The silence in the clearing was deafening. The obelisk loomed tall and forbidding, its surface glistening with a cold, spectral light that seemed to pulse in time with an unseen heartbeat. The runes carved into the stone whispered secrets that Aric could almost grasp, their ancient language tantalizingly familiar. He took a cautious step forward, his boots sinking into the damp earth, eyes fixed on the intricate symbols that glimmered like trapped starlight.
"Careful," Lina murmured, her voice tight with apprehension. She scanned the perimeter, the muscles in her neck taut as a bowstring. The forest's stillness was unnatural, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath.
Ryn's knuckles were white around the handle of the lantern. He felt the oppressive weight of the silence pressing down on him, the light from his flame barely penetrating the suffocating gloom. "Is it safe?" he whispered, though he already knew the answer.
Aric's hand hovered over the surface of the obelisk, inches away from the pulsating runes. A current of cold air passed through his fingers, sharp enough to draw a shiver. He turned to Thom, who stood a few paces behind, eyes wide with a mix of fear and curiosity.
"Thom, the journal," Aric said.
Thom fumbled through his satchel, the leather creaking as he pulled out a worn, weather-stained book. He flipped through the pages, searching for the familiar sketches and notes that had guided them this far. "Here," he said, stepping forward to show Aric the rough drawing of the obelisk. The runes were crudely reproduced, surrounded by scrawled notes that spoke of power, warning, and sacrifice.
"It's the same," Thom confirmed, voice barely above a whisper. "But this part—" he pointed to a passage inked with bold strokes, 'Only the worthy may pass unscathed.'"
"Worthy," Ryn muttered, as if the word itself were a curse. His eyes darted around the clearing, half-expecting the ground to open up beneath them.
Lina's gaze met Aric's, unyielding despite the fear shadowing her face. "We've come too far to turn back," she said. "If we leave now, the village is as good as lost."
Aric nodded, though a pit of dread twisted in his stomach. He reached out and pressed his palm against the obelisk's cool surface. The moment his skin made contact, the runes flared with blinding light, and the clearing was flooded with an unearthly glow.
The ground beneath them trembled, a low rumble that built in intensity. Ryn stumbled back, his lantern swinging wildly and casting chaotic patterns of light and shadow. Thom's hands clenched into fists as he fought to keep his balance.
A voice, deep and resonant, seemed to rise from the very earth, speaking in the same unknown language as the runes. Aric's vision swam, and he struggled to understand the words that hammered into his mind. Images flashed behind his eyes—a towering spire of dark stone, a crown of thorns dripping with blood, a sky fractured by lightning.
Lina's scream cut through the chaos. "Aric, look out!"
He turned just in time to see the spectral figure from before, its form coalescing out of the mist. The cloaked being reached out with skeletal hands that shimmered with the same cold, blue fire as its eyes. Aric stumbled backward, narrowly avoiding the grasp that would have ensnared him.
"Stay back!" he shouted, drawing his blade. It felt pitifully small in the face of such an opponent, but he stood his ground.
The apparition halted, tilting its head as if considering him. Its gaze shifted to Lina, who stood with her own dagger drawn, eyes fierce despite the tremor in her hands.
"You seek to unbind what should remain bound," the figure intoned, its voice echoing in the clearing. The runes on the obelisk pulsed in response, as though agreeing with the specter's warning.
"We seek to save our people," Lina countered, her voice steady. "If that means breaking the curse, so be it."
The figure's eyes flared brighter, and for a moment, silence returned. Then, with a sudden, violent motion, it lunged at Lina. Aric surged forward, intercepting the strike with his blade. The force of the impact sent a shockwave up his arm, numbing it to the shoulder. The specter hissed, recoiling as a thin line of black mist seeped from where the blade had passed through.
"It can be hurt," Aric gasped, the realization dawning with a rush of adrenaline.
Ryn's eyes widened with hope. "Then we can fight it?"
Thom stepped up, his expression hardening as he gripped his own weapon. "We don't have a choice."
The forest around them erupted into motion. The whispers rose into a cacophony, and shadowy shapes slithered through the trees, eyes glinting in the darkness. The air grew colder still, frost crackling at their feet.
Aric exchanged a glance with Lina, and for a heartbeat, time seemed to stop. They both knew the stakes. One wrong move, one moment of hesitation, could mean death—or worse.
"Together," he said.
She nodded, a fierce smile breaking through her fear. "Together."
With a roar, the group charged as one, weapons raised and hearts pounding, into the waiting jaws of Wraithwood's darkness.