The sun dipped below the jagged peaks of the mountain range, casting long shadows across the road as Kael and Nyxar made their way west. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and earth, but there was an unnatural stillness to the forest around them. No birds sang, no animals stirred in the underbrush. Even the wind seemed hesitant to move through the trees.
Kael tightened his cloak against the chill, his senses on high alert. "Do you feel that?" he asked Nyxar, who was gliding low above the treetops, his massive wings barely stirring the air.
The dragon rumbled in response, his molten eyes scanning the horizon. "I feel it. The land is uneasy. Something unnatural lingers here."
They had left Rydgar only a day earlier, traveling toward the western villages that had reportedly been attacked. Kael had hoped to find survivors, perhaps even witnesses who could confirm the Shadowborn's movements. But as they ventured deeper into the wilderness, his hope began to waver.
The first sign of trouble came as they crested a hill and saw the village of Durn's Hollow spread out below them. Smoke rose from the ruins of charred buildings, curling into the twilight sky like the fingers of some ghostly hand. The fields that once surrounded the village were scorched black, and the few trees that remained standing were stripped of their leaves, their bark twisted and gnarled.
Kael's heart sank. "We're too late."
Nyxar landed heavily beside him, his claws digging into the rocky ground. "Perhaps not. There may still be survivors. But tread carefully, Kael. Whatever did this may still linger."
The village was eerily silent as Kael entered, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. The air smelled of ash and decay, and the ground was littered with debris—shattered pottery, torn clothing, and the blackened remains of what had once been homes. A cold wind swept through the streets, carrying with it the faintest whisper of voices.
"Help… us…"
Kael froze, his pulse quickening. The voice had been faint, almost too faint to hear, but it was enough to spur him forward. He moved cautiously, his eyes scanning every shadow, every movement. Nyxar followed close behind, his massive form barely squeezing between the narrow alleyways.
They found the source of the voice in the remains of the village square. A young woman, no older than twenty, lay slumped against the base of a toppled statue. Her clothes were torn and bloodied, her face pale and hollow. She looked up as Kael approached, her eyes wide with terror.
"Shadowborn," she whispered, her voice cracking. "They came… they took…"
Kael knelt beside her, his heart aching at the sight of her injuries. "You're safe now," he said softly. "We'll protect you. Can you tell me what happened?"
She coughed, her breath rattling in her chest. "They came… in the night. Men and women cloaked in darkness… their eyes… they glowed like embers. They… they said they were cleansing the village. Punishing us… for harboring traitors."
Kael's blood ran cold. The Shadowborn were no longer content to act in the shadows—they were making their presence known, and their cruelty knew no bounds.
"Did they take anyone?" he asked, his voice tight. "Were there survivors?"
The woman nodded weakly. "They took the children… said they would… make them into something greater. The others… they killed."
Kael clenched his fists, the Flame within him flaring with anger. The Shadowborn weren't just attacking—they were abducting, corrupting, turning innocents into weapons for their cause. He felt the weight of the woman's words pressing down on him, the enormity of the threat he faced sinking in.
"We need to move," Nyxar said, his voice low and urgent. "If they've taken the children, they won't be far. But we must hurry."
Kael looked back at the woman, guilt gnawing at him. He couldn't leave her here, not in this state. But if he delayed, the children might be lost forever.
As if sensing his hesitation, the woman reached out and grabbed his arm. "Go," she said, her voice stronger than before. "Save them. I'll… I'll be fine."
Kael nodded, his heart heavy. "We'll send help for you. Stay strong."
Nyxar took to the skies, his keen eyes scanning the surrounding forest for any signs of the Shadowborn. Kael followed on foot, his senses sharp and his body tense. The trail was faint, but it was there—a series of footprints leading westward, deeper into the wilderness.
As they moved, the forest grew darker, the trees gnarled and twisted as if corrupted by some unseen force. The air was thick with the stench of decay, and the whispers grew louder, filling Kael's mind with a cacophony of voices. He shook his head, trying to push them away, but they clung to him like shadows.
"You're not strong enough," a voice hissed. "You'll fail. Just like the others."
Kael gritted his teeth, forcing the Flame to rise within him. The whispers recoiled at the heat, fading into the background, but their words lingered, planting seeds of doubt in his mind.
"Kael!" Nyxar's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "There's something ahead."
Kael quickened his pace, emerging into a clearing where the ground was scorched black and the air shimmered with residual heat. In the center of the clearing stood a figure cloaked in darkness, their face obscured by a hood. Around them, the bodies of several villagers lay scattered, their lifeless eyes staring at the sky.
The figure turned to face Kael, their eyes glowing like molten coals. "Ah, the bondkeeper," they said, their voice smooth and mocking. "We've been expecting you."
Kael drew his blade, the Flame surging within him. "Release the children. Now."
The figure laughed, a sound that sent chills down Kael's spine. "They are already ours. And soon, so will you."
The battle that followed was unlike anything Kael had ever faced. The figure moved with unnatural speed, their strikes infused with dark magic that sapped the strength from Kael's limbs. Nyxar roared, unleashing a torrent of fire, but the figure dodged with ease, their laughter echoing through the clearing.
Kael fought with everything he had, the Flame burning brighter than ever before. But the figure was relentless, their power overwhelming. It was only when Nyxar intervened, his massive claws striking the ground with enough force to create a shockwave, that the figure faltered.
"We'll meet again, bondkeeper," the figure said, their voice filled with menace. "And when we do, you'll wish you had never been chosen."
With that, they vanished into the shadows, leaving Kael and Nyxar alone in the clearing. The children were gone, their captors retreating deeper into the darkness.
Kael fell to his knees, his breath ragged. The fight had left him shaken, but he knew he couldn't afford to stop. The Shadowborn were growing stronger, and the war was only beginning.