The sun was sinking lower on the horizon, casting the hills and rocky terrain in hues of deep orange and gold. Sam trudged behind Delphine and Calder, the gauntlet on their hand growing heavier with every step. It wasn't just the physical weight—it was the unshakable sense that this thing was more trouble than it was worth.
"So," Sam said, breaking the silence. "Are we just walking until nightfall, or do you two actually have a plan?"
Calder glanced over his shoulder, his smirk as persistent as ever. "Plans are overrated. We're heading to a safehouse."
"Safehouse?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't exactly scream confidence in the whole 'saving the world' thing."
Delphine, walking ahead with purpose, didn't bother turning around. "We need to regroup and resupply. There's a village about an hour from here where we have allies."
Sam groaned. "Allies, huh? Let me guess—they're just as mysterious and cryptic as you two?"
Calder chuckled. "You're catching on quick, Herald."
"Stop calling me that," Sam snapped. "I'm not a Herald, or a chosen one, or whatever other nonsense you people believe in. I'm just trying not to die."
Delphine finally stopped, turning to face them. Her sharp gaze pinned Sam in place. "Whether you like it or not, the gauntlet chose you. That makes you the Herald. And if you want to survive what's coming, you'll need to start taking this seriously."
Sam met her stare, their frustration bubbling to the surface. "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you under the impression that I asked for any of this? Because I didn't. I was perfectly fine being the sidekick, thank you very much."
Delphine's expression softened, but only slightly. "No one asks for this. But running from it won't make it go away."
Sam opened their mouth to retort but stopped. Delphine's words stung because they were true. As much as they hated to admit it, there was no escaping the Prophecy or the gauntlet. The box's faint pulse under their arm seemed to echo the sentiment.
"Fine," Sam muttered, looking away. "But I'm not calling myself the Herald."
"Fair enough," Calder said with a grin. "We'll come up with a better nickname for you later."
Delphine rolled her eyes and resumed walking. Sam followed with a reluctant sigh, their thoughts swirling like the dark clouds gathering on the horizon.
The village came into view just as the last sliver of sunlight dipped below the hills. It was small and unassuming, with a cluster of thatched-roof houses surrounding a central square. Smoke curled lazily from a few chimneys, and the faint glow of lanterns lit the dirt paths winding between buildings.
Calder led the way, his casual demeanor shifting to something more alert. "Stick close," he said. "The people here are friendly, but we don't want to draw too much attention."
"Friendly?" Sam repeated, glancing around. "That's not the vibe I'm getting."
The streets were eerily quiet, the usual sounds of evening activity replaced by a heavy stillness. The few villagers they passed hurried inside, shutting their doors and windows as if afraid to be seen. Sam shivered, the hairs on the back of their neck standing on end.
Delphine noticed their unease. "It's the darkness. Even in small villages like this, people can feel it creeping closer."
"Comforting," Sam muttered.
Calder stopped in front of a nondescript house near the edge of the village. He knocked twice, paused, then knocked three more times in quick succession. The door creaked open a moment later, revealing a middle-aged man with a scar running down his cheek. His eyes narrowed as he looked the group over.
"Calder. Delphine," he said, his voice low and gruff. "You're late."
"Blame the dragon," Calder said, pushing past him into the house. "We had to make a detour."
The man's gaze shifted to Sam, his frown deepening. "And who's this?"
"Herald," Delphine said simply, stepping inside. "The gauntlet chose them."
The man's eyes widened, flicking to the gauntlet on Sam's hand. He let out a low whistle. "Didn't think I'd live to see the day."
"Yeah, join the club," Sam muttered, following the others inside.
The house was cramped but cozy, its walls lined with shelves cluttered with books, jars, and various trinkets. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting warm light over the room. Calder dropped into a chair by the fire, propping his feet up on a nearby table.
"So, what's the plan, Rhys?" he asked, addressing the man. "Got any leads for us?"
Rhys closed the door, locking it behind him. "Plenty. But you're not going to like them."
Sam groaned. "That's becoming a theme."
Rhys ignored them, moving to a table covered in maps and notes. He picked up a piece of parchment and handed it to Delphine. "There's been activity near the old ruins in the Wyrmwood. Scouts reported seeing shadowbeasts gathering there in large numbers."
Delphine's brow furrowed as she scanned the parchment. "The Wyrmwood? That's miles from here."
"Which is why you need to leave at first light," Rhys said. "If the darkness is mobilizing, it's only a matter of time before it reaches the villages."
"Shadowbeasts?" Sam asked, their stomach sinking. "What are those?"
"Creatures born from the darkness," Delphine said, folding the parchment. "They're vicious, relentless, and almost impossible to kill without magic."
Sam glanced at the gauntlet, then at the box under their arm. "Let me guess. I'm supposed to handle them?"
Delphine nodded. "The gauntlet's power can destroy them. But you'll need to learn how to use it effectively."
"Great," Sam muttered. "No pressure."
Rhys looked them over, his expression unreadable. "You don't seem like much," he said bluntly. "But if the gauntlet chose you, there's got to be something to you."
Sam bristled. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
Calder chuckled from his seat by the fire. "Don't take it personally, kid. Rhys is just bad with compliments."
Rhys ignored him, turning back to Delphine. "The scouts also reported strange lights coming from the ruins. Could be nothing, but it's worth checking out."
Delphine nodded. "We'll head there first thing in the morning."
Sam slumped into a chair, exhaustion finally catching up to them. "Fantastic. Another death trap."
Calder grinned. "Welcome to the team."
Sam shot him a glare but said nothing. The fire crackled in the silence, and for the first time in hours, Sam allowed themselves to relax. Tomorrow would bring more danger, more questions, and more responsibility. But for now, they were content to let the warmth of the fire lull them into a brief moment of peace.