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The journey toward Valthera was far from uneventful. The land around them, though vast and seemingly empty, held a constant, looming sense of danger. The trees in the distance, twisted and blackened, whispered with the winds, as if keeping secrets from the world. The air was thick with an unsettling stillness that made Kaelen's senses sharp. He could feel it—the tension in the air, the unease creeping through his veins like the hum of an invisible current.
They had been traveling for hours now, and the sun was beginning its descent. Dorian had proven to be an affable companion, cracking jokes and keeping the mood light, but Kaelen noticed the glances the others exchanged when Dorian wasn't looking. Something was off with them, and Kaelen knew better than to ignore that feeling.
Lira, the silver-haired woman, kept to herself, her gaze always sharp and calculating, as if she were constantly analyzing everything around them. Garak, on the other hand, was a man of few words, but his steady silence spoke volumes. There was a power in his quiet demeanor, a strength that Kaelen couldn't quite place.
As they reached the edge of a dense thicket, Dorian slowed his pace and turned to Kaelen. "*You know,*" he said with a wry grin, "*you've been pretty quiet since we started traveling together. Are you always this mysterious, or is it just the company that's got you on edge?*"
Kaelen didn't answer immediately. He wasn't sure if he trusted them enough to share the full extent of what he was feeling. But he knew Dorian was right—there was something about this place, something in the air, that didn't sit right.
"*I don't talk much unless there's something worth saying,*" Kaelen replied, his voice low.
Dorian raised an eyebrow but didn't push the issue. "*Fair enough. But just so you know, there's no need to keep your guard up around us. You're traveling with friends, not enemies.*"
Kaelen didn't respond. *Friendship?* The word tasted strange on his tongue. He had never had the luxury of friends—not in the way Dorian seemed to imply. People were either tools to be used or obstacles to overcome. There was no in-between.
But maybe that was the problem.
"*The world's a dangerous place,*" Garak spoke for the first time in hours, his deep voice rumbling through the air like distant thunder. "*And trust is a currency that's often in short supply. I don't trust easily, but I know when someone's got their back against the wall, and when they need help.*"
Kaelen looked at him, taking in his words. Garak's gaze was intense, almost too knowing. It reminded him of the way people looked at him when they sensed his power—curious, wary, and a little afraid. He couldn't tell if Garak saw something in him or if he was simply speaking from experience.
"*You're not wrong,*" Kaelen admitted. "*I don't trust easily, either. But that doesn't mean I'm unwilling to work with others. I've just learned to be careful.*"
Garak gave a small nod. "*Smart. Very smart. Out here, caution keeps you alive.*"
The conversation trailed off, and the group continued their trek, the silence growing heavier with each step. The further they ventured into the wilderness, the more Kaelen's instincts screamed at him. There was something lurking in the shadows, something he couldn't quite pinpoint. It was as if the very land itself was watching them, waiting for the right moment to strike.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, dark shadows across the path. The air grew colder, and a low, distant growl rumbled in the distance.
Kaelen's hand instinctively went to his sword, and he felt his anger stirring beneath the surface. It wasn't just a monster—he could feel it. There was something... unnatural about the sound.
Lira stepped forward, her silver hair shimmering in the fading light. "*We're not alone.*"
Kaelen tensed, his eyes scanning the woods around them. "*What is it?*"
Lira didn't answer at first. Instead, she glanced at Garak, who had already begun scanning their surroundings, his hand resting on the hilt of his massive axe. Dorian, too, had fallen silent, his playful demeanor gone as he shifted into a more alert stance.
Then, from the underbrush, a figure stepped out into the clearing. It was a tall, gaunt figure—shrouded in dark, tattered robes, with glowing eyes that burned like embers in the night.
The creature was humanoid, but its skin was an unnatural shade of gray, almost like stone. It moved with a fluid grace that belied its disturbing appearance, its long fingers twitching as if searching for something—or someone.
"*What is that thing?*" Kaelen muttered, his sword half-drawn.
Dorian stepped forward, his usual bravado gone. "*A shade.*" He spat the word as if it were poison. "*One of the lesser spirits that haunt these lands. They feed on fear and anger. Keep your wits about you.*"
"*They're not just creatures of darkness,*" Garak added, his voice steady. "*They're a test. A trial of your mind. They'll use your emotions against you if you let them.*"
Kaelen's grip tightened on his sword as the shade took another step closer. The air grew thick with an oppressive energy, and Kaelen could feel his anger rising again, fueled by the creature's presence. It was like the shade had tapped into something deep within him—something that resonated with its very existence.
The shade's glowing eyes locked onto Kaelen, and for a brief moment, he felt an intense pull—a desire to lash out, to destroy the thing before him. But he held his ground, forcing himself to calm the storm inside him. He couldn't let it control him.
The shade's voice was a soft hiss, a whisper that seemed to slip into Kaelen's mind.
"*You carry such rage within you, mortal.*" The voice was melodic, but cold, filled with malice. "*So much anger... it calls to me.*"
Kaelen's vision blurred for a moment as his emotions swelled. The anger, the frustration, the loneliness—it all bubbled to the surface.
But just as he felt himself slipping, a quiet voice broke through the chaos. It was Lilith. *Focus, Kaelen. Don't let it control you.*
He took a deep breath, grounding himself. The shade's hold on him began to loosen, but not without a fight.
"*I don't fear you,*" Kaelen said, his voice steady. "*And I don't fear my anger either.*"
With a surge of strength, he raised his sword, prepared to strike.
But before he could move, Lira's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "*Kaelen, wait!*"
The shade froze, its form shuddering as it seemed to reconsider. Lira stepped forward, her hands raised, palm-out toward the creature. "*You're not here for a fight. You want something else. Tell us what it is.*"
The shade's eyes flickered, and for a moment, Kaelen thought he saw something in them—something like... recognition.
"*I seek the one who carries the power of the storm,*" the shade whispered, its voice echoing in their minds. "*The one whose rage can tear the world asunder. The one who will awaken the final trial.*"
Kaelen's heart skipped a beat. *The final trial?*
Before he could ask, the shade vanished, dissolving into the night air like smoke, leaving the group in stunned silence.
Dorian was the first to speak. "*Did that thing just mention... the final trial?*"
Lira's gaze was distant, her eyes narrowed. "*It did. And that's a problem. We need to keep moving.*"
Kaelen's mind raced. *The final trial.* Was this the reason he had been chosen? Was this what Lilith had meant when she spoke of the choices to come?
And what role would these strangers play in it?
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