Sir Thane's expression turned serious, his brow furrowed with concern.
"Listen, kid, it may take a couple of days to reach the city gates. We didn't bring any medical supplies for wounds like yours, so I hope you can make it till then, okay?"
Feylin nodded, his eyes dropping to his wound. He knew it was bad, but he'd pushed through so far.
"Yeah... I'll make it," he said, his voice a bit stronger than he felt.
Sir Thane nodded, seeming to understand. "We'll do our best to get you there quick. Rest while you can, kid."
Feylin leaned forward, resting against the horse's neck, feeling the exhaustion creeping in. Sir Thane kept a watchful eye on him as they rode on.
As they rode, the sun beat down on them, making the air shimmer with heat. Feylin drifted in and out of consciousness, his body swaying with the horse's movements. Sir Thane kept a firm grip on the reins, his eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of danger.
The hours passed slowly, the landscape unfolding like a worn tapestry. Feylin's wound throbbed in time with the horse's hooves, and he gunted in pain every now and then. Sir Thane's expression grew grimmer with each passing hour, worried about the boy's condition.
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the landscape, Sir Thane called a halt. "Time to make camp, men. We'll rest for the night."
They set up a small camp, with Conor tending to the horses and the other guard, Marcus, starting a fire. Sir Thane helped Feylin down from the horse, his eyes checking the wound.
"Kid, you doing okay?" he asked, his voice low.
Feylin nodded, waving him off. "Yeah... just... tired."
Sir Thane nodded, helping him sit down by the fire. "Rest, kid. We'll keep watch."
As night fell, the stars twinkling overhead, Feylin drifted off into a fitful sleep, his dreams haunted by shadows and glowing eyes. As the night wore on, the fire crackled and spat, casting eerie shadows on the ground. Feylin's sleep was fitful, his dreams haunted by the creature that had killed his mother. He tossed and turned, his wound throbbing in time with his racing heart.
Suddenly, he jolted awake, his eyes snapping open. The camp was silent, except for the sound of Marcus's soft snoring. Sir Thane sat by the fire, his eyes fixed on the darkness beyond the flames.
"Feylin, you okay?" he asked, his voice low.
Feylin nodded, trying to shake off the nightmare. "Yeah... just... bad dream."
Sir Thane's gaze lingered on him, concern etched on his face. "You were whispering something. Sounded like... 'mom'."
Feylin's eyes dropped, his voice barely above a whisper. "It killed her. The creature."
Sir Thane nodded, his expression grim. "We'll get you safe to Camelot, kid. You'll tell us everything."
As they sat in silence for a moment, a faint rustling sound echoed through the darkness. Sir Thane's head snapped up, his hand on his sword.
"Conor, you hear that?" he whispered.
Conor was on his feet instantly, his eyes scanning the shadows. "Sounds like... something's out there, sir."
The rustling grew louder, closer. Feylin's heart pounded in his chest. He knew that sound. It was the same sound he'd heard in the forest, just before the creature attacked.
The glowing eyes appeared first, like lanterns in the darkness. Then, the creature emerged from the shadows, its twisted form looming over them.
The 15 knights, including Sir Thane, unsheathed their swords in unison, the blades shimmering with a soft blue light.
On each sword, symbols were etched, drawn from the sheath to the tip of the blade. These symbols glowed in the night, pulsing with a gentle energy. The knights stood tall, their faces set in determined expressions.
Sir Thane's sword, adorned with symbols of protection and courage, glowed brightest of all. "Aether marks," he said, his voice firm. "Grants us power against the Shadowborn."
The creature let out a screech, its tendrils writhing like snakes. The knights formed a circle around Feylin, their swords at the ready.
"Sir Thane, what's... what's the plan?" Conor asked, his voice steady.
"Protect the boy," Sir Thane said. "Aether blades'll cut through Shadowborn like paper. Take it down."
The creature lunged, its glowing eyes fixed on Feylin. The knights moved as one, their swords flashing in the night... The knights charged forward, their Aether-bladed swords slicing through the air with a soft hum. The creature shrieked as the blades bit into its shadowy flesh, sending sparks flying like tiny fireworks.
Sir Thane led the charge, his sword swinging in powerful arcs. Conor and Marcus flanked him, their movements practiced and deadly. The creature's tendrils lashed out, but the knights dodged and weaved, their swords finding their mark every time.
Feylin watched in awe, his wound forgotten. The knights were a whirlwind of steel and light, pushing the creature back with every strike.
But the creature was relentless, its screeches growing louder and more intense. It lunged at Sir Thane, its jaws snapping mere inches from his face. He dodged at the last second, his sword slicing into the creature's shoulder.
The creature howled, its body convulsing. The knights took advantage, pressing their attack. Sir Thane's sword flashed, striking the creature with a burst of Aether energy.
The creature let out a deafening screech, its body disintegrating into a cloud of dark mist. The knights stood victorious, their swords still glowing with Aether energy.
Feylin let out a shaky breath, his eyes wide with wonder. "What... what was that thing?"
Sir Thane sheathed his sword, his expression grim. "A Shadowborn. One of many, I'm afraid. We're not safe yet, kid. We need to get you to Camelot."
The knights began to clean and sheath their swords, their movements efficient and practiced. Feylin watched them, his mind reeling with questions.
But for now, he just nodded, feeling the exhaustion creeping back in. Sir Thane helped him to his feet, supporting him as they walked back to the camp.
"Rest, kid," he said, helping Feylin sit down. "We'll keep watch. We've got you."
Feylin nodded, feeling the darkness closing in. He was safe, for now...