Kael staggered to his feet, every joint in his body aching as though he had been torn apart and stitched back together. The chill of the forest wrapped around him, but it was nothing compared to the coldness that seemed to have settled deep within his soul. He could still feel the echo of the Stone's power, faint but unsettling, like a dark shadow lingering in the corners of his mind.
Tarin stood a few paces away, watching him closely. His brow was furrowed with concern, but there was also something else in his expression—something akin to fear.
"What happened down there, Kael?" Tarin's voice was low, almost a whisper. "I've never seen anything like it."
Kael didn't know how to answer. The memories of what had transpired in the crypt were hazy, like fragments of a dream he couldn't fully grasp. He remembered the shadows, the voices of the dead, the overwhelming weight of guilt and regret. And the Stone—its cold, consuming power, pulling at the darkest parts of him.
But what he had seen, what he had felt—those were things he wasn't ready to share. Not yet.
"I… don't know," Kael lied, his voice barely audible. "It's hard to explain."
Tarin's eyes narrowed, but he didn't press further. Instead, he glanced around the darkened forest, his posture tense. "We need to move. The village won't be safe for long, not with everything that's happened. Whatever power you tapped into, it's not going unnoticed."
Kael nodded, though his mind was still elsewhere. He could feel something stirring within him, a strange, unnameable force. The shadows that had haunted him for years seemed more distant now, but they hadn't disappeared. They were simply waiting.
As they began their trek through the forest, Kael couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. Every rustle of leaves, every whisper of wind, sent a shiver down his spine. And as they moved deeper into the woods, the trees seemed to grow taller, their branches twisting into grotesque shapes, blocking out the pale moonlight.
"I don't like this," Tarin muttered, glancing around nervously. "We shouldn't have come this way."
But there was no turning back now.
Suddenly, the air grew colder, and Kael's heart skipped a beat as a figure emerged from the shadows ahead. At first, it was nothing more than a silhouette, but as it stepped into the faint light, Kael's breath caught in his throat.
It was a man—tall and gaunt, with long, matted hair and eyes that gleamed like molten silver. His skin was pale, almost sickly, and his clothes were torn and stained with dried blood. He held a rusted blade in one hand, its edge jagged and cruel.
Tarin drew his sword immediately, stepping in front of Kael. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.
The man didn't answer. Instead, he tilted his head, studying Kael with a curious intensity. "You've touched the Stone," he said, his voice rough and gravelly. "I can smell it on you."
Kael's blood ran cold. He stepped forward, pushing past Tarin. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice steadier than he felt.
The man's lips curled into a thin, unsettling smile. "Names are of little importance to those who walk the path of shadows. But you… you've made a grave mistake."
Kael's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword. "What do you want?"
The man's silver eyes flickered with a dark amusement. "The Stone's power is not something to be trifled with, boy. It changes you, warps you into something else. You've taken the first step, but now you must pay the price."
Tarin stepped forward, his sword raised. "If you're looking for trouble, you've found it."
The man laughed, a hollow, eerie sound that sent chills down Kael's spine. "You think your steel can save you? Foolish child."
In a blur of movement, the man lunged forward, faster than Kael could react. Tarin barely had time to raise his sword before the man's rusted blade clashed against his. The force of the impact sent Tarin staggering back, but he quickly regained his footing, his eyes blazing with determination.
Kael drew his sword, his heart pounding in his chest. The air around them seemed to grow thicker, as if the very forest was closing in, watching, waiting.
But the man was too fast. He moved like a shadow, his strikes precise and deadly. Tarin was skilled, but he was quickly being overwhelmed, forced to defend against a relentless onslaught.
Desperation surged through Kael as he watched his friend struggle. He could feel the darkness inside him stirring, a familiar pull that beckoned him to give in, to unleash the power that lay dormant within him.
You cannot resist forever, a voice whispered in his mind. You are already mine.
Kael clenched his jaw, fighting back the urge to surrender to the Stone's influence. But as the battle raged on, he knew he had no choice.
With a sharp breath, he focused on the darkness within him, letting it rise to the surface. His vision blurred for a moment, and the world around him seemed to shift, becoming sharper, more vivid.
And then, with a single motion, he raised his hand.
The air around him crackled with energy as a wave of shadow erupted from his outstretched fingers, striking the man square in the chest. The force of it sent him flying backward, his body slamming into a tree with a sickening thud.
For a moment, everything was still.
Tarin stood frozen, his sword still raised, his eyes wide with shock.
The man lay crumpled on the ground, unmoving.
Kael's hand trembled as the last traces of shadow faded from his skin. His heart raced, and for a moment, he wasn't sure if he had just saved them—or if he had taken the first step down a path he could never return from.
Tarin slowly lowered his sword, his gaze shifting from the fallen man to Kael. "What… what was that?"
Kael didn't answer. He couldn't. All he could think about was the cold, dark power that had just coursed through him—and the terrifying truth that he could feel it still, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed again.