Chapter 32: Shadows in the Thicket
The air grew colder as the sun dipped further behind the twisted canopy, casting jagged shadows across the forest floor. The tension was palpable, an unseen weight that pressed against their senses. Lyrian moved silently at the front, eyes narrowed and alert. His sword gleamed faintly, catching stray beams of dying light, but the Evernight Ember remained dormant—sealed beneath layers of control.
Dorian exhaled sharply, wiping a smear of blood from his cheek. "I'd kill for a map right now."
Reynard smirked, sheathing his sword with a flourish. "Didn't know you could get lost, spatial boy."
"It's not getting lost if I know we're doomed," Dorian shot back dryly.
"Can you two not?" Selene interjected, eyes rolling. "We're trying to not die here."
Lyrian's gaze flickered to the side, catching Elyreina's. She offered a small nod, her dagger twirling idly between her fingers. Despite the confident posture, he could see the tightness in her jaw—the strain lurking beneath.
They hadn't seen a high-tier beast yet, but the signs were there: fresh claw marks gouged into the bark, blood trails still wet on the ground. They moved cautiously, senses sharp and weapons ready.
A sudden roar split the air, deeper and more guttural than any wolf or lesser beast. The ground trembled, birds scattering in frantic bursts.
Reynard's eyes widened. "That… did not sound friendly."
Lyrian's grip on his sword tightened imperceptibly. "Stay close," he murmured.
Ahead, the underbrush exploded outward as a massive, tusked beast barreled through—fur matted and eyes red with fury. Its bulk alone seemed to suffocate the path, breath steaming in the chill air.
"Perfect," Dorian sighed. "An angry boar the size of a carriage."
Elyreina's form blurred, illusions weaving seamlessly as she darted to the side, dagger gleaming. Selene's arrows found the creature's hide but barely pierced, the shafts snapping against its thick fur.
"Any brilliant ideas?" Reynard called, narrowly sidestepping a tusk that cleaved a tree clean in half.
Lyrian moved in a blur, blade flashing. He kept his magic sealed, every strike precise but measured—conserving energy. The boar reared back, snorting furiously, but he sidestepped smoothly, sword carving through a tendon with lethal efficiency.
Dorian's eyes glimmered faintly as he activated Spatial Control, warping the distance around them to mislead the beast's charge. Its head snapped left, tusks carving into the dirt uselessly.
"Nice trick," Reynard grinned. "Shame it didn't actually kill it."
"Then do something useful," Dorian snapped.
Reynard smirked. "Gladly." He blurred forward, sword glinting with Zephyr Dance, wind howling in his wake. The blade found the beast's throat, cleaving deep in a single, fluid strike.
The boar staggered, a gurgling snarl echoing before it slumped heavily, blood pooling around its legs.
Reynard flicked his hair back smugly. "And that's how it's done."
Dorian rolled his eyes. "Congratulations, peacock."
"Bite me, space boy."
Lyrian exhaled quietly, sheathing his sword. His eyes flickered briefly, wary. Holding back the Evernight Ember was like restraining a caged beast—restless and eager to burn. But using it now would draw too many eyes.
He looked away. "We should keep moving."
—---
Elsewhere in the Ashen Wilds
Frost coated the ground in delicate patterns, steam rising faintly where ice met rotting leaves. Seraphina lowered her hand, silver hair catching the light as her eyes glinted—cold and unfeeling. Around her, the ground was littered with frozen bodies, beasts encased in ice with expressions twisted in agony.
The twins at her side exchanged glances—Alaric's eyes flickering with a mix of awe and mild fear. "Remind me never to get on your bad side," he muttered.
Seraphina's gaze was already ahead, scanning for threats. "Stay focused."
"Yes, ma'am," Alaric grinned, nudging his sister who merely sighed.
One of the beasts twitched—ice cracking as a paw lurched forward. Seraphina's eyes narrowed, frost curling around her fingers. With a flick, shards of ice erupted, skewering it cleanly. The beast stilled, frost spreading over fur and flesh alike.
"Efficient," Alaric noted, eyeing the ice. "Cold, but efficient."
Seraphina didn't respond, eyes distant and calculating. The frost lingered in the air—cold enough to bite, painting the trees with a delicate rime. She moved forward without hesitation, the twins following swiftly.
—---
Meanwhile, Deeper in the Forest
Zarek's blade cleaved through a lesser beast with brutal efficiency, blood misting the air. His armor gleamed dully, spattered with gore, but his eyes were sharp—burning with a fierce, untamed light.
"Keep up!" he barked, eyes narrowed as his squad struggled to match his pace. "If you lag, I'll leave you for the wolves."
His second-in-command, a wiry youth with dark hair, grumbled. "Motivational as ever, boss."
A snarl tore through the underbrush as another beast lunged. Zarek didn't slow—his blade met fur and flesh in a savage arc, severing head from shoulders in a single strike. Blood sprayed, but he stepped over the corpse without a glance.
He paused briefly, eyes flickering. "This is a waste of time. We need higher-tier beasts."
His companion exhaled, wiping his brow. "Great. Can we not find ones that don't want to eat us?"
Zarek snorted. "Then you can stay behind."
"Such warmth, Lord Stormcrest," the boy muttered dryly.
Zarek's glare was icy. "Shut up and move."
They pressed deeper, the air thick with rot and the coppery scent of blood. But Zarek's eyes gleamed with a savage determination—driven by something far colder than ambition.
—---
Back with Lyrian's Group
The silence was uneasy as they moved. Each shadow seemed to pulse with hidden malice, eyes glinting from between branches. The path wound ever deeper, roots curling like claws around stone.
Reynard huffed, flipping his hair back. "So, this is going well."
"Define well," Dorian muttered.
"I'm still pretty," Reynard smirked.
Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're going to die."
Lyrian's eyes flickered with faint amusement, but he said nothing, gaze fixed ahead. His grip on his sword remained steady—knuckles white despite the faint smirk that ghosted at the corners of his lips.
A sudden growl echoed from the shadows, and they halted abruptly, weapons at the ready. The darkness yawned ahead, branches twisted and gnarled.
Reynard's eyes narrowed. "This again?"
Elyreina's dagger gleamed, and her voice was low. "Stay close."
Lyrian exhaled, eyes narrowing. He could feel it—something vast and seething, deeper within. He steadied his breath, pushing the Evernight Ember further down, refusing to call on its flames. Not yet.
"Keep moving," he murmured.
They slipped into the shadows, blades glinting faintly, eyes sharp and wary. And the darkness watched—silent and hungry, waiting for a misstep.