The darkness ahead of us didn’t just move; it congealed. From the shifting gloom, two points of luminous yellow ignited, fixing on us with an unnerving stillness. A shape bled out of the shadows around them—humanoid, but its edges frayed and dissolved like smoke in a breeze. It wasn’t just watching us. It was studying us, a predator assessing its prey. My breath caught in my throat. What is it?

Then it moved. With a lurch that defied physics, it launched itself at Cassius, its form flowing with an unnatural speed that was both swift and jarringly erratic.

“Cassius!”

The word was a strangled gasp, but he was already in motion. His sword was a silver whisper in the night air, drawn and descending in a single, fluid arc. The blade met the creature with a soundless impact, cleaving it cleanly in two. For a chilling heartbeat, the bisected halves stood writhing, two separate columns of living shadow. Then, smoky tendrils stretched between them, knitting the creature back together with a faint, whispering hiss. It was whole again. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum against the sudden silence.

Cassius didn’t hesitate. He became a whirlwind of steel, a furious barrage of strikes that sliced and sundered the creature time and again. And each time, the shadowy form simply flowed back into itself, seamlessly mending every wound. A cold dread, sharp and electric, washed over me. Every hair on my body stood on end—a familiar warning.

Instinct took over. I threw up a shield of pure mana just as I spun, the air behind me turning frigid. A second creature stood exactly where I had been a moment before, its hand outstretched, fingers aiming for my neck. It was identical to the first, its chilling, yellow-eyed gaze tilting with a soft, skeletal click. It lunged, its hand slapping against my shield with the force of a thrown stone. A low chittering, like grinding teeth and dry leaves, vibrated from its form as the air grew thick with the cloying stench of rot and old graves. It was so terrifyingly close to human, and yet so utterly, nightmarishly not.

I narrowed my focus, pulling on the wellspring of my mana. A familiar heat bloomed in my palm, coalescing into a blade of shimmering lavender-pink energy. Dropping the shield, I swung the mana-sword at the creature’s arm, severing it at the wrist. The dismembered hand dissolved into a cloud of writhing shadows that immediately snaked back to the stump, reforming the limb in an instant.

It lunged again. I dodged, twisting to its flank and cleaving it in two from shoulder to hip. Before it could reform, I plunged my mana blade into the half collapsing to the ground, but it was like stabbing mist. The shadows dissipated, flowing back to their other part and reconnecting as if they’d never been parted. A hot spike of frustration shot through me. I gathered my energy, not into a fine blade, but into a raw, concussive force, and unleashed a powerful blast that shattered the creature into a dozen pieces.

They didn’t mend. Instead, the fragments solidified. Now, three identical shadow-beings advanced on me, their yellow eyes burning with cold malevolence.

“Thalia!” Cassius’s voice was ragged, strained with effort. “Try fire!”

Of course. Not force, but transformation. Closing my eyes for a fraction of a second, I poured every ounce of my will into a singular point of heat in my palm, envisioning a roaring, white-hot furnace. I opened them and hurled the nascent star at the central creature. It was instantly engulfed. A shriek tore through the air—a sound of pure agony and dissolving matter—as its shadowy form was unraveled by the flames, burned away into absolute nothingness.

The remaining two screeched in unison, a piercing cry of rage that drew the attention of the one still locked in combat with Cassius. “Thalia, run!” he yelled, parrying a desperate, clawed strike.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I broke into a sprint, heading for the upward path as the creatures closed in behind me. Whirling around, I slammed both hands on the ground and summoned a raging wall of fire. It erupted from the earth before them, a curtain of roaring flame that instantly engulfed their shadowy forms. Their screeches turned guttural, then choked, then fell silent, leaving only the fierce, hungry crackle of the blaze.

When the fire died down, the quiet it left behind was profound, almost deafening. The only sounds were the chirping of crickets and my own ragged, desperate breaths. I stumbled back toward Cassius, and he met me halfway, his face a mask of concern in the moonlight.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice still catching as his eyes scanned me for injuries.

“I’m fine,” I assured him, the adrenaline beginning its slow, shaky retreat. “You?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, giving a single, sharp nod as the tension finally began to leave his shoulders.

I sank to the ground, the cool, damp grass a welcome shock against my skin. “How did you know fire would work?”

Cassius sat beside me, his long frame folding with a weary grace. “I didn’t, not for certain,” he admitted. “My blade struck that boulder.” He gestured with his head. “It threw off sparks. The creature recoiled from them—just for an instant, but it was enough. It feared the spark more than the steel. It was a guess.”

“A lucky one,” I breathed, staring into the darkness where the abominations had been. The air still smelled of ozone and burnt shadow. “I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“Nor have I,” he murmured, his voice low. “Though I feel as if I’ve read of something similar, long ago. It seems the creatures are growing bolder.”

“Yes,” I agreed, a weariness deeper than muscle settling into my bones. “As Amelia would say, ‘The darkness is approaching.'” My eyelids felt impossibly heavy. Bracing my arm on the cool grass, I shifted slightly closer to him. The question escaped my lips before I could stop it. “May I… rest my head on your shoulder? Just for a moment.”

I felt more than saw him stiffen beside me. His breath hitched, and when he spoke, his voice was a little strained. “Yes.”

I leaned against him, the solid warmth of his body a comforting anchor in the disorienting dark. It seeped through his cloak and into my cheek, a steady heat that chased away the last of the graveyard chill. A soft, involuntary sigh escaped me.

His voice was quiet, a low vibration beside my ear. “What is it?”

“Just tired,” I murmured into the rough fabric of his cloak.

I could feel his gaze on me, steady and searching. “I know you better than that, Thalia.”

A faint smile touched my lips, then vanished. “I just… I wish the town had given us more answers about the banished elf.” My eyes drifted to his hand resting on the grass beside us, to the faint, angry orange glow pulsing beneath his skin—a constant, painful reminder of the curse that was slowly, inexorably consuming him. “Instead, we leave with nothing but short stories.”

He let out a soft, low chuckle. “Sounds like someone we know.”

“Amelia,” I agreed. “But she has her reasons.”

“That she does,” he said, his tone laced with a familiar resignation. “And yet, fate unfolds as it must.”

“You’re right.” My earlier doubt receded, replaced by a flicker of resolve. “We’ll search the cliffs in the morning. She has to be here.”

He gave no reply, and a comfortable silence settled between us. The air itself seemed to still, growing charged and intimate. I found myself focusing on the soft rhythm of his breathing, the scent of leather and dried herbs that clung to him, mingling with the cool night air. My heart picked up its pace, each beat a loud thump in my ears as I became acutely aware of how close we were.

“Thalia,” Cassius breathed, his voice soft and low.

I lifted my head from his shoulder to look at him. His face was close; his eyes were blue pools reflecting the moonlight. For a single, suspended heartbeat, the world seemed to stop. The chirping crickets, the rustling leaves—it all faded to a distant hum as he leaned slightly closer.

“Yes?” I whispered, the word barely audible.

“I wanted to—”

His words were cut short by a flicker of movement high above. A pinpoint of light, warm and golden against the stark black of the rock face. My head snapped towards it, and the fragile, spellbinding moment shattered.

“Cassius, look!” My voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet intimacy. “On the cliffs. There’s a light.” A wave of hope, fierce and bright, surged through me, eclipsing everything else. “It’s her. It has to be.”