern. “Just call out if you see anything weird. Or, you know, if you hear anything breathing too close to your face.”

“That’s so reassuring,” I said, shivering slightly as I stepped away from the fire.

The forest at night was a different world. The trees seemed taller, their twisted branches reaching for the sky like skeletal hands. The sounds of the day—the rustle of leaves, the chirping of birds—had been replaced by an eerie stillness.

I moved carefully, keeping the lantern low to avoid drawing attention. The dagger felt awkward in my hand, like a toy that wasn’t meant to be used.

“Alright,” I whispered to myself. “Nothing’s going to kill you. Probably.”

The shadows seemed to shift around me, but every time I turned, there was nothing there. Just darkness and silence.

“Hey, Ash,” Farron’s voice broke the quiet, startling me.

I turned to see him leaning casually against a tree, his bow slung across his back.

“Thought you were staying close,” I said, my heart still racing.

“I am,” he said with a grin. “Just didn’t want to interrupt your inner monologue.”

“Funny.”

He shrugged, his grin fading slightly. “You’re doing better than I expected.”

“That’s not saying much,” I said.

“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But you’re still here. That counts for something.”

I didn’t reply, my gaze drifting back to the trees. The shadows seemed quieter now, less threatening.

“Get some rest,” Farron said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

As I made my way back to the camp, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was waiting for us out there. Something worse than Shadespawn or Ecclesion soldiers.

And whatever it was, I wasn’t sure I was ready for it.

The next morning came far too quickly. Pale sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting muted shadows over the camp. The air was damp and cool, and the forest was alive with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves. For a moment, it almost felt peaceful.

“Up and moving, everyone,” Jessa called, her tone sharp enough to cut through my grogginess. “We’ve got ground to cover.”

I groaned, pulling myself upright. My muscles ached from the previous day’s exertion, and my head still felt foggy from lack of sleep. Across the camp, Kael was already packing up his gear, his movements as efficient as ever. Farron stretched lazily, looking far too well-rested, while Orin worked quietly to extinguish the fire.

“Eat something,” Jessa said, tossing me a small bundle wrapped in cloth. Inside was a piece of dried meat and a few chunks of hard bread.

“Breakfast of champions,” I muttered, tearing into it.

We set out shortly after, moving southward through the forest. The tension from the previous night hadn’t entirely faded, and the group kept to a steady, focused pace. Kael took the lead again, his sword at the ready, while Jessa scouted ahead.

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Farron walked beside me, his bow slung across his back. “So,” he said, his voice light. “You ready for whatever comes next?”

“Not even a little,” I said, glancing around the forest. “You have any idea what’s out there?”

“Not really,” he admitted, his grin returning. “But that’s half the fun, isn’t it?”

I gave him a look. “Your definition of fun needs serious work.”

By midday, we reached the edge of the forest. Beyond the trees, the land opened up into rolling hills dotted with rocky outcroppings and patches of wildflowers. A narrow dirt path wound its way through the landscape, disappearing into the distance.

Kael stopped at the tree line, scanning the horizon. “We’ll follow the path,” he said. “But stay alert. Open ground like this leaves us exposed.”

Jessa nodded, her expression grim. “We’ll need to find cover before nightfall.”

“What’s out there?” I asked, peering across the hills.

“Shadespawn don’t usually roam this far from the forest,” Kael said. “But bandits are another story. And Ecclesion might still be tracking us.”

“Fantastic,” I muttered.

We followed the path in silence, the sun climbing higher in the sky. The open landscape felt unnervingly vast after the dense forest, and every gust of wind made me glance over my shoulder.

Farron must have noticed, because he nudged me with his elbow. “Relax,” he said. “You’ll know trouble when it finds us.”

“That’s not comforting,” I said.

“Wasn’t trying to be,” he replied with a grin.

By late afternoon, the path led us to a small, abandoned farmstead nestled in a shallow valley. The house was little more than a crumbling shell, its roof caved in and its walls weathered by years of neglect. Nearby, a collapsed barn leaned precariously to one side.

Kael stopped, his gaze sweeping the area. “We’ll rest here,” he said. “It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Unless it’s a bandit hideout,” Jessa said, her hand on her dagger.

“Only one way to find out,” Kael replied, stepping toward the house.

The farmstead was empty. Kael and Jessa checked the house and barn while the rest of us waited outside. When they returned, Jessa gave a curt nod. “Clear.”

“Great,” Farron said, dropping his pack onto the ground. “I call the barn.”

“Why the barn?” I asked.

“Better ventilation,” he said with a smirk.

As we settled in for the evening, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we weren’t alone. The farmstead was eerily quiet, the usual sounds of birds and insects noticeably absent.

