Sis adjusted the straps of her pack as she surveyed the clearing, her mind heavy with thoughts she had carefully kept at bay during the journey. Now, standing in this strange oasis carved from the void, she allowed herself a moment to reflect.
The journey thus far had been a grueling one, both physically and emotionally. Her thoughts drifted back to the fall of their previous citadel—Nightsbane. Even now, the memory felt raw, a vivid scar she couldn’t shake. The warnings had come too late. One moment, the citadel had been alive with the hum of daily life, and the next, the darkness had crept in, silent and unrelenting. It had swallowed the outskirts first, cutting off escape routes and forcing them inward until the city itself became a death trap.
She had been one of the lucky ones—or so people said. Lucky to have escaped the chaos, to have survived the screaming, the shadows, the way the laughter had echoed as the darkness devoured everything. But she didn’t feel lucky. Not when she remembered the faces of friends she had left behind, the people she hadn’t been able to save.
Now, here she was again, walking through the same darkness that had consumed her home, Hoping to save yet another group of weary souls. The weight of that responsibility bore down on her like a leaden chain, one she couldn’t shrug off no matter how much she wanted to.
She glanced around the clearing, noting the tension in everyone’s faces, the exhaustion in their movements. The darkness had a way of wearing people down, even those who thought they were prepared for it. And she hated it—hated every moment of this cursed journey through a void that seemed to sap the life out of everything it touched.
The rules were simple, yes, but simplicity didn’t make them easy. The smallest misstep could mean the difference between life and death, and the darkness thrived on mistakes. She’d seen it happen before. She’d watched people vanish into the void, lured away by illusions or fear, their screams swallowed by the silence.
And now it had happened again. They had lost people—good people—despite all their precautions. She clenched her fists, her jaw tightening as she replayed the moment the two had stepped off the path, their forms disappearing into the shadows. She had wanted to shout, to run after them, to pull them back, but she knew better. The rules didn’t leave room for heroics.
Joran had handled it well, as he always did. He was steady, unshakable, a pillar of calm in the face of chaos. Sis admired that about him, even if she didn’t always agree with his decisions. She had learned to trust his leadership, even when it grated against her own instincts.
But that didn’t mean she wasn’t angry—angry at the darkness, at the fragility of the path they followed, at the fact that they had no choice but to keep moving forward, knowing full well they might lose more people before they reached Hollowcrest.
She ran a hand through her hair, her fingers trembling slightly. “We’re not losing anyone else,” she muttered under her breath, more to herself than anyone else. But saying it aloud made her feel a little stronger, a little more determined to keep that promise.
Sis tightened her grip on the straps of her pack as she stepped to the edge of the clearing, the faint glow of the path stretching back into the darkness. The volunteers had gathered behind her, their faces a mix of determination and apprehension. They all knew the risks—venturing back into the void after losing people was dangerous, but leaving anyone behind wasn’t an option she was willing to entertain.
She turned to address the group. “Alright, you all know the rules. Stay on the path. Don’t wander, no matter what you see or hear. If you spot something, call out immediately, and we’ll decide how to proceed together. Understood?”
A chorus of quiet affirmations followed, and she nodded. “Good. Let’s move.”
Joran had stayed behind to manage the larger group, leaving Sis to lead the search. It wasn’t the first time she’d taken on this role, but the weight of it never got easier. As they stepped back into the oppressive darkness, the faint glow of the clearing behind them began to fade, replaced by the unrelenting void.
The path felt different on the return journey, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. The flickering light beneath their feet seemed weaker, as though it had been drained by their passage. The silence was heavier too, broken only by the soft shuffle of their footsteps and the occasional quiet word exchanged between the searchers.
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Sis kept her eyes on the path, scanning for any signs of those who had been lost. A discarded pack, a stray piece of clothing—anything that might tell them where to look. But so far, the path remained empty, its faint light uninterrupted.
“How far do you think they could’ve gone?” one of the volunteers asked, his voice low.
Sis glanced back at him, her expression grim. “If they left the path, they wouldn’t have gotten far. The darkness doesn’t give people second chances.”
The man swallowed hard, falling silent as the weight of her words settled over the group.
After what felt like hours of walking, Sis spotted something ahead—a faint disturbance in the light of the path. She held up a hand, signaling the group to stop, and crouched to examine it. A faint scuff mark marred the glow, as though someone had stumbled or dragged their foot along the surface.
