The forest around the desecrated glade was unnaturally still, the air thick with the lingering stench of decay. Aric and Lirael stood shoulder to shoulder, their breaths visible in the sudden cold. Beneath their feet, the ground quivered, as if something beneath the surface was alive.
Aric tightened his grip on his silver sword. The faint glow of runes along its edge pulsed in rhythm with the sigil on his hand. He turned to Lirael, her staff radiating a soft, protective light.
"This isn't just residual magic," he said, his voice low. "It's something else."
Lirael's eyes scanned the clearing, sharp and unyielding. "It's been watching us. Waiting."
Before Aric could respond, the ground split open with a deafening crack, and an ear-splitting roar echoed through the forest.
From the jagged fissure rose a hulking beast of the Abyss. Its form was a grotesque amalgamation of sinew, bone, and shadow. Crimson eyes burned with a cruel intelligence, and its jagged claws scraped against the air as if testing its prey.
Aric moved without hesitation. Years of Witcher training kicked in as he sidestepped the creature's first strike, a massive claw that smashed into the earth where he had been standing. The impact sent shards of corrupted stone flying.
"Keep it distracted!" Lirael called out, her voice sharp. She began weaving an incantation, arcs of magic swirling around her staff.
Aric lunged, his blade aimed at the beast's exposed joints. The silver edge struck true, but instead of recoiling, the creature's Abyssal flesh absorbed the strike, the wound closing almost instantly.
"It's regenerating," Aric growled.
The beast retaliated with a swing of its massive tail, forcing Aric to roll aside. The sigil on his hand flared, sending a pulse of energy through his veins. Instinctively, he drew on it, conjuring an Aard sign to shove the beast backward. The force hit its mark, and the creature staggered.
But the reprieve was brief. The beast roared again, and shadowy tendrils erupted from the ground, lashing toward both Aric and Lirael.
As Aric sliced through the tendrils, he caught a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. The sigil on his hand burned brighter, and an ancient voice whispered in his mind:
"Yield to the Arcane. Let its power guide you."
Aric gritted his teeth, resisting the temptation. He had promised himself he wouldn't rely on the Arcane's destructive force—not after what happened the last time. But the creature wasn't giving him a choice.
"Aric!" Lirael's voice snapped him back to reality. She stood at the edge of the clearing, a barrier of light barely holding against the relentless assault of Abyssal tendrils.
With a surge of determination, Aric shifted his stance. He drew a Yrden sign in the air, the glowing glyph planting itself on the ground beneath the beast. The creature faltered, its movements slowed as the magical trap bound it in place.
"Now!" Aric shouted.
Lirael unleashed her spell, a cascade of flames that engulfed the creature. For a moment, it seemed they had the upper hand. But the beast absorbed the fire, its form growing larger, its roars more ferocious.
"It's feeding on magic," Lirael realized, horror dawning in her eyes.
The sigil on Aric's hand pulsed violently, the Arcane within him surging uncontrollably.
The beast lunged, breaking free from the Yrden trap and charging toward them with unstoppable force. Aric's instincts screamed at him to move, but his body froze, the Arcane energy within him roaring louder than ever.
"You cannot defeat it without me," the voice in his mind taunted.
"Aric!" Lirael's shout jolted him into action. He leapt aside just as the beast's claws tore through the space he had occupied, leaving deep gouges in the earth.
He couldn't keep fighting like this. Every strike, every spell they used only made the beast stronger. The Arcane within him burned for release, but Aric feared what would happen if he gave in.
"Cover me!" Lirael said, stepping forward and planting her staff into the ground. She began chanting, her voice rising over the cacophony of the battle. A glowing sigil formed in the air above her, pulsating with raw energy.
"Lirael, what are you doing?" Aric demanded, slashing through another tendril as it lashed toward him.
"Buying us time," she said, her tone resolute. "This thing's connection to the Abyss—it's a tether. If I can sever it..."
The beast seemed to sense her intent. With an ear-splitting roar, it turned its full attention to Lirael, charging toward her with terrifying speed.
Aric didn't think. He moved, the sigil on his hand flaring to life as he unleashed the Arcane power he had tried so hard to suppress. His blade ignited with a radiant light, and he slashed at the beast, forcing it to turn back to him.
The impact sent a shockwave through the glade, but the force of the Arcane power threatened to overwhelm him. Darkness crept at the edges of his vision, and he felt his grip on reality slipping.
"Aric!" Lirael's voice anchored him. The sigil above her flashed, and the beast let out a deafening screech. The tendrils surrounding it writhed violently before disintegrating, and the Abyssal energy binding it to the world began to unravel.
But the fight wasn't over. As the beast crumbled, its remaining energy surged outward, forming a swirling vortex of shadow in the center of the glade.
Aric staggered to his feet, his sword still glowing with Arcane energy. He turned to Lirael, who was pale and trembling from the strain of her spell.
"What now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Before Aric could answer, the vortex exploded, and from its depths emerged a figure cloaked in shadows, its presence radiating a chilling malice that froze them both in place.
