Eira's words echoed in Kael's mind as they rode through the dense forest. The darkness seemed to press in around them, the trees twisting into grotesque shapes.
"You're certain Arin can help me?" Kael asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Eira nodded, her green eyes glinting in the fading light. "Arin possesses knowledge of the ancient lore. If anyone can help you, it's him."
As they rode, the shadows deepened, and Kael's senses grew more acute. He felt the darkness within him stirring, responding to the encroaching night.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the trees. Tall, gaunt, and shrouded in black.
"Malakar's minion," Eira whispered, drawing her sword.
Kael unsheathed his own blade, the metal gleaming in the moonlight. "Let's end this."
The battle was swift and deadly. Kael's sword sliced through the darkness, but the minion's blows struck true, reopening old wounds.
As the minion fell, Kael stumbled, his vision blurring.
Eira caught his arm, her grip like a vice. "Kael, hold on!"
He nodded, gritting his teeth. "I... won't... succumb."
The darkness within him laughed, a cold, mirthless sound.