The clearing stretched out before us, its silence unnerving. Low stone ruins rose unevenly from the moss-covered ground, their once-grand forms reduced to crumbled edges and hollow alcoves. A faint mist coiled around the remnants, lending the place a haunting, forgotten air.
“This is it,” I murmured, the orb in my hands thrumming like a heartbeat. Its glow was steady now, focused on the central structure-a jagged spire of black stone that thrust out of the ground like a shard of glass. Runes flickered weakly along its surface, their light pulsing in tandem with the orb’s rhythm.
Logan stepped forward, scanning the surroundings with cautious eyes. “Looks quiet.”
Mal scoffed. “Quiet never means good. Last time it was quiet, a molten horror nearly fried us alive.”
Liam nodded, though his gaze remained fixed on the spire. “She’s right. This place reeks of old magic. Something’s waiting.”
“Then we don’t waste time,” Logan said, glancing at me. “Audrey, the orb’s reacting to that thing. What do you think we’re supposed to do?”
I hesitated, stepping closer to the spire. The closer I came, the louder the orb’s hum became, almost like it was eager. Reaching out, I let my fingers brush the cold surface of the black stone. A pulse shot through my hand like a lightning bolt, and I stumbled back.
Logan caught me before I fell. “What happened?”
“It… it’s connected to the orb,” I said, gasping to steady myself. “But it’s not whole. The fragment’s inside, but there’s a barrier. I felt it the second I touched it.”
Mal frowned, pulling a knife and tapping the flat edge against her palm. “And how do we get through it? Smash it? Slice it? Blow it up?”
“No,” Liam said quickly. “If this barrier is tied to the void or the balance, brute force might cause more harm than good. We need to-” He cut himself off, his eyes narrowing as he pointed at a faint glow on the ground surrounding the spire. “Look. The runes. They’re forming a pattern.”
I knelt beside him, studying the faint markings. The runes spread outward in uneven lines, forming a large, incomplete sigil. Something about its shape struck a chord in me, a distant memory surfacing from my connection with the orb.
“It’s a lock,” I said quietly. “The runes create a ward over the spire. We have to complete the sigil to break it.”
“That’s it?” Mal asked, her tone skeptical. “Just draw some magic symbols and we’re good?”
“Not quite,” Liam replied, brushing his fingers over the faded runes. “These are tied to ancient energy. Completing the sigil won’t just take drawing skill-it’s going to require a lot of focused power. Audrey, that’s where you come in.”
I felt my heart sink at the weight of his words. “You think the orb can unlock it?”
“I don’t think it’s a question of if it can,” Logan interjected. “It’s a question of if you can handle it. Every time you connect with this thing, it drains you.”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, more to convince myself than anyone else. “If completing this sigil is the only way to get the fragment, I’ll do it.”
Logan opened his mouth as if to argue but stopped, nodding reluctantly. “We’ll cover you. Whatever happens, you won’t be on your own.”
With that, the others positioned themselves around the perimeter, weapons at the ready. Liam knelt beside me, holding a faintly glowing piece of chalk he’d retrieved from his pack. “We start with the central lines,” he instructed. “The runes will react to the orb’s energy. Just focus on the pattern, and I’ll help guide the flow.”
I took the chalk from him with trembling fingers. The moment its tip touched the cold stone, the orb flared brightly in my other hand. Its energy surged through me, more intense than I’d felt before, and I gritted my teeth against the onslaught.
“You’re doing fine,” Liam said softly, steadying me with a hand on my shoulder. “Just keep going.”
I traced the sigil with slow precision, each line shimmering to life as the orb’s glow pulsed in time with my movements. It felt like carving into reality itself, each stroke leaving a tangible weight behind. The forest around us seemed to hold its breath, the air growing unnaturally still.
Then the whispers began.
Faint at first, they rose like a chorus of shadows, their murmured words slithering into my mind. Promises, warnings, fragments of language I couldn’t fully understand. The runes on the ground flickered erratically, reacting to the shift in energy.
“Audrey!” Logan’s voice broke through the haze. “What’s happening?”
“The void’s trying to stop her,” Liam answered grimly. He turned to Mal. “Stay ready. If the barrier breaks early, we’ll need to hold off whatever comes through.”
Mal tightened her grip on her knives, her eyes scanning the edges of the clearing. “Gladly.”
The whispers grew louder, drowning out even my own thoughts. I struggled to keep my focus, my hands shaking as I drew the final lines. The runes along the sigil flared with brilliant light, connecting in a seamless pattern.
Then, silence.
The barrier shattered like glass, fragments of light scattering into the air. The spire groaned, its surface cracking as the fragment within revealed itself. A shard of pure crystalline light floated upward, its glow radiating warmth and power.
But the triumph was short-lived.
The shadows at the edge of the clearing surged forward, coalescing into a towering figure wreathed in void energy. Its form was vaguely humanoid but grotesquely twisted, its limbs unnaturally long and dripping with inky blackness.
“No rest for the wicked,” Mal muttered, stepping in front of me.
Logan drew his blade, his golden eyes blazing as he faced the creature. “Audrey, take the fragment. We’ll hold it off!”
I didn’t argue. Scrambling to my feet, I reached for the fragment. The second my fingers closed around it, the same overwhelming energy flooded me, but this time it felt different-calmer, more controlled. The orb’s pulse synchronized with the fragment’s, the two merging seamlessly.
The creature let out a deafening roar, lurching toward us.
Logan and Mal met it head-on, their attacks synchronized and ferocious. Liam cast defensive runes, creating shimmering barriers that slowed the creature’s strikes, giving the others a chance to land their blows.