Kael noticed my unease. “Something wrong?” he asked.

“Doesn’t this place feel... off to you?” I said.

He nodded. “It’s too quiet. Keep your weapon close.”

“Fantastic advice,” I muttered, gripping my dagger tightly.

The first sign of trouble came just after nightfall.

We were gathered around a small fire inside the barn, the flames casting long shadows across the splintered walls. Jessa was sharpening her dagger, her movements slow and deliberate. Farron was lounging against a pile of hay, humming softly to himself. Kael and Orin sat by the fire, their faces lit by the flickering light.

Then we heard it.

A low, guttural growl echoed through the barn, freezing all of us in place.

“What was that?” I whispered, my heart racing.

Kael stood, his sword in hand. “Everyone, stay together.”

The growl came again, louder this time, followed by the sound of something heavy moving outside the barn.

“Shadespawn?” Jessa asked, her voice low.

“Maybe,” Kael said. “Or something worse.”

Farron climbed up onto a pile of hay bales, peering through a gap in the barn’s wooden wall. “I don’t see anything,” he said.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not there,” Orin muttered, drawing his knife.

The growling stopped, replaced by a chilling silence.

Then the barn door exploded inward.

The creature that stepped into the barn was unlike anything I’d ever seen. It was massive, its body a grotesque fusion of fur, muscle, and jagged bone. Its eyes glowed a sickly green, and its maw was lined with rows of serrated teeth.

“Oh, great,” I said, scrambling to my feet. “What fresh nightmare is this?”

“Fellbeast,” Kael said, his voice grim.

The creature let out a deafening roar, and the air seemed to vibrate with its intensity.

“Spread out!” Kael shouted. “Keep it distracted!”

Jessa moved first, darting to the side and slashing at the creature’s flank. Her dagger glanced off its thick hide, barely leaving a mark. The fellbeast turned on her, swiping with a massive claw, but she rolled out of the way just in time.

Farron loosed an arrow, striking the creature in the shoulder. It roared in pain, whipping its head around to face him.

“Bad idea, bad idea!” Farron shouted, scrambling to reload.

Kael charged, his sword glowing faintly as he brought it down on the creature’s back. The blade bit deep, and the fellbeast roared again, thrashing wildly.

I stood frozen, my dagger clutched tightly in my hand.

“Ash!” Jessa shouted. “Do something!”

I took a deep breath, focusing on the shadows pooling around the edges of the barn. The familiar cold sensation washed over me as I willed myself to move.

“Shadow Step,” I muttered.

The world shifted, and I reappeared behind the fellbeast, my dagger glowing with dark energy.

“Here goes nothing,” I said, driving the blade into its exposed flank.

The fellbeast let out a piercing screech, staggering forward. Kael took the opportunity to strike again, his sword flashing in the firelight.

The creature swayed, its movements slowing. Farron loosed another arrow, striking it in the eye.

With one final, guttural growl, the fellbeast collapsed to the ground, its massive body shuddering before going still.

The barn was silent except for the sound of our ragged breathing.

“Is it dead?” I asked, stepping back from the creature’s body.

Jessa crouched beside it, her dagger at the ready. After a moment, she nodded. “It’s dead.”

“Good,” Farron said, slumping against the wall. “Because I’m officially done with today.”

Kael wiped his sword on the hay, his expression grim. “We need to move. If this thing was here, others might not be far behind.”

I stared at the fellbeast’s twisted body, my stomach churning. Whatever this thing was, it was a reminder that our problems were far from over.

“Let’s go,” Jessa said, grabbing her pack. “The longer we stay, the more likely we are to end up like that thing’s dinner.”

No one argued.

We left the barn behind, the night pressing in around us as we made our way back to the road. The faint glow of dawn was just beginning to creep over the horizon, but it did little to ease the knot of fear tightening in my chest.

The fellbeast was dead, but the shadows ahead held far worse.

The road stretched out before us, winding through hills that seemed endless in the early dawn light. The battle with the fellbeast had left us all shaken, though no one was willing to admit it outright. The air was tense, each of us glancing over our shoulders as though expecting the shadows to spit out another nightmare.

Kael was at the front, his sword still drawn and resting lightly against his shoulder. Jessa walked a few paces behind him, her movements brisk and purposeful. Farron stuck close to me, his bow in hand and an arrow nocked as he scanned the horizon. Orin brought up the rear, his eyes narrowed and his knife at the ready.

We were moving as quickly as we could while keeping quiet—a delicate balance that made every step feel like walking on eggshells.

“Alright,” Farron said, breaking the silence. “Anyone want to guess why that lovely beast decided to pay us a visit last night?”

