The journey through the forests of Balari to Sir’ala was supposed to take two days. The path, though beautiful with its towering trees and dappled sunlight, was laden with a tension that none of them could shake.

Umbriel, Martel, and Carter felt a presence following them in the woods, something dark and foreboding that shadowed their every step.

The chirping of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the evening wind, sounds that would normally bring comfort, now seemed ominous, as if the very forest was conspiring against them.

When night fell, they set up camp in the woods, a fire crackling at the center to ward off the creeping cold. The flames danced, casting flickering shadows that twisted and stretched along the forest floor. Despite the warmth, none of them could fully relax. The feeling of being watched lingered, making them jump at every snapping twig and rustling leaf.

“It's awkward right? The feeling of being watched…”

Said Umbriel.

“Oh so you felt it too?” Added Martel. Carter nodded to both as he also felt the presence.

Umbriel, restless and uneasy, pulled out the "Septima Chao Intus," the ancient and forbidden book that had become both a guide and a burden on her journey.

She opened to the page where she was the last time in Balari with a mix of anticipation and dread, her fingers trembling as she traced the intricate lettering. The book had revealed so much already—the existence of the Chaos Devices, powerful artifacts that could shape the very fate of the world. But tonight, the book unveiled a bit more: there were seven devices in total, each with a unique and dangerous power. However, it only named two—the Dagger of Wrath and the Boots of Pride. As she attempted to decipher more, the words began to blur, shifting again into indecipherable runes that seemed to mock her efforts.

Frustration welled up within her as she stared at the cryptic symbols. It was as if the book was teasing her, offering glimpses of truth only to snatch them away. The knowledge she sought was just out of reach, and yet the pull of the book was undeniable. She felt intoxicated by its presence, as though the pages themselves were drawing her deeper into their mysterious grip.

Martel, ever vigilant, noticed the change in her demeanor. He could see the way her eyes darkened, the way her breathing quickened. Gently, he reached out and took the book from her hands.

“Umbriel, you need to stop,” he said firmly, concerned about lacing his voice.

“This book is affecting you in ways we don’t fully understand.”

Umbriel blinked, as if waking from a trance, and slowly released her hold on the book. A part of her resented Martel for interrupting her, but another part of her knew he was right. The book’s power was overwhelming, and she could feel it seeping into her very being, altering her thoughts and emotions. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind, when suddenly a loud noise shattered the silence of the night.

Carter, who had been standing guard at the edge of the camp, was gone. His absence was like a gaping wound in the fabric of their small group, and panic seized Umbriel’s heart. She scanned the darkened woods, her eyes straining to catch any sign of movement, but there was nothing—just an eerie stillness that set her nerves on edge.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a faint, dark trail in the air, almost like a wisp of smoke or a shadow left behind by something moving too quickly to be seen. Without a second thought, she followed it, her heart pounding in her chest. Martel was right behind her, his hand tightly gripping his sword as he prepared for whatever lay ahead.

The trail led them to a small clearing bathed in the pale light of the moon. The air was thick with tension, the silence oppressive as if the world itself was holding its breath. Umbriel and Martel called out for Carter, their voices echoing in the stillness, but there was no response. Umbriel’s senses were on high alert—she could feel Carter’s presence, but it was as if he was being concealed by some dark force that kept him just out of reach.

Suddenly, Martel was struck by an invisible force, the blow knocking him to the ground with a sickening thud. Umbriel gasped, her heart lurching in her chest as she watched Martel crumple to the forest floor, unconscious. Before she could react, a figure emerged from the shadows—Uperios, his cold eyes glinting with malice. He held Carter by the throat, his fingers digging into Carter’s skin, and in his other hand, he wielded a knife that seemed to gleam with an unnatural sharpness.

“Umbra,” Uperios hissed, his voice dripping with venom as he addressed Umbriel. The name sent a chill down her spine—she had heard it before from him, but why? Why did it feel so familiar and yet so alien?

“Give me the chaos device you possess, and perhaps I’ll let your friend live.” Said Uperios.

Umbriel’s mind raced, her thoughts a chaotic swirl as she tried to comprehend the situation. Why was Uperios calling her Umbra? And what chaos device was he talking about? She didn’t have any of them—at least, none that she was aware of.

“I don’t have any chaos device,” she protested, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to stay calm.

“I don’t even know what they are, or where to find them.”

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But as she spoke, her gaze fell on Uperios’s boots—dark, worn, and emitting a strange, smoky aura that she noticed before. A realization struck her with the force of a lightning bolt. The Boots of Pride—one of the Chaos Objects mentioned in the book. It had to be them.

“It’s you!” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re the one with a chaos device. Your boots—they’re one of the seven.”

Uperios’s expression shifted from smug confidence to surprise, then back to a sneer. “I had no idea there were seven,” he said, a mocking edge to his voice. “But thank you for the information. Unfortunately for your friend, this means his end.”

