The cool morning air clung to the thick underbrush as Edrik, Kara, and Lyra moved silently through the forest. Their path wound through dense thickets and towering trees, and every sound—the crunch of leaves underfoot, the distant call of birds—felt amplified in the eerie silence that followed them. Despite the calm surroundings, Edrik’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind already racing toward the inevitable clash with Alaric.

He was out there—somewhere. They hadn’t felt his presence since the collapse of the Black Citadel, but Edrik knew better than to believe Alaric had been truly defeated. No. There was no finality in the destruction of the citadel. It was merely a setback for the dark sorcerer. Alaric would return. And when he did, he would be more powerful, more dangerous than ever.

Kara walked beside him, her expression hardened but the faintest tremor of fear still visible in her eyes. Though she had been freed from Alaric’s clutches, the scars left by the ordeal ran deep. The memories of her captivity haunted her, and even now, Edrik could see the weight of it bearing down on her shoulders. She had always been strong, but there were limits to what anyone could endure.

“Kara,” Edrik said, breaking the silence, his voice soft but firm. “We’re going to get through this. I promise.”

Kara glanced up at him, her green eyes full of determination, but the fear still lingered there. She nodded, her lips pressed into a tight line. “I know. I just… I don’t want to be the weak one. Not anymore.”

“You’re not weak,” Lyra said from behind them, her voice gentle but resolute. “What you went through… no one could come out of that unscathed. But you’re still standing, Kara. That’s strength.”

Kara looked away, the tension in her body visibly relaxing, if only for a moment. “Thanks.”

Edrik’s eyes drifted forward, his gaze fixed on the narrow path ahead. They were nearing the edge of the Dark Forest, the dense trees beginning to thin, revealing the vast expanse of the plains beyond. Beyond those plains, to the south, lay their destination—the ancient city of Veldros. It was a city said to be older than the kingdoms themselves, a place where ancient magic still pulsed in the bones of the earth.

Lyra had suggested they head there after the fall of the Black Citadel. Veldros was known to house a vast library of magical knowledge, tomes and scrolls that dated back to the earliest days of the old magic. If they were going to face Alaric again, they needed to be prepared. And more than that—they needed to find a way to destroy him for good.

As they emerged from the tree line, the open plains stretched out before them, a sea of tall grass swaying gently in the breeze. The distant peaks of the Veldros Mountains loomed on the horizon, jagged and imposing, their snow-capped summits gleaming in the midday sun.

“We’ll make camp here for the night,” Edrik said, glancing up at the sky. “We’ll reach the city by tomorrow evening.”

Kara nodded, already scanning the area for a suitable spot to set up camp. Lyra, too, moved with purpose, her eyes sharp and vigilant. Though they hadn’t encountered any immediate threats since the fall of the citadel, the tension in the air remained, a constant reminder of the darkness that still lingered.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the plains, they gathered around a small fire, the warmth of the flames cutting through the evening chill. The crackle of burning wood was the only sound for a time as they ate in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

But Edrik’s mind wouldn’t rest. The feeling of something looming on the horizon gnawed at him, a tension that had grown ever since they had left the sanctuary. He couldn’t explain it, but something about the stillness of the night felt wrong.

Lyra’s eyes flicked up from the fire, her brow furrowing. “Do you feel that?”

Edrik glanced at her, his hand instinctively moving to his sword. “Feel what?”

“The air… it’s wrong,” she murmured, her gaze drifting toward the darkened horizon. “There’s magic—old, powerful magic—stirring.”

Edrik’s muscles tensed, his fingers wrapping around the hilt of his blade. He had come to trust Lyra’s instincts about these things. “How close?”

“Close,” Lyra said softly, her eyes narrowing. “Too close.”

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Kara, already on edge, shot to her feet, her staff gripped tightly in her hands. “Is it Alaric?”

Lyra shook her head. “I don’t think so… but it’s dark. Whatever it is, it’s coming for us.”

Suddenly, the air around them seemed to grow colder, the wind picking up, carrying with it a low, eerie howl. The flames of the campfire flickered wildly, casting erratic shadows across the grass, and the earth beneath them seemed to tremble ever so slightly.

From the distance, a shadow moved—a massive shape that seemed to emerge from the darkness itself, towering and grotesque. It moved with unnatural speed, closing the gap between them with terrifying swiftness.

“Get ready!” Edrik shouted, drawing his sword as the ground trembled beneath his feet.

Lyra raised her hands, her blue magic flaring to life as she summoned a protective barrier around them, the light of her magic pushing back the encroaching shadows. Kara moved beside her brother, her eyes wide but focused, the green energy of her staff crackling as she prepared for the fight.

