Vinrah spun at the sound, her blade flashing into her hand before her eyes even found the source. The riders jolted awake, confusion and fear rippling through the clearing.
One of the men near the fire clutched his chest, an arrow buried deep between his ribs. Blood spilled down his tunic as he staggered, collapsing to the ground with a wet cough that rattled through the night.
Siegfried was already moving, his sword drawn, his eyes scanning the treeline. "Archers!" he barked, his voice sharp with fury.
The forest answered only with silence.
The riders scrambled to their feet, shields raised, weapons drawn, their eyes darting into the shadows. Horses reared and snorted, panicked by the sudden violence. The firelight flickered wildly, throwing long, jagged shadows across the clearing.
Vinrah knelt beside the fallen rider, her jaw tight, her hands pressing against the wound though she knew it was useless. "He's gone," she said coldly, rising to her feet. Her eyes burned as she turned toward the trees. "They're watching us."
Another whistle cut through the air.
The riders raised their shields, the arrow clattering harmlessly against iron. Siegfried's gaze locked on the direction of the shot, his muscles coiled, his rage boiling over. "Cowards," he snarled. "Come out and face us!"
Ellina's voice carried from the carriage, calm but edged with command. "Do not scatter. That is what they want."
The riders tightened formation, shields overlapping, eyes scanning the dark. The forest seemed alive with menace, every rustle and whisper a threat.
Siegfried's grip tightened on his sword. His scream still echoed in his chest, raw and unyielding. He had seen betrayal once already that day, and now the night itself had turned against them.
The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.
Then, from the shadows, a figure stepped forward.
From the shadows, a figure stepped forward.
The firelight caught only fragments the curve of a hood, the glint of steel, the pale shimmer of something across the face. No voice came, no challenge, only the slow, deliberate movement of someone who had chosen to be seen.
The riders tightened formation, shields raised, weapons trembling in their hands. Vinrah's blade lifted, her stance sharp, her eyes locked on the silhouette. "Show yourself," she commanded, her voice cutting through the night.
The figure did not answer only cocking his head slightly. Letting out a small laugh that sounded as if it was being drowned in a thick liquid.
Siegfried's grip tightened on his sword, his chest burning with rage. He stepped forward, but Ellina's voice carried from the carriage, calm and firm. "Do not break formation. That is what they want."
The figure lingered at the edge of the clearing, half‑hidden, half‑revealed. The forest seemed to bend around them, shadows thickening, branches whispering as though the trees themselves conspired to keep their secret.
Then, without a sound, the figure began to sink.
The ground beneath them rippled like liquid, a puddle of shadow spreading outward. Their form dissolved into it, swallowed piece by piece until only the hood remained, then the glint of steel, then nothing at all. The puddle quivered once, then flattened, vanishing into the earth as if it had never been.
The riders stood frozen, breath ragged, eyes wide. No more arrows came. No sound followed. Only the steady hum of the forest returned, as if mocking their fear.
Vinrah lowered her blade slowly, her jaw tight. "That was no man," she said bitterly.
Siegfried's voice was low, cold. "And it wanted us to know it could reach us."
Ellina's veil shifted faintly within the carriage, her presence steady, unbroken. "Fear is a weapon. Do not let it cut you."
The clearing fell into silence once more, but the riders knew the night would not be restful. The forest had shown them its teeth, and the shadows held secrets they were not yet ready to face.
The rider's body lay sprawled near the fire, blood pooling beneath him, his chest pierced clean through. Vinrah had already declared him gone, her voice cold and certain. The others tried to steady themselves, but unease lingered like smoke.
Then the corpse shuddered.
At first it was a twitch in the fingers, a spasm in the leg. But soon the movements grew violent, convulsions rattling through his frame. His back arched unnaturally, bones cracking as his body jerked upright.
A low hum filled the clearing, not from the forest, but from the earth itself. Shadows thickened around the corpse, curling like smoke, seeping into his wound. The arrow in his chest pulsed with a sickly purple glow, veins of light spreading outward as if feeding on his blood.
Ellina's eyes widened. Her voice cut through the night, sharp and certain. "This is necromancy."
The rider's jaw stretched wide, a guttural groan tearing from his throat. Foam and ichor spilled down his chin as his eyes snapped open, glowing red. His veins blackened, his skin stretched tight, and the stench of rot filled the air.
Vinrah's blade lifted. "Undead! Stand ready!"
The undead guard staggered forward, his movements jerky, puppet‑like, driven by a will not his own. His hands clawed at the air, nails splitting into talons. The firelight reflected off his blackened veins, his body reshaping itself into something no longer human.
Siegfried stepped into his path, sword raised, his voice steady despite the horror. "don't get to close, we don't know what else could happen."
The riders circled, shields locking, fear thick in the air. Horses screamed and pulled against their tethers, sensing the unnatural presence.
Ellina's voice rang out again, commanding. "He is bound to another's will. Strike him down, or he will not stop."
The undead guard let out a shriek, half human, half something else a sound that scraped against the bones of all who heard it.
The risen guard lurched forward, his movements jerky and unnatural, veins blackened and eyes glowing red. Foam and ichor spilled from his mouth as he shrieked, a sound that scraped against bone.
