Chapter 5

The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows on the trees surrounding the camp. Claire sat close to the flames, her body still aching from the day’s ordeal. Her naginata rested across her lap, a reassuring weight despite her exhaustion. Across the fire, Harold poked at the fire with a long stick, absently stirring the embers as if trying to distract himself from the tension hanging in the air. Elise, ever sharp-eyed, kept watch on the edge of the camp, her knife still in hand.

The silence had grown thick between them, and though Harold had tried to keep things light earlier, it was clear that no one was truly relaxed. Claire could feel the weight of Elise’s unspoken questions, the kind that lingered just out of reach but refused to be ignored.

“Where exactly were you headed?” Elise asked suddenly, breaking the quiet. Her tone was casual, but her eyes never left the treeline. Claire wasn’t fooled. The question wasn’t idle curiosity—it was a probe.

Claire hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. The truth—that she had no idea where she was, let alone where she was going—felt too dangerous to share. For now, it was easier to let them believe she was just another Aetherian lost in the wilds.

“I got separated,” Claire said after a moment, keeping her voice steady. “Was traveling with a small group from Aetherium. We were… headed south, but things went bad quickly.”

Elise’s brow twitched slightly, though she didn’t look directly at Claire. “South, huh?” There was a pause, then, “You’re a long way from any roads that lead out of Aetherium. Didn’t take you for the wandering type.”

Claire shifted, the knot in her stomach tightening. “I… I got lost,” she admitted, the words coming out more uncertain than she wanted. “I heard something in the woods… figured it might be safer to avoid whatever was making the noise, so I took a different path. Thought I could circle back, but…” She trailed off, feeling the weight of Elise’s scrutiny pressing down on her. “I ended up getting turned around.”

She glanced down at the fire, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. It sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.

Elise didn’t say anything at first, but her gaze lingered on Claire, as if she was assessing the truth in her words. “Turned around in the Wilds, huh?” she said, her voice neutral but edged with quiet skepticism.

Claire swallowed, feeling a little more flustered under the intensity of Elise’s stare. “Yeah, wasn’t really… thinking clearly,” she mumbled, letting the explanation trail off.

Harold, eager to break the tension, piped up. “Well, at least you didn’t run into whatever was making that noise! Could’ve been something nasty.” He nodded vigorously, still poking at the fire. “This place isn’t exactly forgiving, right?”

Elise didn’t respond, but there was a flicker of amusement at the corner of her mouth as Harold spoke. “The Wilds don’t forgive mistakes,” she said, her eyes shifting back to Claire. “You’re lucky you didn’t stumble into something worse.”

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Claire shifted uneasily, but before she could respond, a low rustling sound came from the nearby trees, freezing the camp in place.

Elise stood in an instant, her blade in hand, and Harold dropped his stick, scrambling back from the fire with wide eyes. Claire gripped her naginata, heart pounding as her eyes darted toward the sound. The forest was unnervingly still.

Then, the underbrush shook, and a figure stumbled out from the shadows.

It wasn’t a monster, but a man. Tall and ragged, his clothes torn and dirty, and his eyes wide with fear. He staggered toward them, breathing heavily, clutching his side as though wounded.

“Help—” he gasped, collapsing to the ground just beyond the firelight.

Harold moved forward, concern overriding his fear. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

The man groaned, barely able to lift his head. “Something’s… hunting me… please…” His voice was strained, broken, as though he’d been running for hours. “It’s coming.”

Elise didn’t lower her blade. “Who’s hunting you?”

The man’s breath hitched, his gaze wild. “I don’t know—beast… no, worse… shadows, they’re everywhere…” He coughed, his voice weakening. “I… ran…”

Claire’s grip tightened on her naginata, her pulse quickening. There was something off about this. The panic in the man’s voice was real, but the way he spoke—disjointed, like he couldn’t fully grasp what had happened—sent a cold shiver through her.

“Elise…” Claire began, her voice low.

Before she could finish, the man let out a strangled cry, his body convulsing violently. Claire instinctively took a step back, watching as his limbs twisted unnaturally, his skin paling as dark veins spread across his body like cracks in stone.

“What the hell is that?” Harold whispered, his face draining of color.

Elise moved forward, blade ready to strike, but before she could land the blow, the man’s body collapsed, dissolving into a mass of writhing shadows that spilled across the ground.

For a moment, there was only silence—then the shadows surged forward. But they didn’t rush into the firelight. They recoiled, shrinking back as if the light burned them. Claire’s breath caught in her throat as she realized the shadows weren’t drawn to the fire. They feared it.

It doesn’t like the light.

Her mind raced, and instinctively, she shifted closer to the flames, nudging a log to stir up more embers. The shadows hissed, pulling back, but they didn’t vanish. Instead, they twisted around the edges of the firelight, waiting, searching for a way in.

“Claire, keep it away!” Elise barked, her blade slashing through the air uselessly as the shadows twisted and dodged her strikes.

Claire swung her naginata again, driving the shadowy mass back toward the fire. Each time the light flared, the darkness flinched, pulling away from the heat and glow. Her heart pounded as she realized she could use this—the shadows were afraid of the light.

But just as she moved to strike again, something shifted in the air. The shadows paused, swirling in place as if they had sensed something in her. A cold tendril of darkness reached out, not toward the fire, but toward Claire.

Her breath caught in her throat. For a brief, terrifying moment, she felt something connect—something deep, something dark. The shadows tugged at the edges of her mind, calling to her, beckoning her to let them in. She could feel them, not just as an enemy, but as something… familiar.

What are you? The thought wasn’t her own—it was as if the shadows were asking her the same question.

“Claire!” Elise’s voice cut through the strange, distant haze that had clouded Claire’s thoughts. She hadn’t even realized how close the shadows had gotten—how they had begun to wrap themselves around her, pulling her into their cold embrace.

Elise leapt in, her blade flashing through the air, but this time it caught the flicker of firelight. The blade glinted with a bright, burning glow just as it sliced through the tendrils of shadow. The light seemed to singe the darkness, driving the shadows back with a hiss.

Elise struck again, her movements swift and precise, each blow illuminated by the fire. The shadows recoiled, writhing violently before dissolving into the night air like smoke caught in the wind.

The moment the connection broke, Claire staggered back, her chest heaving as the cold weight in her chest vanished. She hadn’t even realized she had been holding her breath. The last of the shadows disappeared, leaving only the faint crackling of the fire in their wake.

Elise was breathing hard, her eyes sharp as she sheathed her blade. “What was that?”