The creature emerged fully into view, its form monstrous and twisted, a hulking figure that towered above them. Its body was made of dark, writhing tendrils, like a mass of shadows given life, and its eyes—glowing orbs of crimson—fixed on them with a predatory gaze.

“What in the hells is that?” Kara breathed, her voice filled with both awe and terror.

“A shadow wraith,” Lyra said grimly, her eyes narrowing as she analyzed the creature. “A being of pure darkness, summoned by ancient magic. They’re nearly impossible to kill.”

Edrik’s grip tightened on his sword, his jaw clenched. “Nearly impossible?”

Lyra nodded, her magic flaring brighter as the wraith closed in. “There’s a weak point at its core. But we have to get through its defenses first.”

The wraith let out a deafening roar, the sound reverberating through the ground as it lunged toward them, its massive claws swiping through the air with terrifying speed. Edrik barely had time to react, throwing himself to the side as the wraith’s claws slammed into the earth where he had just stood, sending dirt and rocks flying.

Kara darted forward, her staff glowing with green energy as she sent a blast of magic toward the wraith, but the creature barely flinched, its body absorbing the attack as though it were nothing.

“It’s too strong!” Kara shouted, frustration lacing her voice as she backed away, her staff raised defensively.

“Focus on its core!” Lyra shouted, her hands moving in a blur as she summoned a wave of blue light, the magic arcing toward the wraith with a crackling sound. The light struck the creature in its chest, and for a moment, the wraith recoiled, its form flickering as the magic disrupted its body.

Edrik seized the opportunity, charging toward the creature with his sword raised high. He aimed for the wraith’s chest, where Lyra’s magic had briefly exposed the core, but the wraith moved faster than he had anticipated, its claws swiping at him with incredible speed.

He barely managed to raise his sword in time to block the blow, the force of the impact sending a jarring shockwave through his arms. Edrik gritted his teeth, pushing back against the creature’s overwhelming strength, but it was like trying to fight a storm—relentless, untouchable.

“Edrik, get back!” Kara screamed, her voice filled with desperation.

Edrik barely had time to react before a massive tendril of shadow lashed out from the wraith’s body, wrapping around his leg and pulling him off his feet. He hit the ground hard, his sword clattering out of his hand as the wraith began to drag him across the ground, its glowing eyes fixed on him with deadly intent.

Kara’s heart lurched in her chest as she saw her brother being pulled toward the creature’s maw. Without thinking, she raised her staff, her magic surging through her in a wild burst of energy. She screamed Edrik’s name as she unleashed a torrent of green light, the magic slamming into the wraith’s tendril with explosive force.

The tendril shattered, releasing Edrik as the wraith let out a screech of pain, its form flickering and distorting. Lyra seized the moment, summoning another wave of magic that struck the wraith in its core, causing it to stagger back.

“Now, Edrik!” Lyra shouted, her voice filled with urgency.

Edrik scrambled to his feet, grabbing his sword and charging toward the creature with a roar of fury. The wraith, still disoriented from the combined magical assault, barely had time to react as Edrik drove his blade into its chest, piercing the core with all the strength he could muster.

The wraith let out a final, deafening screech as its body convulsed, the shadows that made up its form disintegrating into the air. Its crimson eyes flickered once, then dimmed, and with a sound like shattering glass, the wraith collapsed into a pile of dust and smoke.

Edrik stood over the remains of the creature, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he slowly lowered his sword. His body ached from the fight, but there was a strange sense of satisfaction that came with the creature’s destruction.

Kara rushed to his side, her face pale but her eyes bright with relief. “Are you alright?”

Edrik nodded, still catching his breath. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

Lyra joined them, her expression grave. “That was no ordinary wraith. Someone summoned that creature… and it was sent here for us.”

Edrik’s eyes darkened, his mind immediately jumping to the one person who could be responsible. “Alaric.”

Lyra nodded. “It’s possible. But if Alaric’s behind this, then he’s more powerful than we realized. We need to reach Veldros—there may be answers there.”

Kara looked between them, her face pale but determined. “Then we move. Now.”

Without another word, they extinguished the campfire and began their journey again, the weight of the battle heavy on their shoulders. As they moved through the darkening plains, the distant peaks of Veldros loomed ahead, shrouded in shadow and mystery. The path ahead was dangerous, uncertain, but one thing was clear: Alaric was still out there, and the next time they faced him, it would be a battle unlike any they had ever fought before.