The Shadow Forest was behind them, but the dread seemed to linger a little bit with Jasper and his friends as they made their way eastward.
They had destroyed another of Malachar's altars but had won at a heavy price: Lyra's magic reserves were just about depleted, and Finn carried a nasty wound across his leg from a rogue shadow beast's strike.
But they were hurt, and weary. There was no time to rest. Malachar's wrath would surely be swift; they must keep out of sight of him.
The group trudged on uneven plains extending beyond the forest, the heavy silence was relieved only by the sound of their footsteps and the gusty howl of the wind.
Jasper felt the weight of responsibility sitting heavily upon his shoulders. Every step forward seemed to be much heavier than the one before.
We're exposed here," Finn muttered, wincing as he leaned on his staff for support. "If Malachar sends his forces after us, we won't see them coming until it's too late."
Raylan glanced over his shoulder, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. "He's not a fool. If he attacks, it'll be when we're at our weakest. We need to keep moving.
Lyra, walking a few feet behind him, spoke in a strained tone, "We have been on the move for hours, Raylan. Finn's hurt, and I am almost out of magic....If we keep this pace, we will collapse well before we reach the next altar."
Raylan skidded to a sudden stop and whirled around. "And if we stop now, we risk getting caught. You'd like Malachar's hunters to stumble upon us while we are sleeping?
The tension was palpable between them. Jasper stepped forward, raising a hand to placate both sides. "Enough." He shouted.
"We can't start turning on each other now. Let's compromise-rest for a short while, just long enough for Finn to catch his breath and for Lyra to recover some energy. Then we move again."
Raylan hesitated but finally nodded. "Fine. But no more than an hour."
The group huddled under the large, rocky ledge with jagged edges, part of which did the job of keeping the ripping wind at bay.
Lyra sat on the floor immediately after her eyes started to close, meditating, her hands faintly glowing as she replenished her dwindling magic reserves.
Finn stood leaning against the rock, pale-skinned but determined, while Jasper watched with Raylan.
Everything around them was quiet, still, almost as if it held its breath, and Jasper had this nagging feeling that they were being watched.
His hand sat on the hilt of his sword, his eyes scanning the open plains for any sign of anything.
"I don't like this," he muttered to Raylan.
"You're not alone," Raylan replied, voice low. "This area is too quiet... It's like the land itself knows we don't belong here."
A figure materialized on the horizon, summoned it would seem, and began to walk towards them.
At first, Jasper thought that it was a traveler, but something was off about the way it moved closer. There was something subtly unnatural, yet moving just right for them not to quite take in the signal.
It was like a shadow dancing at the whim of wind.
"Everyone, ready yourselves," said Raylan, his hand disappearing beneath his cape, out again with his sword.
Lyra opened her eyes, and Finn struggled to his feet, clutching tightly onto his staff. The figure halted a few paces away from their shelter, features indistinguishable beneath a dark hooded cloak. When it spoke, its voice was cold and emotionless.
"You are brave to venture this far, but bravery alone will not save you."
"Who are you?" Raylan demanded, stepping forward.
The figure chuckled, the sound empty and cold. "A messenger. Malachar has seen your progress, and he offers you a chance to end this foolishness. Surrender now, and he may yet spare your lives."
Jasper felt his anger rise. "Spare our lives? After everything he's done? After all the lives he's destroyed? We'll never surrender to him!"
The figure spoke, his voice taking on an even darker tone. "Then you seal your fate."
Before anyone could even move, the figure raised its hand, and the air around it seemed to crackle with dark energy.
Tendrils of shadow erupted from the ground, snaking with terrifying speed toward the group.
"Scatter!" Raylan yelled, slicing at one of the tendrils with his sword.
Jasper dove to the side, narrowly avoiding a flailing tendril. He rolled to his feet and drew his own sword-the blade was glowing faintly as he channeled his magic into it-and swung at the nearest tendril, cutting through it in a burst of light.
Lyra raised her staff, and a shield of protection flared into place around her and Finn. The tendrils pummeled the barrier, but she held steady, her face white with concentration.
"Jasper, lock onto the figure!" Raylan yelled as he cut through another tendril.
Jasper nodded and then turned to the cloaked figure, which was still standing still with its hands up, controlling the tendrils.
Gritting his teeth, Jasper charged forward as his glowing sword brightened further with each step.
It seemed to sense his approach and turned in his direction. A surge of dark energy shot towards him; he raised his sword, and in a flash of light, it managed to deflect it.
Closing the distance in one swift movement, Jasper swung his blade at the figure's chest.
But to his surprise, the figure didn't move to dodge; instead, Jasper's blade passed through it as if it weren't solid at all. The figure chuckled once more; its form flickered like a shadow.
"You cannot kill what is not real," it said, its voice dripping with mockery.
"Well, then, let's see if this is real enough!" Lyra shouted, hurling a bolt of light magic toward the figure.
The figure was struck by the light, its shape fluttering for a moment. Jasper felt his opening and sprang forward as his sword flashed down in a wide arc.
This time, the blade bit home, and the figure let out a hiss of pain as it seemed to dissolve into shadows.
The tendrils vanished, and the clearing was silent once again.
Jasper panted, still clenching his luminous sword. "What… what was that thing?"
"A shadow construct," Raylan said dourly, sheathing his sword. "A creation of Malachar's magic. It wasn't real in the traditional sense, but it was dangerous enough."
Finn sank back to the ground, pale-faced. "If that was just a messenger, I don't even want to think about what else Malachar might send after us.
Lyra nodded, her face clouded with worry. "He's playing with us, trying to determine how strong we are. He knows we are coming for him."
Jasper balled his fists. "Allow him to try and test us. Allow him to send whatever he wills... We will destroy every single altar, every guardian, until there is nothing left for him to hide behind."
Raylan laid a hand on his shoulder. "I admire the determination, Jasper, but let's think this through.
Malachar is getting desperate, and desperate is when your enemies get really dangerous."
Jasper nodded, begrudgingly knowing that Raylan was right. They couldn't afford to have their emotions get in the way of their judgment when the stakes were so high.
As the others prepared to move onward, Jasper cast one last glance at the spot where the shadow figure had stood.
Shaken was possibly the perfect word for how the encounter had left him, yet it hardened his resolve. No matter what Malachar threw at them, they would face it together.
It would be a long and unsure path forward, but one thing Jasper knew for sure was that they wouldn't stop until Malachar was defeated and their world free from his darkness.