The wind howled, cutting through the dry, cracked earth beneath their feet. The sky above, heavy with clouds that looked as though they'd never seen the sun, weighed on them. Kyprosa tugged at the collar of her cloak, the fabric whipping violently around her as she kept her eyes on the path ahead.
"Is it just me," she muttered, wiping some stray hair from her face, "or does the wind have a personal vendetta against me?"
Behind her, Sarajin let out a short laugh. "It's not just you. This entire place has a bad attitude."
Bunzer, hopping lightly along, gave them both a wide grin. "Maybe it's just mad we haven't thrown a party yet. You know, all that anger—could be an invitation."
Kyprosa rolled her eyes. "A party? Bunzer, we're on the brink of getting torn apart by gods-knows-what, and you're talking about a party."
"Yeah," Sarajin chimed in, teasing, "a party with lots of things to stab and slice. I mean, we are walking straight into Blight territory, after all."
Kyprosa gave a half-hearted smirk. "Well, at least we'd be distracted."
Razen, trailing just behind the group, glanced up at the darkened sky, his face an unreadable mask. His twin swords were sheathed at his hip, but his presence felt like a looming shadow that stretched far beyond the immediate surroundings. The wind didn't seem to bother him at all. His blood-red eyes, the pupils shaped in intricate flower patterns, narrowed as he scanned the horizon.
"Stop joking around," Razen's voice broke the banter, his tone as cold and biting as the wind itself. "Don't make me regret not leaving you to fend for yourselves."
Bunzer raised his hands in mock surrender. "Whoa there, Big Guy. Not trying to get killed here. Just lightening the mood."
Sarajin grinned, nudging him with her elbow. "You know, Razen, I'm starting to think you might actually like us."
Razen shot her a look that could've frozen fire, but there was something softer in the corners of his eyes for a split second. It was gone before anyone could catch it. He quickly turned his attention back to the barren land in front of them, his voice quieter but still sharp. "Just stay focused. I don't want to babysit you through another mess."
Kyprosa shot him a glance but didn't press the subject. "We're all keeping our heads on straight, Razen," she said, a hint of sass in her voice. "Don't worry about us."
He gave a short grunt in response. His gaze lingered on her for a fraction of a second, just long enough for her to catch the slight shift in his expression. But he didn't say anything more. Typical.
They continued forward in silence, the only sound the soft crunch of their steps and the relentless wind cutting through the rocky terrain. The world around them felt like it was holding its breath. The heavy, oppressive air, the dark sky that never seemed to clear—it was a constant reminder of the land they had entered. The Blight was everywhere. It seeped into the soil, tainted the very air they breathed, and it clung to everything with a cold, unyielding grip.
Kyprosa glanced over her shoulder at Bunzer, who was twirling his daggers with the ease of someone who'd spent their entire life doing it. He always seemed so carefree, even in the face of danger. It was one of the things that kept the group from falling apart under the weight of their journey.
"You know," she said, breaking the silence, "I think you're the only one who isn't nervous about all this."
Bunzer grinned back. "What, and miss out on the fun? No thanks."
Sarajin rolled her eyes. "You're a piece of work, Bunzer."
"Aw, come on. You love me, you know it," he teased, giving her a wink.
Kyprosa shook her head, but couldn't help but smile. "You're all insane."
"Eh, it's the Blight," Sarajin said with a shrug. "Makes everyone a little crazy. You either laugh or cry."
Razen's voice cut through again, sharp and warning. "Focus."
The air seemed to hum with tension. Something wasn't right. The usual eerie silence of the Blight lands had shifted—there was a strange, unnatural stillness that hung in the air. Kyprosa's fingers tightened around the hilt of her dagger. She could feel it—something was coming. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
"Get ready," she said, her voice low. "We've got company."
A low, guttural growl echoed through the trees ahead. It was quickly followed by more, each one sending a ripple of tension through the group. Something was stalking them.
Bunzer cracked his knuckles, twirling his daggers in an exaggerated fashion. "I think it's time for a little fun."
Kyprosa grinned. "You always say that before things go horribly wrong."
Razen's voice broke the tension, colder than before. "Shut up and move."
Sarajin, as always, was ready. Her bow was in her hands in an instant, an arrow nocked and drawn. "Let's get this over with."
A Blight spawn emerged from the shadows—its body a twisted, horrific version of a creature once natural, now deformed and mangled by the land's corruption. Its eyes glowed with an eerie, unnatural red light, and its jaws dripped with saliva.
"Not exactly a pleasant sight," Kyprosa muttered, her dagger raised.
The creature screeched and lunged, but before it could reach them, Sarajin's arrow found its mark, striking it in the shoulder. It recoiled, but it wasn't enough to take it down.
"Quick," Kyprosa barked, "it's still alive!"
Bunzer darted in, his daggers flashing as he struck at the creature's legs, forcing it to drop. He grinned through clenched teeth. "Getting a little close for comfort, huh?"
Razen was already moving. His twin blades cut through the creature's chest with deadly precision, the monster collapsing with a final screech. It didn't stand a chance.
For a moment, the group stood still, listening for any more signs of movement. The wind had died down, and the land felt eerily silent again.
Bunzer wiped his blades on the creature's remains and flashed a grin. "Well, that was easy."
Kyprosa sheathed her dagger, scanning the area. "Too easy. Something's off. Don't let your guard down."
"Always on edge," Razen muttered, his eyes sweeping the horizon. "Good. Stay that way."
Sarajin stretched her arms. "Let's just get out of here before anything else decides to show up."
The group fell into step, the tension not quite leaving the air. They were still deep in Blight territory, where dangers lurked around every corner. But despite it all, there was something about this little team—this ragtag group of misfits—that made everything feel a little more bearable. Maybe it was the humor, or maybe it was just the strange, unspoken bond they shared. Whatever it was, they kept moving forward, toward whatever came next.
As they marched on, Razen, who had been trailing just behind, narrowed his blood-red eyes, his sharp gaze fixed on a distant point beyond the others. For a moment, his expression hardened, his usual detached indifference momentarily slipping. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the moment was gone. His eyes shifted back to their usual icy calm as he fell into line at the back of the group, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.
Kyprosa didn't notice the subtle shift, but she felt the change in the air. Something was off, but for now, they'd have to wait until it made itself known. The weight of the journey pressed on them all, and they continued forward—together.