Silence swallowed the room after the shadow king’s echo faded, leaving the weight of his revelation hanging heavily between us. The war wasn’t over. It had never been. Instead, we’d been running in circles, fighting battles that were nothing more than shadows cast by something far greater, something far more dangerous.
Mal broke the silence first, her voice brittle. “Artifacts? Does this feel like some cruel treasure hunt to you, or am I just losing my mind?”
She crossed her arms, pacing in tight, jerky steps that betrayed her unease. Her earlier frustration was now boiling into panic, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. It felt absurd that after all the fighting, loss, and sacrifices, the answer was to go searching for mythical relics like we were characters in a fairytale.
“We’re not losing our minds.” I let out a slow breath, pressing a hand to my temple as if that would help organize my whirling thoughts. “But I think… I think we’re looking at something way bigger than us.” My words hung in the air, hollow and insufficient.
Mal stopped pacing and turned to me, her sharp green eyes boring into mine. “You do realize how insane this sounds? ‘Find the artifacts.’ That’s it? No guide? No hints? Just-figure it out before the world burns?”
I held up the crystal shard. “This map is our guide.”
She gestured wildly at the now-dim throne. “Oh, sure. Let’s just follow the glowy lines straight to hell. I mean, look how well trusting this place worked out for him!”
Her words hit hard. I closed my fist around the shard, its edges biting into my palm. She wasn’t wrong. The shadow king had wielded immense power, power we could barely fathom, and still, he’d been reduced to nothing but a warning.
“But we don’t have a choice,” I said quietly. “If we walk away now, if we ignore this-” My voice broke, and I tried again. “Whatever’s coming, it won’t just stop. It’ll keep coming, and it’ll swallow everything.”
Mal rubbed the back of her neck, her lips pressed into a thin line. I could tell she wanted to argue, wanted to point out how ridiculous this all sounded. But in her eyes, I saw something else-resignation.
“I hate that you’re right,” she muttered. “And I hate that we have to trust the creepy ghost of a dead king. But fine. Let’s figure out where this stupid map is leading us.”
I exhaled a shaky breath of relief. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Mal said grimly. She gestured to the throne. “Start talking. What are we looking at here?”
I stepped back to the glowing patterns, studying the map again. The lines pulsed faintly now, but their paths were clear. At each intersection was a symbol I didn’t fully understand, though I recognized echoes of old stories. Legends I’d heard as a child, spoken in hushed tones around fires or tucked into the margins of crumbling books.
“The Spire of Valtor,” I murmured, pointing to one of the intersections. “The Weeping Wastes.” My finger traced another. “And… the Cradle of Esharra.” I looked up at Mal. “These are ancient places. Sacred ones. Places tied to old magic.”
“And that’s where we’ll find the artifacts?” she asked, eyeing the map skeptically.
I nodded. “That’s my best guess.”
Mal tilted her head, squinting at one of the intersections. “This one’s close, isn’t it? The Spire. We passed through a region near here a few months ago that had a legend about a tower hidden in the cliffs. Didn’t think much of it then, but now…”
Hope flickered faintly in my chest. “Then that’s where we’ll start.”
Mal sighed, slipping her sword back into its sheath. “All right. But just so we’re clear, if I die chasing after some shiny artifact, I’m haunting you for eternity.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” I said, managing a faint smile.
The forest was darker than before when we stepped out of the lair. The heavy stone door scraped shut behind us, muffling the growls of the creatures outside, but I could still feel their presence, their hatred thick in the air.
We moved quickly, our boots crunching against the forest floor. Every step felt heavier than the last, the oppressive atmosphere of the shadow king’s lair lingering in the air around us. The trees seemed alive, their twisted branches clawing at the sky, and shadows flickered at the edges of my vision. Whether they were real or my imagination, I couldn’t tell.
Mal kept her blade drawn, her fingers flexing around the hilt with every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves. Her unease was infectious. “The Spire’s a few days’ travel from here if we stick to the northern path,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded, clutching the crystal shard tightly. Its surface felt cooler now, the energy inside dormant. Still, I couldn’t shake the sensation that something-or someone-was watching us.
“Do you feel that?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder.
Mal stopped, her eyes scanning the darkened trees. “Feel what?”
“Like we’re being followed.”
Her grip on the sword tightened, and she angled her body to face me, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t start imagining things. The last thing we need is you freaking out.”
“I’m not imagining it,” I insisted. My voice sounded steadier than I felt. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end, and my skin prickled with unease. “There’s something out there.”
She didn’t argue, but she didn’t agree either. Instead, she turned her attention to the forest, moving in a slow circle as if daring whatever it was to show itself. “If there’s something following us,” she said, her voice low, “it’ll regret it.”
I almost believed her confidence-almost.
We pressed on, quickening our pace. The northern path was narrow, winding between jagged rocks and overgrown roots, and the canopy overhead blocked out what little moonlight there was. I stayed close to Mal, her presence an anchor in the oppressive darkness. Still, the feeling of being hunted lingered, the weight of unseen eyes pressing against my back.
“Do you hear that?” Mal stopped abruptly, holding up a hand to silence me.
I strained my ears, and there it was-a faint rustling, too deliberate to be the wind. It was coming from our left, from somewhere deep in the trees.
Mal motioned for me to stay behind her as she stepped forward, sword raised. “Come out,” she called, her voice hard and commanding. “Whatever you are, show yourself!”
The rustling stopped. For a moment, the silence was suffocating, stretching out so long that I wondered if Mal had imagined it after all. Then the shadows shifted, and a figure emerged from the trees.
It was humanoid, but only just. Its skin was mottled and gray, its body twisted unnaturally. Its eyes glowed faintly, a sickly yellow light that sent a shiver down my spine. It carried no weapon, but its long, claw-like fingers looked sharp enough to tear through flesh.
“What the hell is that?” Mal muttered, taking a step back.
I swallowed hard, my pulse racing. The creature tilted its head, regarding us with a strange, unsettling curiosity. Then, without warning, it lunged.
Mal moved faster than I thought possible, her blade flashing as she met the creature head-on. Their clash echoed through the forest, the metallic scrape of her sword against its claws filling the air. I stumbled back, the shard still clutched in my hand as I tried to make sense of the chaos.
“Help would be nice!” Mal yelled, dodging a swipe from the creature that left deep gouges in the tree beside her.
I fumbled for the dagger at my belt, my heart pounding. Before I could move, the crystal shard in my hand began to glow faintly, its light pulsing in time with the rapid thrum of my heartbeat. I didn’t understand it, but I didn’t have time to question. I pointed the shard at the creature, the way someone might brandish a weapon.
The creature hesitated, its glowing eyes narrowing as if it recognized the shard. Mal took the opportunity to strike, her blade slicing across its chest. The creature howled, a guttural sound that made the trees tremble.
It didn’t flee. Instead, it turned to me, its gaze locked on the shard.