Their escape led them to a clearing, where the ruins of a village stood. The air was thick with the stench of decay, and the houses looked as though they'd been abandoned for centuries.
"This place doesn't feel right," Alysia said, her voice trembling.
"It isn't," Aragos replied, his gaze scanning the area.
They found shelter in an old inn, but the safety was an illusion. That night, Alysia woke to find the room filled with ghostly apparitions, their hollow eyes staring at her.
"Aragos," she whispered, shaking him awake.
He bolted upright, his eyes narrowing. "Stay still."
The ghosts moved closer, their spectral hands reaching out.