The night air felt colder now, heavier somehow, as though the figure's words had weight, and the tension that hung between them had a physical presence. Rowan couldn't shake the feeling that they were being hunted, even though the figure had disappeared as silently as they'd arrived. The forest seemed different, darker, as if something had shifted in the very fabric of the world. The trees loomed taller, their branches heavy with an unseen burden. The shadows stretched unnaturally long, and every snap of a twig, every rustle in the leaves, made his heart skip.
Ardyn didn't speak for several long moments, his gaze fixed on the darkened path that led deeper into the forest. Rowan could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, but he didn't know what to say. The warning had been clear: They weren't just on the run from the dangers of this world anymore. There was something much more dangerous behind them, something that wanted the shard. Rowan's hand instinctively went to the pouch at his side, his fingers brushing the cool surface of the Memory Echo. He couldn't understand it, not fully, but he knew this artifact was more than just a tool for survival. It was a beacon. And it had drawn attention.
Finally, Ardyn broke the silence. "We need to move," he said, his voice low and urgent. "We can't stay here."
Rowan nodded quickly, his thoughts still swirling from the encounter. "What now? What do we do?"
Ardyn turned to face him, his eyes hard with resolve. "We move fast. We move silent. And we don't stop until we find a place where we can regroup." He gave Rowan a pointed look. "We can't trust that whoever or whatever is following us will stop with just a warning."
Rowan felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He wasn't used to the constant rush, the sense of having to stay one step ahead of danger. Back home, he had read about these kinds of stories, but now that he was living them, it was different. He didn't know what was coming next. And that uncertainty was suffocating.
Ardyn started walking, his steps purposeful and deliberate. Rowan hurried to keep pace, his mind racing with the implications of the figure's warning. He glanced over at the mercenary, but Ardyn was silent, his face set in a grim expression as he navigated through the thick underbrush. Rowan could tell Ardyn was as troubled by the encounter as he was, but the mercenary wasn't about to show it. He had been right about one thing: They couldn't stay in one place for long. They were too exposed.
The forest seemed to close in around them as they moved deeper, the canopy above them thickening. The moonlight was no longer enough to cut through the darkness, leaving them to rely on the faint glow of the shard's power. It pulsed softly from Ardyn's pouch, a steady heartbeat that somehow made Rowan feel a little less alone in the dark.
As they continued on, Rowan couldn't help but feel the presence of something else—something watching them from the shadows. Every creak of a branch, every gust of wind that swept through the trees felt like it carried a whisper of danger. He glanced around nervously, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Still, the feeling lingered.
"How long do you think it will take to reach safety?" Rowan asked, trying to keep his voice steady. The silence had grown oppressive, and his nerves were fraying at the edges.
Ardyn didn't look at him as he responded. "Hard to say. There's no real 'safe' place in this world. But I know where we can find a temporary refuge. Just keep your eyes open."
Rowan nodded again, though he wasn't sure what kind of "refuge" Ardyn was talking about. The word didn't sound reassuring. Still, he didn't argue. He didn't have the luxury of questioning Ardyn's decisions now. They had no time to waste.
After what felt like hours of walking, the forest began to thin out, the trees giving way to a rocky, uneven terrain. The air was noticeably colder here, and Rowan's breath misted in the still night air. His muscles ached from the constant tension, from being on edge, and the lack of sleep was starting to take its toll. He felt exhausted, but he knew he couldn't rest—not yet.
They crested a small hill and found themselves looking down at a vast, rocky expanse. In the distance, Rowan could make out the faint outline of a structure—something ancient, its silhouette dark against the starry sky. It didn't look like any kind of fortress or castle. It was more like a ruin, old and worn, but still standing despite the ravages of time. Rowan's stomach turned uneasily as he looked at it. It felt wrong somehow.
Ardyn stopped a few paces ahead of him, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. "We'll rest there," he said, his voice calm but with an edge that made Rowan feel uneasy. "It's not much, but it will keep us hidden for a while."
"Hidden?" Rowan echoed, still eyeing the ruins suspiciously. "From what?"
Ardyn turned to him, his expression unreadable. "From whatever's out there." He motioned to the structure. "There are things in these lands that no one speaks of. Things that are far worse than anything we've encountered so far."
Rowan didn't ask what those things were. He didn't want to know.
As they approached the ruins, the unease in Rowan's chest grew. The stone was cracked and weathered, its surface covered in moss and vines, but there was something about the place that felt… off. It wasn't just the feeling of abandonment—it was something deeper, something older. As though the very ground beneath his feet carried the weight of countless forgotten years.
The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the faint sound of wind howling through the cracks in the stone made it feel like the ruins were alive, whispering in a language no one understood. Rowan shuddered involuntarily as they passed beneath an archway, the shadows seeming to stretch longer in the dark recesses of the structure.
"This place isn't… safe, is it?" Rowan asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He wasn't sure why he asked, but something about the silence in the ruins made him feel like he was intruding on a place where he didn't belong.
Ardyn didn't immediately respond, but after a moment, he spoke in a low tone. "No place is safe anymore. Not for us."
They moved deeper into the ruins, passing through broken hallways and crumbling rooms, until they came to what appeared to be the remnants of an old altar, a stone slab at its center surrounded by twisted pillars. Rowan couldn't help but feel like they were standing in the heart of something ancient, something that had been forgotten by time but never completely gone.
"We'll rest here for the night," Ardyn said, finally lowering his sword and taking a seat on a patch of dry stone. "We'll be gone by dawn."
Rowan didn't question it. He simply nodded, his body finally surrendering to the exhaustion that had been gnawing at him since the moment he arrived in this world. He didn't sit, though. Instead, he paced in the ruins, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that had settled into his bones. He couldn't help but feel like they were being watched, as though eyes from the past were tracing their every move.
A sudden gust of wind howled through the ruins, carrying with it a whisper. It was faint, but Rowan could have sworn it sounded like… his name.
He froze.
"Ardyn," he whispered urgently, turning to the mercenary. "Did you hear that?"
Ardyn's face remained unreadable, but his eyes narrowed. "I heard it," he said quietly, his tone now hard with warning. "We're not alone."
The wind died down as quickly as it had come, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. But the sense of unease hadn't left Rowan. If anything, it had intensified.
"Stay alert," Ardyn murmured, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "And keep your wits about you. Whatever is out there, it knows we're here."