“This is where it happened,” she said quietly, her gaze sweeping the edges of the path. She could almost picture it—the moment the beady-eyed creatures had appeared, their false trail luring the two away.
The darkness at the edges seemed thicker here, almost alive. Sis’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the void, searching for any sign of movement. “Spread out along the path,” she instructed the group. “But don’t step off. Look for anything—footprints, belongings, anything they might have left behind.”
The volunteers obeyed, moving carefully along the path while keeping within sight of each other. Sis remained where she was, her eyes fixed on the shadows beyond the light.
“Over here!” one of the volunteers called out, his voice sharp with urgency.
Sis hurried to his side, where he was pointing to a faint glimmer in the darkness just off the path. It was small—barely noticeable—but unmistakable. A scrap of fabric, caught on the jagged edge of a rock.
She frowned, her stomach knotting. “They came this way.”
Another volunteer shifted nervously. “If they went that far into the dark…”
“We don’t know what happened yet,” Sis cut in, her tone firm. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”
Before she could say more, a faint sound drifted through the void—a voice, soft and distant. It was impossible to make out the words, but the tone was pleading, almost desperate.
“Did you hear that?” one of the volunteers whispered.
Sis nodded, her jaw tightening. “Stay together. Follow me.”
They moved cautiously toward the sound, their steps slow and deliberate. The voices grew louder, though they were distorted, as if filtered through water. It wasn’t until they rounded a slight curve in the path that Sis saw them.
A figure sat slumped at the edge of the path, their shoulders hunched and their head in their hands. Sis’s breath caught as she recognized one of the lost travelers—a young man who had veered off during the earlier incident.
She approached carefully, signaling for the others to hang back. “It’s me,” she said softly, keeping her tone calm. “You’re safe now.”
The man looked up, his face pale and streaked with tears. “I… I thought it was the path,” he stammered. “It looked so real.”
“It’s alright,” Sis said, crouching beside him. “You’re back now. You’re safe.”
She helped him to his feet, keeping a firm grip on his arm as she guided him back to the group. The volunteers murmured reassurances, though the tension in the air didn’t dissipate.
“What about the other one?” the young man asked, his voice trembling. “There were two of us.”
Sis’s stomach sank. She looked at the group, then back at the darkness ahead. “We’ll find them,” she said firmly, though doubt gnawed at the edges of her resolve.
They continued their search, but the atmosphere grew heavier with each step. The darkness seemed closer now, the faint light of the path barely holding it at bay. Sis’s eyes darted to the edges, searching for any sign of the second lost traveler.
That was when she saw them.
The beady-eyed creatures blinked into existence, their small, white forms hovering just beyond the light. They clustered together, creating the illusion of another trail veering off into the void.
“Eyes,” one of the volunteers whispered, his voice tight with fear.
Sis held up a hand, her voice sharp. “Don’t look. Stay on the path.”
The creatures blinked in unison, their movements slow and deliberate. Sis could feel their gaze, cold and unrelenting, pressing against her resolve. She forced herself to look away, keeping her focus on the light beneath her feet.
“It’s a trick,” she said, her tone firm. “Ignore it.”
But the eyes didn’t fade. They lingered, as if waiting for someone to make a mistake. Sis’s grip tightened on the young man’s arm as she forced the group to keep moving.
At last, they heard another sound—a faint, rasping breath. Sis turned sharply, her eyes scanning the path ahead. There, lying sprawled at the edge of the light, was the second traveler.
She rushed to their side, kneeling to check for signs of life. The woman’s eyes fluttered open, her face pale but conscious. “I… I didn’t mean to leave,” she whispered. “I thought…”
“Don’t talk,” Sis said gently. “You’re safe now.”
She signaled for the volunteers to help lift the woman, who was too weak to walk. With both survivors accounted for, the group began their careful return to the midpoint, the oppressive darkness pressing closer with every step.
When the faint glow of the clearing came into view, Sis felt a weight lift from her chest. They had done it—they had brought them back. The rest of the group rushed to meet them, their relief palpable as they welcomed the survivors.
Sis let out a long breath as Joran approached, his expression unreadable. “Good work,” he said simply, his voice low. “We’ll talk more later.”
She nodded, exhaustion settling over her like a heavy blanket. As the group tended to the survivors, Sis stepped back, her eyes lingering on the path behind them.
The darkness was still there, waiting.