The shadow-cloaked figure stepped from the vortex, its presence dwarfing even the monstrous beast they had just fought. Its form was indistinct, shifting and writhing like smoke caught in an unseen wind, but its eyes—twin orbs of cold, piercing light—bored into Aric and Lirael with terrifying focus.
Aric's grip on his sword tightened. He could feel the weight of the Arcane energy within him straining for release, demanding to be unleashed against this new enemy. But something about the figure made his blood run cold. This wasn't a mere beast. It was something far more dangerous.
"You've meddled where you do not belong," the figure intoned, its voice a deep, resonant echo that seemed to vibrate through the air. "You dare sever the Abyss's tether?"
Aric stepped forward, planting himself between Lirael and the figure. "And who are you to claim dominion here?" he demanded, his voice steady despite the pounding of his heart.
The figure tilted its head, as if studying him. "I am a harbinger," it said. "A fragment of the Abyss's will. And you…" Its glowing eyes narrowed, focusing on the sigil on Aric's hand. "…are an anomaly."
Lirael staggered to her feet, leaning heavily on her staff. "Aric," she murmured, her voice urgent. "That thing—it's not fully here. It's projecting itself. If we can sever its connection—"
The figure moved faster than either of them could react. A shadowy tendril lashed out, striking the ground between them and sending them both flying. Aric rolled to his feet, his sword raised, but the figure was already advancing.
The sigil on Aric's hand burned with a searing heat, and the ancient voice whispered again in his mind.
*"You are outmatched. Accept my power, or perish."*
Aric gritted his teeth. He didn't trust the Arcane's whispers, but he knew they couldn't survive this fight without something more.
"Lirael!" he called out. "Whatever you're planning, do it fast!"
She nodded, her hands trembling as she began to chant again, drawing runes in the air with her staff. The air around her shimmered with energy, but Aric could see the strain etched on her face.
The harbinger raised a hand, and the shadows around it coalesced into a spear-like weapon. With a single, fluid motion, it hurled the weapon at Lirael.
Aric didn't think. He moved, the Arcane within him flaring to life as he threw himself in the path of the attack. The sigil on his hand erupted in a burst of light, creating a shield that deflected the shadowy spear.
The impact sent him staggering, but he managed to stay on his feet. The harbinger's eyes flared with what might have been anger—or curiosity.
"You wield the Arcane," it said. "Yet you do not embrace it. Foolish."
Aric didn't respond. Instead, he launched himself at the figure, his blade glowing with Arcane light. The harbinger met him head-on, its shadowy form shifting and reforming around each strike. Aric fought with every ounce of skill he had, but his attacks seemed to do little more than slow the creature down.
Behind him, Lirael's chanting grew louder. The runes she had drawn began to glow, and the ground beneath the harbinger started to ripple.
"Almost there!" she shouted, her voice strained.
The harbinger's attention shifted back to Lirael. It raised its hand again, summoning another weapon from the shadows. Aric saw the movement and knew he had to act.
"Not this time," he muttered.
Drawing on the Arcane, he slammed his blade into the ground, sending a shockwave of energy rippling outward. The force knocked the harbinger off balance, giving Lirael the opening she needed.
"Now!" she cried.
The runes she had drawn flared brilliantly, and a web of light erupted from the ground, wrapping around the harbinger. The creature let out a furious roar as the light constricted around it, severing its connection to the Abyss.
For a moment, it seemed as though they had won. The harbinger's form flickered and began to dissolve, its glowing eyes dimming.
But as it faded, it spoke one final time.
"You think this is victory? This is merely a prelude. The Abyss knows you now, anomaly. And it will come for you."
With that, the harbinger vanished, leaving only the faint hum of residual magic in its wake.
---
#### The Aftermath
Aric dropped to one knee, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The Arcane within him was still surging, restless and volatile, but he forced it back down, refusing to let it take control.
Lirael approached, her steps unsteady. "Aric… are you all right?"
He nodded, though his body felt like it had been through a war. "What about you? That spell…"
"It worked," she said, though her voice was heavy with exhaustion. "But whatever that thing was, it wasn't lying. The Abyss is aware of us now."
Aric sheathed his sword, his gaze lingering on the spot where the harbinger had stood. "Then we'll be ready," he said, though he wasn't sure he believed it.
The sigil on his hand pulsed faintly, a reminder of the power he had barely managed to contain. He didn't know how long he could keep it in check—or what would happen if he couldn't.
"We need answers," Lirael said. "About the Abyss. About your sigil. And we're not going to find them here."
Aric nodded. "Then let's move."
As they left the glade, the shadows seemed to press in around them, whispering of dangers yet to come.
As Aric and Lirael exited the glade, the sigil on Aric's hand flared, sending a sharp pain through his arm. The ground trembled as a deep roar echoed through the forest. Aric collapsed, his vision overtaken by a shadowy throne room and a figure with glowing eyes that seemed to pierce his soul.
The roar came again, louder and closer, shaking the trees around them. Lirael pulled Aric to his feet, shouting for him to run. They fled into the forest as the darkness behind them surged, twisting and writhing.
From the shadows, something monstrous emerged.