Firelight

The dense forest surrounded the back of the cabin, a thick wall of trees pressing in, their branches clawing up toward the starless sky.

The only break in the darkness was our small fire, crackling softly, casting faint glimmers of light over the clearing.

The flames flickered low, just enough to reveal the silhouettes of the others seated around it.

Despite my unease, I found myself next to Caelum, who sat across the fire, his face illuminated in flashes by the orange glow.

We all sat quietly, watching as the meat cooked over the crisped flames, the scent mingling with the earthy smell of the forest.

Silence filled the air, so thick I could almost hear my own heartbeat.

Then, like a chill wind slipping through the trees, I sensed it—a dark, looming aura approaching.

One of those twisted puppets we'd faced before, only this time, it felt stronger, as if every step it took left a weight in the air.

Yet, no one moved. Not even a flinch, as if waiting to see what would happen. Only Caelum stirred.

He reached for the sword lying beside him on the log, a hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. "Wow, they've been coming a lot recently," he said, his voice light, almost playful, as though greeting an old friend.

But his tone belied something else—a dangerous glint in his eyes, and a strange absence on his back.

Aubrey, the ghostly figure who usually shadowed him, had vanished once more, hiding away.

He fell silent, extending his hand as if plucking something from the air.

Then, in one swift, blurred movement, a figure appeared in his grip—a puppet, clad in blackened armor, its neck crushed tightly in Caelum's hold.

He slammed it into the ground, the impact sending a shock through the earth.

His movements were so swift I barely caught them, just the blur of metal and shadow against the firelight.

When he spoke again, his voice had changed, laced with venom.

"There are more coming. Only two, but I can sense them from here," he said, his gaze flickering briefly to me and Gabbi. "Dally, Gabbi, stay back. Let me and Solavane handle them."

I glanced at Solavane, whose eyes had already darkened with resolve.

She held out her hand, and in a flash, a massive sword appeared in her grasp, its silver blade catching the firelight, the hilt a deep, blood-red shade.

She nodded at me before stepping up beside Caelum, her focus entirely on the puppet still writhing in his grasp.

Caelum tilted his head down, regarding the puppet with something between curiosity and disdain. "Why are you trying so hard to kill me?"

The puppet didn't answer directly. Instead, it raised one decayed hand to its head, rasping out a single, guttural word, "Bang!"

Then, as if answering his call, two more figures emerged from the shadows of the trees.

Both were different from the others we'd fought—more alive, yet hollow, like twisted parodies of warriors.

The first, a woman, wore a skin-tight bodysuit with pieces of armor strapped only over vital areas, her stance poised and agile.

Her hair was jet-black, and her eyes were dull and lifeless, like staring into empty wells. In her left hand, she held a dagger, slim and sharp, catching a faint glint in the firelight.

The other was a towering figure of muscle, his torso bare, covered in scars and sinew, two massive swords gripped in each hand.

He had the same deathly pallor, skin almost translucent in its decay, with the same vacant, glassy eyes.

Their very presence felt wrong, as if they'd dragged the stench of death itself with them.

Caelum raised his sword, the steel gleaming against the dim firelight, his stance shifting fluidly as he advanced on the puppets with a quiet, deadly purpose.

The first puppet lunged forward, the woman with the dagger, her movement a blur as she closed in on him, but Caelum's blade was quicker, slashing upward with a precision that forced her to leap back, hissing.

The second puppet, the hulking man, charged with both swords raised, crashing down in a heavy swing.

Caelum deflected the blow, the sound of clashing metal echoing through the dense forest.

His blade flicked out in a swift counter, drawing a thin line across the puppet's torso, blackened blood seeping through the cut.

He moved like a shadow, sidestepping the man's strike and turning his focus back to the woman, who darted at him again, the dagger flashing as she aimed for his neck.

He parried, forcing her blade down as he spun, landing a blow across her ribs. She staggered, and her head twisted toward him, her empty eyes narrowing.

Solavane moved with lethal grace, gliding just beyond the firelight with her crimson-hilted sword in hand, never once allowing the puppets' strikes to get near her.

She struck only when an opening appeared, each cut deliberate, each movement calculated.

When the woman shifted her attention to Solavane, another quick flash of steel from Solavane's blade sent her stumbling back, clutching a fresh wound on her arm.

Not a single strike from the puppets managed to land.

Caelum pressed his advantage on the man, forcing him back toward the trees with an unrelenting series of strikes, every swing hitting with enough force to shake the armor off his opponent's chest.

The puppet swung desperately, missing as Caelum sidestepped, delivering a punishing cut across his shoulder that sent him crashing to his knees.