“Because we’re cursed?” I offered.

“Not far off,” Orin muttered from the back.

“It wasn’t random,” Kael said, his voice steady. “Fellbeasts don’t wander aimlessly. Something drew it there.”

“Something like Ecclesion?” Jessa asked, glancing at him.

Kael nodded. “They might have sent it after us. Or it could have been tracking the chaos from the outpost.”

“Great,” I said. “So, either way, it’s our fault.”

Jessa gave me a sharp look. “If you’re going to blame yourself for every monster that tries to kill us, you won’t last long.”

“Noted,” I muttered, falling into silence.

We stopped at a small rise overlooking a valley, the hills rolling away in soft waves. In the distance, I could make out a cluster of buildings huddled together like frightened animals. Smoke rose lazily from a few chimneys, and the faint sound of distant voices drifted on the wind.

“A village?” I asked, squinting at it.

“More of a hamlet,” Farron said. “Barely more than a handful of houses.”

“Do we risk it?” Jessa asked, her tone neutral but wary.

“We need information,” Kael said. “And supplies.”

“And a chance to rest somewhere that isn’t crawling with monsters,” Farron added.

Orin shook his head. “We’re not exactly welcome in most places. If they’re loyal to Ecclesion...”

“They might be,” Kael admitted. “But we don’t have much choice.”

Jessa sighed, clearly displeased but unwilling to argue. “Fine. But we don’t split up. If anything feels off, we leave. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Kael said.

The village was small, as Farron had said—just a cluster of wooden buildings surrounding a muddy central square. Chickens wandered freely, pecking at the ground, and a few villagers went about their business, carrying buckets of water or tending to small gardens.

The moment we stepped into the square, the conversations stopped. Every eye turned to us, the air heavy with suspicion.

“Friendly place,” I muttered.

“Just let me handle it,” Jessa said, stepping forward.

She approached an older man who was standing near a well, his gnarled hands gripping a wooden bucket. His eyes narrowed as she approached, but he didn’t move.

“Good morning,” Jessa said, her tone polite but firm. “We’re travelers, passing through. We don’t mean any harm.”

The man eyed her for a long moment before nodding slowly. “You’ll find no trouble here, so long as you cause none.”

“We appreciate that,” Jessa said. “Do you have an inn? Or a place where we can buy supplies?”

He gestured to one of the buildings near the edge of the square. “The tavern keeps a few rooms for travelers. Talk to Margis. She’ll set you up.”

“Thank you,” Jessa said, inclining her head.

The tavern was a small, weathered building with a sign that read The Hollowed Oak hanging crookedly above the door. Inside, it smelled of stale ale and smoke, and the dim light from the windows cast the room in a hazy gloom.

The woman behind the bar, presumably Margis, looked up as we entered. She was middle-aged, with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor.

“Travelers?” she asked, her voice carrying a faint accent I couldn’t place.

“That’s right,” Jessa said. “We’re looking for rooms and supplies.”

Margis studied us for a moment, her eyes lingering on Kael’s sword and Jessa’s dagger. “You don’t look like merchants,” she said.

“We’re not,” Kael said. “But we can pay.”

Margis raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. “Two rooms upstairs. That’s all I’ve got.”

“Perfect,” Farron said, flashing her a grin.

Margis didn’t return the smile. “Payment up front.”

Once the arrangements were made, we gathered in one of the rooms upstairs. It was small and cramped, with two narrow beds and barely enough floor space for the rest of us to sit.

Kael spread a rough map of the region across one of the beds, tracing a path with his finger. “The next major town is two days from here,” he said. “If we can make it there, we’ll have a better chance of finding allies.”

“And if Ecclesion’s already there?” Jessa asked.

“Then we keep moving,” Kael said.

“Sounds exhausting,” Farron said, leaning against the wall.

“It’s our only option,” Kael replied.

As they continued to discuss our route, I found my attention drifting. The events of the past few days were catching up to me, the weight of everything pressing down on my chest.

“Hey,” Farron said quietly, nudging me with his elbow. “You okay?”

I nodded absently. “Yeah. Just... thinking.”

“Don’t overdo it,” he said with a grin. “Thinking too much is bad for your health.”

“Thanks for the advice,” I said, managing a weak smile.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I lay on the floor of the room, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the faint creaks and groans of the old building.

Kael’s words echoed in my mind: We need allies.

The problem was, I didn’t know who to trust.

The villagers had seemed wary but harmless, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched. And then there was Ecclesion, always lurking at the edges of my thoughts, their soldiers and their monstrous allies hunting us across the land.

I rolled onto my side, closing my eyes and willing myself to sleep.

Somehow, I knew the morning would bring new problems.

It always did.