The path into the abandoned village twisted like a serpent through the dense forest, the trees growing ever gnarled and hostile the deeper they ventured. Kiaran led, his eyes scanning for signs of the place marked on the map. Eira followed closely, face set in determination though the unease in her gaze spoke volumes. The breaths, in this cold air, clouded over, intermingling with a low hum of whispers from afar, clinging to the trees like some haunting lullaby. Each step seemed to carry them further into a living darkness.

By mid-afternoon, they emerged into a clearing where village ruins slumped motionless in silent decay: sagging roofs under moss and ivy, crumbling walls that broke like brittle bones, and the skeletal remains of carts lay about, bleached wood years away from attention. The wind carries the stench of rot curled through empty doorways like some forgotten breath.

Kiaran paused, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "This feels wrong," he said.

Eira nodded her head. Her voice was little more than a murmur. "It's as if the very fabric of time itself took a walk out on this place. Left it suspended between breath and breath." Her eyes swept over the ruins, capturing views of ancient runes etched into stone pillars, edges warped but still sending faint, unsettling emanations off them. "These markings. they're the same like the ones at the temple.".

"More omens of the dark god's power," he muttered, bending low to examine a half-buried symbol in the dirt. But before he could dig much farther, a shadow shifted at the edge of his vision, slithering through the ruins with a sinuous, unbroken grace.

Eira stiffened beside him, her hand crackling with a faint blue aura as she steeled herself to defend. But the form that emerged from the shadows lacked any countenance of a monster—though his presence carried within it a danger that coiled around him like a cloak.

Sable Nyx. His silhouette melted out from the darkened doorway of a crumbling building, his cloak whispering against the ground as he approached. He moved like smoke, as though the shadows themselves bent to his will.

"I had a feeling you'd find your way here, Kiaran Voss," Sable's voice was low, edged with a faint mocking lilt. He glanced toward Eira, a cold amusement glimmering in his eyes. "And you've brought the healer. How quaint."

Eira's glare cut through iron. "What are you playing at, Sable? You speak in riddles, and I have no patience for games."

Sable's smile was a line etched in, like a ghostly scratch. "It's not a game, my dear. It's survival." He turned back to Kiaran, his expression deepening. "You are seeking the refuge, but its mysteries cannot be so easily unwound. There are forces at work here that will gobble you alive if you're not careful.".

Kiaran's jaw locked, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. "And you are volunteering to lead us, as an act of kindness of your heart?"

Sable chuckled, a sound that could be likened to dry leaves rustling through a graveyard. "Kindness has nothing to do with it. But I can take you to the sanctuary. for a price."

"And what is it you want?" Eira's voice was harsh, though a note of suspicion crept in as she studied him.

Sable drew her gaze toward the faint glow emanating from Kiaran's pocket, where the relic pulsed with a soft blue light. "I want to know the truth of that stone you carry. The way it hums. I can hear it from here. It's more than just some trinket, isn't it?

Kiaran winced, felt Eira's gaze pinning him under scrutiny. He could hear the warning echo back from Alaric's words-only a soft whisper in the hollows of his mind-but he cannot stop the feeling of being clamped under the urgency of the situation. Lysander is out there, closing in and time was running out for them.

"If it's answers you want, you'll have to wait," Kiaran said, his voice steeled. "But lead us to the sanctuary, and I'll consider sharing what I know."

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Sable's smile curled like smoke. "A wise choice, Kiaran. Follow me, then—but keep your wits about you. This forest has a way of turning even the strong into prey."

The journey deeper into the forest became oppressive with hushing silence as the air thickened at every step. Twisted trees rose up above their heads in wild clawed arms reaching for the sky, blotting out the light. The path beneath their feet twisted and grew gnarled, uneven, and Kiaran could feel the dark magic creeping into his bones as every breath felt colder, every shadow darker.

Sable advanced, step fluid and unbroken as though the shadows concealed nothing for him. "This land. once hallowed ground, till corruption crept in. The shrine was to have shone as a beacon, and became instead a snare."

