The streets of Varnath exhaled an eerie stillness, the fog so thick it seemed to swallow every sound. Liyana's boots scraped against the cobblestone with each step, her breath misting in the perpetual twilight that clung to the city like a second skin. She pulled her coat tighter around herself, though it wasn't the cold gnawing at her. It was the weight of the blood magic still simmering under her skin, pulsing faintly with every heartbeat.
How did I let it get this far? she wondered, her fingers twitching inside her pockets as if they could still feel the residue of the ancient power she had unleashed in the mausoleum. She had felt it all—powerful, raw, dangerous. But now, in the quiet of the haunted streets, all she felt was drained. And scared.Next to her, Malik walked with quiet determination, his cane tapping rhythmically on the ground, a subtle reminder of his calm presence. He hadn't said much since they left the mausoleum. That was Malik's way—he didn't need to speak to make her feel the weight of his disapproval. But tonight, the silence between them felt heavier, like there was more he wanted to say but didn't. Or couldn't.Liyana cleared her throat, her voice breaking the stillness. "You've been quiet," she said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. Her tone was light, but there was an edge to it, a question she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to.Malik's lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tightening for just a moment. "I've been thinking," he replied, his voice low, almost absent. His cane clicked against the cobblestones, a subtle reminder that he was navigating more than just the fog tonight."About what?" she asked, though she had a feeling she already knew.Malik didn't answer right away. His face remained unreadable, but the tension in his posture gave him away. He wasn't good at hiding his thoughts from her—not after all these years. He stopped walking for a moment, the mist curling around his legs like ghostly tendrils, before exhaling softly. "About you. About..." He paused, searching for the right words. "What happened back there."Liyana clenched her jaw, turning her gaze back toward the empty street ahead. Of course. She should have known Malik wouldn't let it slide. He never did. But what did he expect? She didn't exactly have a choice back there."I didn't have a choice, Malik," she said quietly, her voice sharper than she intended. "We both would've been dead if I hadn't used the magic. You saw what that thing was capable of."Malik started walking again, his cane tapping against the stones. He was silent for a long time, his face set in that maddeningly calm expression of his, the one that said he was trying to keep from saying what he really thought. Finally, he spoke, his tone measured but heavy. "I'm not saying you had a choice, Liyana. I just..." He hesitated again, his voice dropping. "I worry. About what it's doing to you."Liyana bit back a sigh. Of course he's worried. He always was. It was one of the things she loved about him, but tonight, it felt like a weight she couldn't bear. She didn't need to be reminded of what the magic was doing to her. She could feel it, humming under her skin, whispering to her in the quiet moments when no one else could hear. The more she used it, the harder it was to push it down."I can handle it," she said, forcing her voice to sound confident, though the words tasted bitter. She wasn't sure who she was trying to convince—Malik or herself.Malik stopped walking again, turning to face her. His eyes, though clouded by his limited sight, seemed to cut through her with a clarity that left her feeling exposed. "Can you?" he asked, his voice soft but steady. "Because every time you tap into that magic, I see it pulling you further away. And I'm not sure how much longer you can hold on before it consumes you."Liyana's throat tightened, a mix of anger and fear bubbling up inside her. He doesn't understand. He couldn't. He didn't know what it felt like—to have that kind of power right at your fingertips, knowing you could control it, use it, but also knowing it could devour you if you weren't careful.She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the knot forming in her chest. "You don't get it, Malik. I don't want to use the magic, but we didn't have time. That revenant—""I know what that revenant was," Malik interrupted, his voice sharper than usual, though he kept his tone low. "But this isn't just about tonight, Liyana. It's about the pattern. Every time we deal with something like this, you use a little more of that blood magic, and every time, it gets harder for you to stop. I'm just—" He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm worried about what happens when you can't stop."Liyana's chest tightened. The worst part was, she knew he was right. The magic was addictive, seductive in a way that terrified her. Every time she tapped into it, it felt like a part of her was slipping away, but she had to believe she could keep it under control. If she didn't believe that, she had nothing.She forced a smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm still me, Malik. I'm not going to lose myself. Not over this."Malik didn't look convinced. His grip tightened on his cane, his knuckles white against the dark wood. "I hope you're right." He didn't say anything else, but the weight of his words lingered in the air between them.They continued walking in silence, the fog swirling around them like a living thing, and Liyana felt the tension settling over her like a heavy cloak. The magic still buzzed under her skin, and despite everything, she couldn't shake the feeling that Malik was right. How long can I keep this up?"Do you trust him?" Malik asked suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was quiet, almost casual, but Liyana knew better."Who?" she asked, though she knew exactly who he was talking about."Rowan," Malik said, his tone flat. "You trust him?"Liyana's heart skipped a beat. Trust. That word felt heavier now, especially when it came to Rowan. She didn't answer right away, her mind racing as she tried to piece together her feelings. Rowan was... complicated. Powerful, yes. Dangerous, definitely. But trust? That was something else entirely."I need him," she said, choosing her words carefully. Do I trust him? No. But admitting that felt like exposing a vulnerability she wasn't ready to confront.Malik let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Needing him and trusting him are two different things, Liyana." He stopped walking, turning to face her. His eyes—though distant—seemed to pierce through her, reading her better than anyone ever could. "Just be careful, okay? Rowan... he's not like us."Liyana swallowed, the weight of his words sinking in. She knew what Malik meant, but she also knew that, for now, Rowan was necessary. Whatever was happening in Varnath, whatever was pulling the dead from their graves and unleashing revenants into the streets, they needed Rowan's power to stop it."I