The tension from the night before hadn't broken.
Elyra's thoughts were still tangled in the shadows of their encounter, the faces of the cursed souls she had seen flickering through her mind like fleeting nightmares. They had fought—yes—but at what cost? Kael had said little after the battle, but his silence spoke volumes. His cold demeanor told her all she needed to know: he was disturbed by the creatures, by the very land they were trespassing on. The Deadmarch was not just a forest. It was a living nightmare, ancient and unyielding, its hunger deep and insatiable.
The fire they had made still burned low behind them, its embers crackling faintly in the stillness of the night, barely audible against the symphony of the forest. The distant thrum of the trees—the heartbeat of the land—echoed through the air, making the hairs on the back of Elyra's neck stand on end. She could feel it deep in her bones: something ancient was stirring. Something far older than she was prepared to face.
Elyra's senses were stretched thin as she moved through the Wilds, her boots sinking slightly into the moss-covered earth. The air was thick, heavy with an unnatural weight that seemed to cling to her skin. It wasn't the typical pressure of being in hostile territory, on the edge of danger. This was something else. Something primal. Every rustling leaf seemed to whisper warnings; every shadow seemed to pulse with a life of its own.
Kael had been the first to notice the shift in the air. His eyes narrowed, his hand instinctively drifting to the hilt of his blade. He didn't look at her, but his voice came, low and quiet, almost as if he were speaking to himself.
"Stay close."
Elyra hesitated only a moment. There was something about Kael that demanded attention. His arrogance, his pride—they weren't just quirks; they were his shield, his armor. Yet even beneath that, there was a sharpness to him that made his instincts undeniable. She'd learned that much in their brief time together. Even if she didn't fully trust him, she couldn't deny that his instincts were often right.
And today, she could feel it too. The creeping sensation that they were being watched. Hunted. She glanced around, her dagger at the ready, but there was no sign of any threat. Yet the forest seemed to close in around them, as though it were holding its breath.
Kael's sharp gaze flicked to her once, then back to the trail ahead. His expression remained unreadable. He moved with the grace of a predator, as though he had stepped into a domain he was born to conquer. The Deadmarch was no stranger to him.
But the deeper they went into the Wilds, the more Elyra could feel it. The land was ancient, its roots tangled with secrets that had long been buried. There was something older than time itself in these woods, and it wasn't friendly.
Then, the ground beneath them shifted. It wasn't a tremor, but a warning. Something disturbed the earth, something large and alive. Elyra froze, her heart hammering.
Kael's expression darkened immediately, his hand tightening around his blade. His eyes swept the trees with unnerving precision, as though he could see through them. Elyra followed suit, her breath shallow as the first rustling sounds came.
A thud, deep and rhythmic, pulsed through the ground. Something—someone—was coming.
Before Elyra could react, a blur darted from the trees. It was a creature, faster than anything she had ever encountered. A twisted mass of bone, sinew, and earth, its skin cracked and dark, like the ground itself had birthed it. Its eyes were hollow, glowing with an unnatural hunger.
She leapt back, drawing her dagger instinctively, but the creature was too fast. It slashed at her with talons like iron, the claws catching against her armor and leaving a gash deep enough to make her flinch. Pain shot through her side, but she didn't have time to think. The creature was on her again, relentless.
Kael was already there, moving like a shadow, his blade flashing in the pale light. His strike was aimed for the creature's throat, but it was quick, far quicker than anything he had expected. The sound of metal scraping against bone rang through the air, but the creature only staggered slightly before coming back at him, unfazed.
Elyra cursed under her breath. These weren't just animals. These things had intelligence. Purpose. And they were fast—faster than she had prepared for.
Another creature emerged from the shadows, then another. Soon they were surrounded, the air thick with their presence. Elyra's breath came in short bursts as she fought to stay focused, but the pressure of the battle was mounting. It wasn't just a fight for survival—it was as if they were trespassing in a domain where death had already made its mark.
Then, the earth cracked open beneath them.
A colossal shape rose from the ground, towering over them. The creature that emerged was far larger than the others, its form half-hidden by twisted roots and muck. It was a grotesque amalgamation of bark and flesh, as though the forest itself had corrupted a human form. The beast let out a roar, the sound shaking the very air around them. It was a nightmare made flesh, a thing of nightmares born from the wrath of the land.
"Kael!" Elyra shouted, her voice lost beneath the beast's roar as it lunged toward them, its claws scraping across the earth.
Kael didn't flinch. His eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward, meeting the beast with a fluidity that made Elyra's heart race. He was a storm contained within a man, his movements sharp and decisive. His blade flashed, meeting the creature's massive form with deadly intent, but it wasn't enough. The creature barely flinched, its fury undiminished.
The ground beneath Elyra's feet pulsed with a dark rhythm, the heartbeat of the Deadmarch itself. They weren't just fighting monsters. They were fighting the land, a place that wanted to consume them whole. Her dagger was an extension of herself, dancing through the shadows as she picked off the smaller creatures that circled them like vultures. She felt the thrill of the fight surge through her veins, but there was no time to revel in it.
Kael had already engaged the giant beast, his blade moving with precision. But it was relentless, and it wasn't slowing down. Elyra's heart pounded in her chest as she rushed to his side, her dagger finding its mark in one of the smaller creatures. It fell with a sickening thud, but more emerged from the shadows.
The earth trembled again. The large beast swung its claws in a brutal arc, forcing Kael to dodge. The air was thick with the stench of decay and the sound of steel against bone. Kael moved with a grace that almost seemed supernatural, but the creature's power was overwhelming.
Elyra's blood ran cold. She couldn't wait for Kael to deal with it. They needed to finish this—now.
With a final cry, Elyra rushed in, her dagger sinking deep into the beast's side. The creature roared, its body convulsing with pain, but Elyra didn't let go. She twisted the blade, severing something critical inside. The beast fell with an earth-shattering crash, the ground shaking beneath them.
Silence followed, thick and suffocating.
Kael stood beside her, his blade still drawn. He wiped the blood from it with a casual flick of his wrist before sheathing it. His eyes were sharp, scanning the horizon for any other threats, as if none of this had phased him in the slightest.
Elyra felt her chest heave with exhaustion. "What were they?" she asked quietly, her voice hoarse.
"They're not from this world," Kael replied, his voice cold, detached. "The Deadmarch corrupts everything. Even the land."
Elyra felt a chill crawl up her spine. What had they stepped into? The Deadmarch Wilds were no mere forest. It was a living, breathing thing, and it was hungry.
The worst was yet to come.