Kiaran's brow furrowed; he cast a glance toward the enigmatic guide. "What befell those who first manned it? The villagers—what happened to them?

"They paid the price for trying to keep secrets from their god," Sable said, his voice hard and laced with something darker. "Their spirits linger, twisted into something that barely remembers what it used to be."

Eira's face set. Her hand hovered near her belt, where she kept her herbs and charms. "Is that why you brought us here, Sable? To face more of those twisted creatures?"

Sable's smile was evil in the half-light. "You'll know soon enough."

The reply came not from Sable's lips, but from the shadows themselves, as a chill swept through the forest. Shapes began to stir among the gnarled trees—vague, shifting forms that glowed with a sickly light. Echoes, the spirits of the fallen villagers, their faces hollowed by suffering and madness.

They stepped out of the darkness like phantoms, eyes burning with unnatural hunger, as their sight settled on Kiaran and Eira. The air was abraded now with the keening wail, a sound that clawed at the edges of Kiaran's mind to drown out his thoughts.

"Kiaran, get ready!" Eira shouted, raising her palms as blue energy burst to life between her fingers. She hurled a blast of energy at the nearest Echo, which only postponed the creature's advance-the shape of the thing rippling like water that has been disturbed.

Sable, on the other hand moved with fluid grace that was bordering on inhuman striking out with dark tendrils of shadow that lashed through the Echoes to drive them back but banishing never. His eyes gleamed alive as he watched the spirits twist in pain and his expression one betraying grim satisfaction.

Kiaran struggled to maintain his focus as his sword hacked in sharp, small arcs, but each stroke passed through the bodies of the Echoes, as though they were mist. Their clawed hands raked for him, rubbing along the edges of his cloak; their whispers clawed into his ears.

The relic. it is calling to us. it belongs with us.

The words dug into his mind, and Kiaran stumbled, almost relinquishing the hold on his blade. He clenched his teeth, fighting back the urge to recall the one weak point he had managed to establish: the slight glimmer at the center of their hollowed eyes, a vestige of what they once were.

"Strike the eyes, Eira! That's the only way to get through!" he screamed; his voice raw with the strain of holding back the rising panic.

Eira now understood and adjusted her aim. She shot forth a bolt of energy that pierced the eye of one of the Echoes. The spirit shrieked, its form unraveling into wisps of shadow that dissolved into the air.

Determined, Kiaran pressed on, this time targeting the center of the glow in the eyes of the next Echo. His sword bit deep, and the creature let out a shuddering wail before it too dissolved, its final whispers drifting into the night.

And then, lastly, the last of the Echoes fall to the ground. Kiaran stumbles back, sucking in a breath as he desperately tries to catch his own breath. Eira brushes against a tree trunk, her face whey as she tries to find balance, though their flames burn bright and fueled by defiance.

Sable stood a few paces off, watching as the shadows disappeared into nothingness. "Not bad, for mortals," he said, though his voice held a veiled edge. "But don't grow complacent. This was just a taste of what's waiting within the sanctuary.".Kiaran drew his sword back into its scabbard, muscles aching from the weight of the relic pressing down upon his chest like an iron brand. "You know a lot about what's going to be ahead, Sable. Why not tell us what we're really up against?

Sable's face, though, darkened, and for a moment, the shadow of something almost like regret crossed his face. "The sanctuary was never meant to just hold back the darkness, Kiaran. It was built to amplify it. To draw those who seek power into its grasp, only to leave them hollowed out, like those Echoes you just faced.".

There, it struck Kiaran like a chill wind suddenly. His spine felt it cross, and he looked at Eira, their appearances the same in the look in her eyes. "Then why bring us here?

Sable's smile was a thin, fractured thing, and his eyes gleamed with some inscrutable light. "Because, Kiaran, some paths are meant to be walked-whether you want to or not. The question is: Will you conquer the darkness within, or will it consume you whole?

Kiaran gulped down a breath, weighted by the unmade decisions that were to come. As the forest fell silent again, he couldn't help but feel that shadows were holding their breath, waiting for him to take one wrong step.

And in the distance, the sanctuary loomed: promise and threat written in the same veil of darkness.