The companions' triumphant return to Luminara was short-lived, overshadowed by the knowledge that Mortis's influence had reached their ranks. The unsettling revelation fanned the flames of suspicion and doubt, casting a pall over their once unbreakable bond.
As they reconvened in the chamber beneath the Crystalline Sanctuary, tension hung heavy in the air. "We can't ignore what we've seen," Elara insisted, her eyes narrowing with resolve. "Mortis's touch is spreading, and Alaric's vulnerability makes him a prime target."
Amelia crossed her arms, her voice tinged with concern. "But how do we know it's truly Alaric and not just another trick from Mortis?"
Grimm's grip on his axe was unwavering. "We confront him. If he's been compromised, we deal with it. We can't afford to let doubt fester."
Lynden's gaze fixed on the floor, lost in thought. "Alaric saved us in the Trials, just as we saved him. I refuse to believe he'd willingly betray us."
The companions found themselves at a crossroads—bound by loyalty yet plagued by uncertainty. The door to the chamber swung open, revealing Alaric's presence. His expression was guarded, betraying a weariness that mirrored the companions' own.
"Alaric," Elara began, her voice softening. "We need to talk. About what we've discovered."
Alaric's brow furrowed, his eyes searching the faces of his companions. "I sense your unease. Speak your mind."
With a heavy sigh, Amelia summarized their suspicions, the visions, and the shadow of Mortis that hung over them. "We're worried that you might be under his influence, Alaric."
Alaric's gaze hardened, and for a moment, his voice wavered. "I've felt a darkness lingering, but I assure you, I've fought against it. My loyalty to our cause remains unwavering."
Grimm stepped forward, his tone stern. "How do we know you're not just saying what Mortis wants you to say?"
Alaric's fists clenched, his knuckles white with frustration. "Because I'm willing to prove it."
The room fell silent, Alaric's gaze locking onto the nearby crystalline formation. With a deep breath, he extended his hand, and an iridescent light began to emanate from his palm. Symbols and sigils materialized in the air, forming a barrier that enveloped him.
"It's a ward of my own design," Alaric explained. "If Mortis's influence were upon me, it would trigger the ward. But I have nothing to hide."
The companions exchanged glances, uncertainty still etched on their faces. Elara stepped forward, her voice laced with empathy. "We stand together, Alaric. We will overcome this darkness, whatever form it takes."
The iridescent light dimmed, and Alaric's barrier dissipated. "Thank you," he said, his gratitude genuine. "We cannot afford to be divided, not now. We must face Mortis united."
As the companions shared a determined nod, the weight of their suspicions began to lift. Yet, in the recesses of their minds, the echoes of darkness persisted, a reminder that even the strongest bonds could be tested by shadows from within.