know," Liyana said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced down at her hands, flexing her fingers. The magic still hummed there, faint but insistent. She could feel the edges of it, always lurking, always waiting. "I'll be careful."They continued walking, the fog parting just enough to reveal the outline of an old building looming ahead. The sight of it sent a chill down Liyana's spine—an old necromancer's guild, abandoned for decades. The stone walls were cracked and covered in ivy, the windows broken and dark. But the magic here... it was thick, potent, and familiar. It hung in the air like the scent of decay, and Liyana could feel it tugging at her senses, drawing her in.Malik paused beside her, his cane tapping softly against the ground. "This is it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is where the next revenant was seen."Liyana's heart pounded in her chest as she stared up at the building. Another revenant. The same darkness. The same power. She could feel it already, thrumming beneath the surface of the city, waiting to be unleashed."Let's see what we're dealing with," she muttered, her pulse quickening as they stepped toward the entrance. The necromancer's guild loomed in front of them like a decaying sentinel, its broken windows staring out over the fog-filled streets. The stone walls were ancient, cracked, and covered with ivy that had long since choked out any life that might have once dared to flourish here. The air itself felt thick, as though it was holding its breath, waiting.Liyana hesitated at the threshold, her fingers brushing the iron gate that hung crooked on its hinges. The magic here was stronger than she had anticipated—old and clinging to the very stones, thick with the weight of years spent gathering dust and power. She could almost taste it in the air, metallic and sharp, like the scent of blood just before it begins to clot."This place is worse than I expected," Malik muttered, his voice low, his eyes narrowed as he scanned the surrounding shadows. His cane tapped once against the stone steps, a subtle reminder of his presence, steady as ever, but Liyana could feel the tension in him. He was good at hiding it, but not from her."Welcome to the dark heart of Varnath," Liyana replied, though the joke fell flat even to her own ears. Not much room for humor when you're about to step into a necromancer's graveyard, she thought, pulling the collar of her coat tighter against the chill that had nothing to do with the weather.Malik gave her a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. "And here I thought you loved poking around places like this. You know, for the thrill of almost dying every time."Liyana smirked, though it was half-hearted. "Well, I do enjoy the challenge. But, I've got to say, I could live without the part where ancient spirits try to rip me apart. Call me old-fashioned."They both stood there for a moment longer, staring at the entrance to the building as though it might lurch forward and swallow them whole. Liyana felt her pulse quicken, her magic stirring uncomfortably beneath her skin. There was something wrong about this place—something more than just old magic. The darkness here wasn't just an absence of light; it was alive, shifting, watching."You feel that?" Malik asked quietly, his cane tapping again as though to ground him. "The magic here... it's twisted."Liyana nodded, her throat tightening. She didn't need to be told that. She had felt it the moment they'd stepped into the shadow of the building. There was something wrong with the magic here—something far darker than what she had felt before. This isn't just about revenants, she realized, her stomach knotting with unease. Something else is feeding this place."Let's get this over with," she muttered, stepping forward. The gate creaked ominously as she pushed it open, the sound reverberating through the empty streets like a warning bell. Malik followed close behind, his cane barely making a sound as it tapped against the stones.Inside, the building was worse. The moment they crossed the threshold, the air thickened, oppressive, almost tangible in its weight. The walls were lined with ancient symbols, worn down by time but still humming faintly with old magic. The floor was covered in dust, though it didn't look like the place had been disturbed in years. Yet, Liyana couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't alone."Who do you think used this place?" Malik asked, his voice barely above a whisper as they moved deeper into the guild. His hand rested on the hilt of a small blade hidden in his coat—a habit, Liyana knew, from years of walking into places like this.Liyana ran her fingers lightly over the stone walls, feeling the grooves where the symbols had been carved. "Old necromancers," she murmured, her voice quiet but firm. "Back when the guilds were still in power. They would have used this place for... rituals. The darker kind. The ones that weren't sanctioned by the council." Her stomach churned at the thought.Malik frowned, his brow furrowing. "And what would they need a place like this for now?"Liyana didn't answer right away. Instead, she knelt down near the center of the room, brushing away a layer of dust with her hand. Beneath it, etched into the stone, was a large symbol—a circle with jagged lines cutting through it, surrounded by smaller runes. The moment her fingers touched the symbol, she felt it—a sharp jolt of magic that shot through her arm, burning hot and cold at the same time.She yanked her hand back, her heart racing. "This isn't just a guild," she whispered, staring at the symbol with wide eyes. "It's a conduit.""A conduit?" Malik repeated, his voice tense. He knelt beside her, his expression grim. "For what?"Liyana shook her head, her pulse thudding in her ears. "For something ancient. Something that shouldn't be here."The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. This wasn't just about revenants, or resurrections. Someone—or something—was pulling on the threads of magic in Varnath, manipulating the boundaries between life and death. And whatever they were trying to summon, she thought, her chest tightening, was far more dangerous than she had imagined.Malik stood, his jaw clenched. "So what do we do?"Liyana glanced around the room, her mind racing. The symbols on the walls, the heavy magic in the air—it was all connected, woven together like a web. They had to find the source. And stop it."We start by finding whoever left this here," she said, her voice firm despite the fear gnawing at her insides. "And we stop them before they can finish whatever they started."Malik nodded, his expression grim. But before they could move, a low, guttural sound echoed from the shadows at the far end of the room.Liyana froze, her heart leaping into her throat. Malik's hand went to his blade, his body tensing."We're not alone," Malik muttered, his voice low.Liyana swallowed hard, her magic surging to the surface, ready to respond. Of course we're not alone. It was Varnath, after all.