The forest grew denser as the day waned, the sun's light struggling to pierce the thick canopy. The golden grove and its mysterious Waystone felt like a distant memory as Lucas and Eira pressed onward.
The mark on Lucas's wrist continued to pulse faintly, but the earlier surge of energy from the Waystone had left him drained. Each step felt heavier than the last, his thoughts clouded by the haunting visions he had seen.
"Keep your focus," Eira said without turning. "We're not out of danger yet."
"I didn't realize we were ever in a safe zone," Lucas muttered, gripping his staff tightly.
Eira smirked, but the tension in her posture betrayed her unease. "You're learning."
As night fell, they reached a small clearing surrounded by towering oaks. Eira stopped, glancing around before nodding.
"We'll camp here," she said.
Lucas dropped his pack with a sigh of relief and began gathering wood for a fire. Eira moved with practiced efficiency, setting up a perimeter of small runestones that glowed faintly as she activated them.
"What are those for?" Lucas asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Warding stones," Eira replied. "They won't stop anything too powerful, but they'll give us a warning if something tries to sneak up on us."
Lucas nodded, feeling a small measure of comfort. As the fire crackled to life, its warmth chased away the evening chill.
They ate in silence, the weight of their journey settling heavily between them. Lucas stared into the flames, his mind racing with questions he hadn't dared to ask before.
"Eira," he said finally, breaking the silence.
She looked up, her expression unreadable.
"You've been fighting this curse for years," he said. "Do you ever wonder if it's even possible to win?"
Eira's gaze softened, and for a moment, Lucas thought she might actually smile. But instead, she leaned back against a tree, her eyes distant.
"I've wondered that every day," she admitted. "But giving up isn't an option. Not for me."
"Because of your mother?"
"Partly." Eira hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of her dagger. "But it's more than that. If we don't fight, who will? The curse feeds on fear and despair. The moment we stop trying is the moment it wins."
Lucas absorbed her words, the firelight casting flickering shadows across his face. He didn't feel brave or capable, but Eira's resolve was infectious.
"What about you?" she asked suddenly, catching him off guard.
"Me?"
"You're in this now, whether you like it or not. What's driving you to keep going?"
Lucas thought about it for a moment, his gaze dropping to the mark on his wrist. "Honestly? I don't know. I'm scared out of my mind. But if this curse is tied to me—my family—I can't just ignore it. If there's even a chance I can stop it, I have to try."
Eira nodded, her expression thoughtful. "That's a good start."
The quiet of the night was broken by a sudden, eerie howl in the distance. Lucas shot to his feet, his staff in hand.
"What was that?" he whispered.
Eira was already moving, her dagger drawn. "Trouble. Get ready."
The warding stones flared to life, their glow pulsing as a figure emerged from the shadows—a man clad in dark robes, his face obscured by a hood. Behind him, more figures appeared, their movements unnervingly synchronized.
"Who are they?" Lucas asked, his voice tense.
"Shadowbinders," Eira said, her tone sharp. "Followers of the curse. They'll kill anyone who stands in its way."
The leader of the group stepped forward, his voice smooth and cold. "You cannot escape the curse, Lucas. It claims all who defy it."
Lucas felt a chill run down his spine. The man's words were laced with magic, each syllable reverberating in his chest.
"We're not running," Eira said, stepping between Lucas and the Shadowbinders. "If you want him, you'll have to go through me."
The man chuckled, a low, menacing sound. "As you wish."
He raised his hand, and the shadows around him surged forward, twisting and writhing like living things. Eira sprang into action, her dagger glowing with enchantments as she slashed through the first wave of darkness.
"Lucas, focus!" she shouted.
Lucas gritted his teeth, channeling his energy into his staff. The sigil on his wrist burned brightly, and a burst of light erupted from the tip of the staff, scattering the shadows.
The leader hissed, his hood falling back to reveal a gaunt, pale face with glowing green eyes. "Impressive. But your light will not save you."
He cast a spell, the shadows coalescing into a massive, clawed creature that lunged toward Lucas.
"Not today," Eira growled, throwing a vial that exploded in a flash of fire, forcing the creature to retreat.
Lucas seized the moment, casting another spell that sent a wave of energy crashing into the Shadowbinders. The leader staggered but didn't fall, his gaze locking onto Lucas with a mix of hatred and curiosity.
"You're stronger than I expected," he said. "But this is far from over."
With a flick of his wrist, the shadows enveloped him and his followers, and they vanished into the night.
As the warding stones dimmed, Lucas lowered his staff, his chest heaving. "What just happened?"
Eira sheathed her dagger, her expression grim. "They'll be back. And next time, they won't underestimate us."
Lucas nodded, his resolve hardening. He didn't know how they would survive what lay ahead, but one thing was clear—he couldn't afford to falter.