He tightened his grip on Carter and brought the knife closer to his throat, but before he could make the fatal cut, something extraordinary happened. The knife, which had been poised to slice through Carter’s flesh, suddenly transformed into a brittle branch, snapping in Uperios’s hand. Uperios recoiled in shock, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“So, this is your true power, Umbra,” he muttered, his voice tinged with fear. “Impressive, but now you’ll see mine.”

Without warning, Uperios let Carter off and vanished, his form dissolving into thin air as if he had never been there at all. Umbriel’s heart pounded in her chest as she realized that Uperios had become invisible, just as he had done to knock out Martel. Carter, now free from Uperios’s grasp, stumbled forward, dazed but alive.

Umbriel’s mind raced as she tried to piece together what was happening. The Boots of Pride—they had to be the source of Uperios’s invisibility. She scanned the clearing, searching for any sign of him, any disturbance in the air that might give away his position. The tension was suffocating, the silence broken only by the sound of her own ragged breathing.

Suddenly, Uperios struck, slashing at her with an invisible blade. Umbriel barely managed to dodge, but the knife still grazed her arm, leaving a shallow cut. The pain was sharp, but it sharpened her focus. She could feel the power emanating from Uperios, could sense the way the air shifted around him. His invisibility wasn’t perfect—there were moments when it faltered, when she could almost see him.

Carter had noticed it too. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the black flask, the black liquid inside was intimidating. “It’s time,” he whispered, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes.

Umbriel, now wounded and weakened from several cuts from Uperios, collapsed to the ground. She could feel the cold creeping into her limbs, her strength fading as the blood seeped from her injuries. Just as Uperios prepared for another strike, Martel stirred, groaning as he slowly regained consciousness. Seeing Umbriel in danger, he forced himself to his feet and rushed to her side.

“Get her out of here, Martel!” Carter shouted, his voice ringing with urgency. “I’ll handle Uperios!”

Martel didn’t hesitate. He scooped Umbriel up onto his shoulders and bolted from the clearing, her weight a reminder of the gravity of the situation. As they fled through the forest, Umbriel’s voice rang out in the darkness, “Carter, the boots! Focus on the boots!”

Her words echoed through the trees, a desperate plea as they disappeared into the night. Umbriel’s heart ached with every step, torn between the need to escape and the fear of what might happen to Carter. She prayed that he would be able to defeat Uperios, that he would find a way to survive.

Back in the clearing, Uperios reappeared, his confidence shaken but not broken. He circled Carter, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. “Surrender, and I might let you live,” he said, his voice low and menacing.

Carter smirked, a defiant glint in his eyes. “Your last trick didn’t do much,” he taunted, holding up the black vial. “But let’s see how you handle this.”

Uperios, angered by Carter’s audacity, lunged forward. But Carter was ready. He dodged the attack with a swift backward motion and hurled the black with tremendous force vial to the ground…

-Back at the camp-

Martel was tending to Umbriel’s wounds. Though deep, the cuts were not life-threatening, and she would recover in time. But worry gnawed at them both as they waited for Carter’s return. The minutes dragged on, each one an eternity of uncertainty and fear.

“We should go see if he's alright.” Said Umbriel, trying to get up and go back to the clearing.

Martel stopped her. “No, Umbriel, let Carter do his job, I trust him, just calm down.

Umbriel’s heart raced with every passing second. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Uperios was still out there, that his presence lingered in the darkness, waiting to strike. The forest seemed to close in around them, the shadows deepening as if to conceal some unseen menace.

Suddenly, Umbriel felt a presence nearby—a sensation so strong it made her skin crawl. She tensed, preparing for the worst. The presence grew stronger, closer, until she could almost feel the breath of her invisible foe on the back of her neck. Uperios was back, she thought.

But then, out of nowhere, Carter appeared, wearing the Boots of Pride. The invisibility effect faded as he stepped into the light of the fire, revealing himself to be safe and sound.

“Tada! Guess who’s back?” Said carter humorously.

“Car, you’re back… and you got the boots!” Said Umbriel, amazed.

“Yes, and… thanks for saving me back there, Umbriel”

Relief washed over them like a tidal wave. Carter was alive, and he had the Boots of Pride in his possession. Umbriel jumped at him, giving him a big hug, Martel shrugged, a wave of jealousy surged through him.

“I felt responsible for the danger you had all faced” Said Umbriel.

“I’m so sorry for the perils that I’m bringing to you guys.”

She remembered the moment when Uperios’s knife had transformed into a branch, but she couldn’t quite believe that it had been her doing. The truth of that moment remained a mystery, but there will be time to talk about what happened.

The three of them were together again, but a new worry gnawed at the back of their minds: Keno. If Uperios had found them, there was a chance Keno wasn’t far behind. And he sure wouldn't be happy when he finds out what happened to his younger brother, so they couldn’t afford to wait for morning.

Without another word, they gathered their belongings and set off into the night, their sights set on getting to Sir’ala as soon as possible.