The light shifted.
Not darker.
Not brighter.
Just wrong.
A pressure curled through the trees like a breath held too long. The fog thickened, clinging to their legs. Even the pines bent inward, like they, too, feared what was coming.
Then came the growl.
Low. Guttural.
Too close.
Dantes immediately stepped forward, arm raised. "Behind me."
But Alberta didn't move.
Between the trees, something emerged—twisted bone and sinew, crawling on limbs that bent the wrong way. Its face was a blur of jawbone, rot, and something that shimmered like tar. It snarled as if remembering how.
Dantes charged first. Blade drawn.
The Wane beast met him with unnatural speed—
Steel met bone. Sparks flew.
He slashed, ducked, cursed. "It's fast—!"
The beast shrieked—a sound that split the fog. It reared back, and Dantes moved in again.
Then it changed direction.
Straight for Alberta.
"MOVE!" Dantes shouted.
She didn't.
Instead, she yanked a fallen branch from the forest floor and swung—wild, untrained, but enough to crack against the beast's skull.
It staggered. Just enough.
Dantes barreled in with his blade. "Not bad for a noble!"
"Shut up and stab it!"
The beast lashed out again. Its claw struck Alberta's arm—tearing through fabric. She winced, stumbled, but didn't drop the branch.
Dantes growled, slashing its side. "Stay back!"
"Then stop getting hit!"
The amulet at her chest pulsed—hotter now. As if reacting to the blood, the fear, or her.
The beast lunged again—straight at Dantes.
This time, Alberta moved first.
She threw herself forward, pushing Dantes out of the way. The beast's claws grazed her shoulder, but she held her ground, clutching the amulet. The light burst from her hands, bright and violent.
The Wane creature reeled back, shrieking. Its flesh cracked, like fire under skin.
Dantes caught Alberta before she collapsed. "Don't do that again."
"I saved your life."
"Yeah, well—I was gonna save yours first."
She gave a tired, crooked grin. "Guess we're even."
But it wasn't over.
The beast snarled, circling again—faster, more aware. Its eyes locked on them both now.
Alberta reached for the branch again, blood trailing from her cut. She stood beside Dantes.
"Not running?"
"Not unless you carry me."
Dantes smirked. "Tempting."
The beast lunged one last time.
Together—they moved. Alberta swung high, aiming for its face. Dantes ducked low, blade flashing through its underbelly.
The amulet pulsed again.
Light cracked the fog like a thunderclap.
The beast screeched—then fell apart. Ash and shadow. Gone.
---
Dantes hit the ground, breathing hard, hand pressed to his ribs. Blood. Pain. But still alive.
Alberta fell to her knees beside him, panting. Her cut was deep, her hands shaking, but her eyes—sharp. Determined.
"You're bleeding more than you admitted," she said.
He laughed once. "You're bleeding too."
"I noticed," she muttered, pulling her sleeve tight with her teeth.
She reached for his side again. This time, he didn't stop her.
"Not bad for an untrained fighter," he said.
She met his gaze. "Not bad for someone who keeps telling me to stay back."
He smiled. Faint. Crooked.
Then the voice came.
Not Alberta's.
Not human.
"You were betrayed."
"Your blood was spilled not by war... but by kin."
"Seek the truth. Seek the justice you were denied."
His chest burned—his old scar throbbing like a second heart.
"Dantes?" Alberta's voice again. Gentle. Grounding.
He blinked. The voice vanished.
"…I'm fine," he muttered.
"Lie better," she said, wrapping cloth around his ribs. "You've fooled worse people. You won't fool me."
He looked at her, expression unreadable.
Then: "You're not like I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"I'm not sure. But not this. Not someone who'd throw a stick at a nightmare."
She leaned back, bruised and smiling. "Next time I'll throw you instead."
Dantes laughed. "Careful. I might let you."
They sat side by side, bloodied, breathing, but alive.
The fog began to thin.