The road east was unkind.
What began as a clean-cut leyroad soon twisted into dirt trails, flanked by gnarled trees and whispering winds. The sky dimmed early beneath thick clouds, and the light took on a sickly cast—like twilight before the sun had truly set.
Ava walked ahead, her coat trailing behind her like smoke. Her senses stretched outward, brushing the leyline that ran like a fractured vein beneath the earth. Something was wrong with it. The current stuttered, as if coughing on its own magic.
Behind her, the group remained silent. Adam's heavy steps were steady. Sil clutched her cloak tighter, her silver braid tucked beneath her hood. Ash flicked his blade through the air every few minutes, out of habit. Nicholas walked beside the beast, eyes scanning the forest for signs of movement.
They reached Hearthvale just as dusk bled fully into night.
The village was… wrong.
No lanterns burned in the windows. No firelight flickered in hearths. Houses stood quiet and empty, shutters drawn, doors bolted. A low mist clung to the ground, curling around their boots like fingers.
Nicholas tilted his head. "I smell blood. Old. Maybe a day."
Sil shivered. "Why's it so quiet? There should be… something. Chickens. Wind chimes. Anything."
Ava drew her sword—not for show, but for certainty. The runes etched into the blade pulsed faintly in the mist.
"Spread out," she ordered. "Search in pairs. Ash with Nicholas. Adam, you're with Sil. Beast stays with me."
Ash raised a brow. "You're splitting us up?"
"For now," Ava said. "Two houses each. Regroup in thirty minutes."
They moved without complaint.
Ava and the beast approached the largest home at the village center. The door was ajar. She pushed it open, sword raised.
Inside, the hearth was cold. A spilled bowl of soup hardened on the floor. A child's doll lay abandoned near a bed. But no bodies. Just absence.
Ava knelt, touching the floor. Magic lingered—chaotic, sickly sweet, like rotting flowers.
Behind her, the beast growled low.
"Something's wrong with the leyline here," Ava murmured. "It's tainted. Not just natural corruption—this was done."
She turned, eyes narrowed.
They met again at the well.
Ash arrived first, face grim. "Empty houses. No signs of struggle, just… gone."
Nicholas nodded. "We found claw marks on one door. Like something tore it open."
Sil was pale, her hands trembling. "We heard whispers. In the walls."
Adam stayed close to her, wings half-unfurled in a protective arc.
Ava listened, processing it all. The wind shifted. The mist thickened.
"Everyone fall back," she said. "Get away from the well."
No one hesitated.
As soon as they stepped back, the ground rumbled.
Then the screaming began.
It wasn't human. Not fully. A chorus of layered voices burst from the well, accompanied by black tendrils of magic lashing out like vines.
The beast lunged forward with a snarl, biting one of the tendrils and tearing it apart with a wet crunch. Ash threw a dagger into the air and it exploded in a burst of light, illuminating the village square.
A figure rose from the well.
It wore the shape of a man—but barely. Its skin was etched with corrupted runes, stretched tight over a frame that flickered between shadow and bone. Its eyes glowed purple-blue, like dying stars.
"Leave this place," it hissed. "Or be swallowed."
Ava stepped forward.
Her sword gleamed.
"No," she said. "You leave."
The creature roared.
Battle erupted.
Adam flew, wings wide, crashing into the creature with brutal force. Nicholas moved like wind, slicing at tendrils trying to ensnare Sil. Ash's blades were a blur of silver and fire. The beast lunged and bit, dragging shadows into the earth.
Ava moved through it all like lightning.
She ducked beneath a lashing vine, leapt onto the edge of the well, and drove her blade down into the heart of the corrupted figure. It screamed—not in pain, but in defiance.
Darkness exploded outward.
Sil cried out. A wave of magic hit them, throwing Ash against a wall, knocking Nicholas off his feet. Adam covered Sil with his body, wings shielding her from the blast.
Ava stood firm, her coat torn, her blade buried deep.
"Name yourself," she snarled into the creature's face.
It grinned. "I have no name. I am the echo. The rot beneath the root. The eye that watches through glass."
Ava's eyes narrowed.
She twisted the blade.
The scream that followed shattered windows.
With a final burst of light, the corrupted form crumbled—dust to ash, ash to nothing. The tendrils fell limp. The mist thinned.
Sil gasped. "Is it dead?"
"No," Ava said quietly. "It was a fragment. A servant. Something worse is pulling the strings."
They stood in the silence that followed, broken houses watching them like hollow eyes.
Ash brushed blood from his cheek. "So the quest's not done?"
Ava stared into the well.
"No," she said. "This was just the door. And someone opened it."
She turned to her companions. "We cleanse the leyline tomorrow. Tonight, we fortify. No fire. No light. Watch shifts—two hours each."
They nodded. No one argued.
As they made camp inside the largest house, Ava kept her sword close, her eyes never far from the window. She could still feel it—that watching presence. Far away, but not gone.
Sil curled beside her, silent and scared.
Adam sat near the door, vigilant.
Nicholas and Ash whispered quietly over maps, planning routes and possible traps.
And the beast, ever loyal, kept its gaze on the well.
Ava didn't sleep.
Not yet.