The wind cut through the narrow pass like a blade, carrying with it the faint smell of ash and decay. James pulled his coat tighter, his breath fogging in the cold air. The group had been moving nonstop since the attack, their pace driven by an unspoken urgency. Every shadow felt like a threat; every distant sound set their nerves on edge.

Rook led the way, his eyes scanning the terrain with practiced precision. Vance trudged behind him, his sword resting on his shoulder, while Leena brought up the rear, her movements almost silent. Derrin walked beside James, clutching the shard device as if it were his lifeline.

No one had spoken much since the attack, but the silence between them felt heavy with questions. James couldn’t stop replaying the battle in his mind—the surge of power, the way it had erupted from him without warning.

The shard.

Derrin’s words echoed in his mind. It’s connected to you now. The shard, the Spire... the Forsyth name.

The trail opened into a small clearing, bordered by jagged rocks and frost-covered trees. Rook raised a hand, signaling for the group to stop.

“We’ll rest here,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Not for long. Just enough to catch our breath.”

Vance dropped his pack with a groan, slumping against a boulder. “Finally. Thought my legs were going to fall off.”

Leena smirked, though her expression remained guarded. “Maybe if you didn’t swing that sword like it weighs a hundred pounds, you’d have some energy left.”

Vance shot her a glare but didn’t respond, too tired to muster a retort.

James sat on a fallen log, his eyes drawn to the shard device in Derrin’s hands. It pulsed faintly, a soft glow emanating from its core.

“What is it, really?” James asked, breaking the silence. “The shard. What does it do?”

Derrin hesitated, his fingers tightening around the device. “It’s... complicated. The shards are fragments of the Veil, pieces of its power made tangible. They hold immense energy, but they’re unstable—dangerous.”

James frowned. “Then why carry it around?”

“Because it’s necessary,” Derrin said, his voice almost defensive. “The shards are the key to understanding the Veil—and the Spire. Without them, we’re blind.”

Rook glanced over, his expression unreadable. “Blindness is sometimes safer. The shards don’t just attract Veilspawn; they amplify the Veil’s influence. That power you used back there?” He gestured toward James. “That wasn’t all you. The shard pushed it further. It’ll do the same to anyone who stays near it for too long.”

James’s stomach twisted. “So it’s dangerous for me to even be near it?”

“Yes,” Rook said bluntly. “But leaving it behind isn’t an option.”

Leena moved to sit beside James, her daggers still in hand. She began cleaning one of the blades, her movements precise and methodical.

“You handled yourself well back there,” she said, her tone casual.

James raised an eyebrow. “You mean not getting killed?”

She smirked faintly. “That’s a start. But I’m talking about the power you used. It wasn’t just random—you had control, even if it didn’t feel like it.”

James shook his head. “It didn’t feel like control. It felt... wild. Like it was going to tear me apart.”

Leena paused, her gaze shifting to the shard in Derrin’s hands. “That’s the thing about power—it doesn’t come without a cost. You’ll have to decide if the risk is worth it.”

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The group’s rest was short-lived. Rook stood and motioned for them to gather their things.

“We’re close to the next waystation,” he said. “If we push hard, we’ll reach it by nightfall. Better to be inside when the sun sets.”

As they prepared to leave, James noticed something out of the corner of his eye—a faint shimmer in the air, like heat rising from the ground. He blinked, but it was gone.

“Did anyone else see that?” he asked, his voice uncertain.

Rook turned sharply. “See what?”

James pointed to the spot where the shimmer had been. “Something... strange. Like the air was moving.”

Derrin’s face paled. “A Rift?”

Before anyone could answer, the ground beneath them trembled. A low, guttural growl echoed from the shadows, followed by the sound of something massive moving through the trees.

“Not again,” Vance muttered, gripping his sword.

The first creature that emerged was a towering Mireborn—its grotesque, amphibious body covered in slick, mucus-coated skin that dripped with poison. It let out a spine-chilling howl, charging straight at them.

But it wasn’t alone.

From the underbrush, a pack of Carrion Wretches, their emaciated, wolf-like forms skittering toward the group with unsettling speed. Their haunting howls sent ripples of dread through the air, and the ground was littered with the crackle of energy as several Riftlings—sharp, crystalline creatures—climbed out from the folds of reality, their bodies humming with sharp, screeching noise.

“Stay together!” Rook shouted, his sword gleaming as he moved to intercept the Mireborn charging him.

Vance lunged forward, aiming for the Mireborn with a powerful strike. His blade struck true, but the creature’s tough hide absorbed the blow, sending a shudder through his arm. He staggered back as it slashed at him with webbed claws, its rancid breath filling the air.

Leena was already moving, swift and silent, her daggers slicing through the Carrion Wretches that lunged for her, their sharp claws scraping off her armor. With every slash, she moved like a shadow, disorienting the Wretches and buying time for her allies.

Derrin, his face strained with concentration, focused on the Riftlings. A burst of energy erupted from his hands, sending a shockwave of force at the crystal creatures. They screeched in pain, but only a few staggered back before retaliating with razor-sharp, shard-like projectiles. One of the shards sliced across his shoulder, but he gritted his teeth and continued fighting, sending another blast of energy toward the oncoming creatures.

James gritted his teeth and summoned the shadowy power from the shard. His hand glowed with dark energy, and he released a wave of it toward the Mireborn that was charging Rook. The shadows struck with a force that knocked it back, but it only roared in fury, its red eyes burning with a menacing light.

“James! You need to focus!” Rook shouted as he blocked a strike from the Mireborn’s claws. “The shard—use it!”

James hesitated, the power swirling inside him, almost beyond his control. But the sheer chaos of the battle forced his hand. He reached for the shard, feeling the pulse of its energy surge through him. The shadows around him thickened, curling like living tendrils.

A massive wave of darkness exploded outward, sweeping through the battlefield. The Carrion Wretches were engulfed, their forms vanishing beneath the crushing weight of the shadows. One of the Riftlings was torn apart, its crystalline body shattering into a million shards, scattering like confetti.

But the Mireborn was not so easily stopped. It lunged at James, its jaws snapping, but Rook intercepted it with a brutal slash. The creature staggered back, reeling from the blow.

“We need to push it back!” Leena called out, her voice urgent.

With a sharp movement, she darted forward, her daggers flashing as she aimed for the Mireborn’s weak points. Vance followed close behind, his sword blazing as he aimed for its legs, trying to slow it down. Derrin threw another wave of energy at the creature, forcing it to stagger back.

The battle raged on, a chaotic frenzy of strikes, dodges, and blasts of energy. James, his body shaking, continued to focus on the shard, feeling the raw power within him threatening to tear him apart.

And then, just when it seemed they might be overwhelmed, Rook’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding. “On my signal!”

The group rallied, closing in on the remaining Mireborn. With a final, coordinated strike, Rook sliced through its throat, and Vance drove his sword deep into its side. The creature let out a final, guttural roar before collapsing in a heap, its massive body crumpling under the weight of their combined effort.

But the cost had been high. The clearing was littered with the bodies of fallen beasts, and the air was thick with the stench of blood and decay. James could feel the shard’s power still pulsing inside him, almost unbearably strong.

He collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath.

Rook moved to his side, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. “You did well,” he said, though his voice was strained. “But that power... it’s not something we can control forever.”

Leena knelt beside James, her face drawn. “Next time, we won’t be so lucky.”

Derrin, still panting from the exertion, stepped forward. “We’ll need to find a way to harness it. Control it... or it’ll destroy us all.”