The road out of Ember Hollow was quiet, but the silence felt heavier with each step. Aric kept his eyes on the trail ahead, trying to ignore the weight of the Emberblade on his back and the unease gnawing at him. Something wasn't right. He couldn't put his finger on it, but the air felt thick, charged.
Maelis walked ahead, his movements steady and purposeful. Aric had never seen him so serious. Even in their time together, Maelis had always been a quiet but patient teacher. But now… now there was an urgency in his every step.
"We should reach the village of Greyfall by nightfall," Maelis said without looking back. "It's one of the last places I trust."
"Trust?" Aric repeated, a bitter laugh escaping him. "The last time I trusted someone, I nearly got myself killed."
Maelis stopped and turned to face him. His face was hard, but his eyes were tired. "This is bigger than you and me, Aric. The world's been changing for a long time. People will try to use you, yes but some will help. You need to know who to trust, and who to avoid."
Aric nodded, though part of him still wasn't convinced. Who could he trust now? The only thing that seemed certain was the sword and it didn't feel like something he could control.
They continued on, the path winding through dense forests and across frozen rivers. As they neared the foothills of the Greyfall mountains, the air grew colder. A thin layer of snow had begun to fall, the first signs of the harsh winter to come.
Suddenly, a distant howl echoed through the trees. Aric froze.
"That wasn't a wolf," he said, his voice tight.
Maelis nodded. "No. The Veil has many creatures at its command. We're being watched."
A shadow passed over them a dark shape, just on the edge of their vision. Aric's grip tightened on the sword's hilt.
"I don't want to fight," Aric said, his voice steady but unsure. "I just want to know what's happening."
"You will," Maelis replied, "but first, we need to survive."
Before Aric could respond, the air rippled, and something emerged from the trees tall, cloaked figures with glowing eyes. The Wraithborn. But these weren't the same three from the night before. These were more, their faces twisted in hunger, their weapons drawn.
Maelis stood between Aric and them. "Stay behind me," he ordered.
Aric didn't argue. The flame inside him was stirring again, but this time, it felt different. It felt… darker.
One of the Wraithborn stepped forward, its voice a rasping whisper. "The last Emberblade. Come with us."
"No." Maelis's voice was firm, but his hand tightened on his sword. "You will never have him."
The Wraithborn lunged.
Everything happened in a blur. Aric barely saw Maelis strike just flashes of steel and shadows twisting in the snow. But Aric could feel the power of the Emberblade now, sharper and more dangerous than ever before. His heart raced, his mind screamed at him to stay back, but the sword it called him.
Without thinking, he drew the blade.
Fire exploded from the sword, a blinding wall of flame that engulfed the Wraithborn. They shrieked, twisting in the heat, and then fell silent.
When the flames died, the clearing was empty except for the scorched earth and the smell of ash.
Aric stood, the sword still burning bright in his hands, his chest heaving. His mind was foggy, distant. He had done it again.
Maelis was on his knees, blood staining his tunic, but his gaze was fixed on Aric.
"You've learned too quickly," he said, voice strained. "Too much too soon."
Aric's eyes shifted to the sword in his hand. It felt like it was alive like it had taken something from him. Something important.
The darkness was creeping in.