The mist hung thick and cloying, curling around us as if it had a will of its own. The sunlight, weak and filtered through the haze, barely reached the ground, leaving the path ahead a patchwork of shifting shadows. The creatures' bodies were gone, dissolved into dark puddles that soaked into the earth, but their guttural cries still echoed in my ears.
"We need to move," Lyra said, her voice low but urgent. Her sword was still in her hand, and she kept glancing over her shoulder, her gaze darting to every flicker of movement in the fog.
I nodded, gripping the hilt of my own blade. The runes that had flared so brightly during the fight were dull now, but the faint warmth of the pendant at my chest hadn't faded. It was a reminder that whatever we'd faced back there was only the beginning.
The road dipped further into the valley, the mist growing denser with every step. The trees lining the path were ancient and gnarled, their twisted branches reaching toward us like skeletal hands. The air smelled of damp earth and something metallic, a sharp tang that set my teeth on edge.
"What do you think they were?" I asked finally, breaking the silence.
Lyra didn't answer immediately. Her eyes were fixed on the path ahead, her expression unreadable. "Not watchers," she said eventually. "But not human either. Something between."
"That doesn't help," I muttered.
"It's all I've got," she snapped, her tone sharper than I'd expected. She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "They weren't natural, Aric. That much is obvious. Something made them—something powerful. And whatever it is, it's still out there."
Her words settled over me like a weight. The thought of facing something even stronger than those creatures—something that could create them—made the pendant's warmth feel more like a warning than a comfort.
The path twisted sharply, leading us to the edge of a ravine. The ground here was rocky, the mist swirling in eddies around jagged stones and patches of withered grass. A narrow bridge of crumbling stone spanned the gap, its surface slick with moisture.
Lyra stopped, her gaze fixed on the bridge. "This is new."
"What do you mean?"
She pointed to the base of the bridge where faint markings glowed in the mist—a series of sigils carved into the stone, their shapes intricate and unfamiliar.
"Magic," she said.
"Dangerous?"
"Not yet."
I wasn't sure how to feel about that answer, but there wasn't another way forward. Lyra stepped onto the bridge first, her movements cautious. The stone groaned under her weight but held.
"Careful," she called over her shoulder.
I followed, keeping my eyes on the faint sigils that pulsed beneath our feet. The air felt heavier here, thick with an energy that made my skin prickle. Halfway across, I felt the pendant grow warmer, its pulse quickening.
"Do you feel that?" I asked.
Lyra nodded, her hand on her sword. "Something's wrong."
A low growl rose from the ravine, reverberating through the stone beneath our feet. The sound was deep and guttural, like the rumble of distant thunder.
"Keep moving," Lyra said, her voice tight.
We quickened our pace, the growl growing louder with every step. The mist around us seemed to thicken, coiling like smoke, and I caught glimpses of something shifting in the shadows below—a massive shape moving through the fog.
The growl turned into a roar, and the bridge shook violently.
"Run!" Lyra shouted.
We sprinted the rest of the way, the bridge cracking beneath us. Just as we reached the other side, the stone gave way, collapsing into the ravine with a deafening crash. I turned, my heart pounding, and saw the creature emerge from the mist below.
It was massive, its body covered in slick, black scales that shimmered faintly in the dim light. Its eyes glowed a pale white, and its jaws were lined with jagged teeth. It reared up, letting out another roar that shook the ground beneath our feet.
"What is that?" I gasped.
"Something we're not fighting," Lyra said, grabbing my arm. "Move!"
We ran, the creature's roars echoing behind us. The mist seemed to follow, chasing us up the path as we scrambled over rocks and roots. My lungs burned, and my legs ached, but I didn't dare slow down.
Finally, we broke free of the valley, the mist thinning as the ground leveled out. We collapsed onto a patch of dry grass, gasping for breath.
"What was that?" I asked again, my voice ragged.
Lyra shook her head, her expression grim. "A guardian, maybe. Or something worse."
"Guardian?"
"Some places have them," she said. "Old magic left behind to keep intruders out. If that's what it was, we were lucky it didn't follow us."
I stared back at the valley, the faint hum of the pendant still echoing in my chest. "If that was luck, I don't want to know what bad luck feels like."
Lyra gave a dry laugh, though it lacked humor. "Get used to it, Vanguard. This isn't the last time something like that will happen."
The way she said it made my stomach twist, but I didn't argue. The road ahead stretched toward the horizon, and the faint outline of a city's walls was just visible in the distance.
Ebonreach.
We were getting closer, but with every step forward, the shadows around us seemed to grow darker.