Siegfried met him head‑on, sword flashing in the firelight. Steel bit into corrupted flesh, but the creature did not falter. It clawed at him with talon‑like fingers, forcing him back step by step.
Vinrah surged in from the side, her blade cutting deep across the creature's arm. Black ichor sprayed, sizzling as it struck the ground, but the wound only seemed to drive it into greater frenzy.
The riders tightened formation, shields raised, but none dared close in. The fire crackled wildly, shadows dancing across the clearing as the undead guard pressed his assault.
Siegfried ducked beneath a clawed swipe, driving his sword into the creature's chest. The blade pierced through, but the body convulsed, ichor spilling around the steel. With a guttural roar, the creature shoved him back, the arrow in its chest glowing faintly as if feeding its strength.
Vinrah snarled, her blade cutting low, severing one of its legs. The creature collapsed, but instead of falling still, it dragged itself forward, clawing at the earth, shrieking with unholy rage.
Siegfried raised his sword high, his voice cold. "End it!"
Together, he and Vinrah struck Siegfried's blade cleaving through its chest, Vinrah's cutting across its neck. The creature convulsed violently, ichor spilling in thick streams, before collapsing into the dirt. Its shriek faded into a rattling groan, then silence.
The firelight flickered across its ruined form. The glow in its eyes dimmed, the veins slackened, and the body finally lay still.
The riders stood frozen, breath ragged, shields trembling in their hands. Horses stamped and snorted, restless from the stench of corruption.
Vinrah wiped her blade, her jaw tight. "Never seen anything like that."
Siegfried's chest heaved, his sword dripping with ichor. "That was no man. Who would do that."
Ellina stepped forward, her silver hair catching the firelight, her expression grave. "Necromancy? Someone reached across the veil and claimed him. This was not chance. It was a message."
The clearing fell into silence, heavy and suffocating. The riders exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of Ellina's words pressing down on them.
Siegfried sheathed his sword, his voice low. "Then whoever waits in Gishtar knows we're coming."
Ellina's gaze lingered on the corpse, her eyes narrowing. "And they will not stop until we arrive."
The fire had burned down to embers by the time the first light crept through the canopy. Mist hung low across the clearing, curling around roots and stones, carrying with it the damp scent of pine and earth. The riders stirred slowly, their faces drawn, their eyes shadowed by the memory of what they had witnessed.
The corpse of the guard lay blackened and still, its veins slack, its eyes dull. They had dragged it to the edge of the clearing, but none dared touch it again. Even lifeless, it seemed to hum faintly with the residue of dark magic.
Vinrah rose first, her cloak heavy with dew, her blade already in hand. She scanned the treeline, her jaw tight. "The forest is quiet," she said, though her voice carried no relief.
Siegfried pushed himself up from where he had slept near the fire, his body sore, his mind heavy. He looked toward the carriage, where Ellina had remained through the night. The silk veil shifted faintly, and he knew she was awake, watching.
The riders gathered, their movements subdued. Horses stamped nervously, ears flicking at every sound. The clearing felt heavier than before, as though the trees themselves remembered the shriek of the undead.
Ellina stepped from the carriage, her silver hair catching the pale light of dawn. Her eyes swept the clearing, lingering on the corpse. "Necromancy leaves traces," she said quietly. "This place will not forget what was done here."
Her words settled over them like frost.
Siegfried adjusted his sword belt, his voice low. "Then we move. The longer we linger, the more the forest will hold us."
Vinrah nodded sharply, barking orders to the riders. They tightened formation, shields strapped, weapons ready. The carriage door closed once more, and the company pressed onward.
The sun climbed higher, burning away the mist, but the road ahead felt darker than ever.
And though dawn had broken, the shadow of the night lingered, following them into the heart of the ancient woods.
As they broke camp and pressed onward, the clearing fell silent once more. Mist curled low across the ground, swallowing the traces of fire and blood.
From the treeline, unseen by mortal eyes, the figure returned.
He stood where the corpse had fallen, his hood drawn low, his form half‑merged with the shadows. The earth beneath him rippled faintly, as though it welcomed his presence.
His voice was a whisper, carried only to the trees.
"A shame," he murmured, gazing at the blackened veins of the fallen guard. "You were crafted well, a loyal husk, a blade of my will. And yet… they broke you."
He crouched, fingers brushing the ichor‑stained soil. The shadow pooled beneath his hand, quivering like liquid.
"They are stronger than I expected. The mercenary fights with fury, the captain with precision, and the girl…" His voice lingered, sharp with interest. "The girl wields power she should not yet command."
The figure straightened, his hood shifting to reveal the faint glint of pale eyes.
"No matter. One creature lost is nothing. I will raise more. I will send worse. And when they reach Gishtar, they will find not one blade waiting, but a legion."
He sank slowly into the puddle of shadow, his form dissolving piece by piece until only his voice remained.
"Run while you can, little ones. Every step you take brings you closer to me. I will break you and bring everything to light Ellina."
The clearing fell silent again, the mist curling as though it had swallowed his words whole. Only the trees bore witness as he sank once more into the puddle of shadow, vanishing without trace.
The sun climbed higher, burning away the mist, but the road ahead felt darker than ever. Though dawn had broken, the shadow of the night lingered, following them into the heart of the ancient woods.