The woman was quicker, slipping back and attempting to regroup, but Solavane closed in, giving her no room to recover.

With an elegant twist of her blade, Solavane cut a deep line across the puppet's leg, forcing her down.

She barely reacted, but the movement faltered, her lifeless eyes meeting Solavane's only for a moment before Caelum's blade caught her across the chest, sending her sprawling into the dirt.

Both puppets lay on the ground, black blood pooling beneath them, their eyes staring unseeing up at the night sky.

Caelum and Solavane stood over them, breaths steady, their stances unwavering.

For a moment, all was still, and the only sound was the crackling fire and the distant rustle of branches in the dark forest.

Then, without warning, a chill filled the air, colder than the night, heavier than the darkness.

Beyond the edge of the clearing, just past the fallen puppets, another figure emerged from the shadows.

This puppet was different—its presence alone suffocated the warmth from the fire, and even the faintest movements were unsettlingly smooth.

Its frame was cloaked in long, torn robes, the color an indistinct shade between black and purple, its head bent downward, with a hood that concealed everything but a single pale eye peering out, glowing faintly in the darkness.

A twisted aura seeped from its form, the air thickening as it approached.

I felt Gabbi tense beside me, and we instinctively moved to stand behind Caelum and Solavane, who now faced the new puppet, their backs to us, standing over the fallen bodies of the two they'd just defeated.

The figure's voice resonated with an edge that bordered on pure death. "Like the world, you shall break. Atop the lonely river and the Sea of Time, you alone are destined to die."

The words struck like a spell, rooting me in place, my senses dimmed, my muscles locked.

Then, in a sudden, impossible instant, the figure moved—a blur of darkness, too fast to follow.

I only noticed it had reappeared in front of Gabbi when her familiar aura vanished, replaced by an unnatural, chilling void.

I whirled, drawing my sword. Caelum and Solavane sprang forward beside me, but it was too late.

As all three of our blades reached toward it, the figure's hand extended to Gabbi, and in that moment, they both disappeared.

I stumbled forward, weapon lowered, shock giving way to raw disbelief. Caelum and Solavane dropped their stances, their expressions darkened with an unspoken despair.

"It took her…my sister. It took her." The words tasted bitter, dissolving into the silence that followed.

Caelum sighed, his voice distant, each word only fueling my anger. "No, my love, I'll save her—but I don't love her."

I turned on him, my temper flaring. "You bastard! Is now really the time for jokes? They took her!"

I stormed up to him, grabbing his shirt. Just as I was about to say more, his blindfold slipped, and I froze.

His eyes burned with a suffocating, molten gold, threaded with a piercing icy blue that seemed to cut straight through me.

He spoke with an unyielding calm. "Take your hands off and back away, lest you wish for this land to fall."

I released him instantly, the weight of his gaze a palpable threat. Solavane exhaled in relief behind me as Caelum knelt, retrieved his blindfold, and re-tied it with precise movements.

"I've got a trace of his mana. I can find him. Just make sure you never, ever touch me again."

I swallowed hard and nodded as he exhaled, his presence deepening like a chilling river sweeping over stone.

His aura pulsed, unsettling, as though his gaze remained fixed on me even while blindfolded. "He's near the coast, on an island just past the harbor."

Solavane cursed under her breath. "Please don't tell me it's Boatman's Watch. I was hoping he wasn't…that guy."

Caelum's tone turned dark. "I'm heading there. Do your utmost to keep up; if your sister falls…you may have to face her yourself."

Solavane glanced at me, her face tight with concern. "Dally, I think you should stay back."

I clenched my fists, fire raging in my veins. "No. They have Gabrielle. Do you really think I'm just going to stay here?"

Caelum's gaze shifted north, and he let out a weary sigh. "No, wait. We can't go right now. Day's about to break. Once it does, they grow stronger."

"What?" I asked, frowning in confusion.

He looked directly at me, his expression serious. "Listen. We need to stay awake the entire day and into the next night. If you fall asleep, he'll be able to control you. I suggest you stay close to the firelight."

With that, Caelum seated himself by the fire and waved a hand over it, rekindling the flames with a fresh surge of warmth.

Solavane settled down beside him, giving me a look that left no room for argument. Reluctantly, I joined them.

As the mist thickened, curling through the trees and casting eerie shadows, I heard his voice again, taunting and half-mocking, "No, my love, I don't think I'm going to cry tonight."

And then, in a dreamlike shift, I found myself seated on a throne—a throne that was both familiar and foreign, transformed and twisted into something unrecognizable, the air around it dense with a sinister, haunting chill.