The shimmering barrier surrounding the glade felt like a thin veil against the growing storm. Eryon paced along its edge, his fingers brushing the faint energy it emitted. The sanctuary was quiet—too quiet. While it offered safety for the moment, he couldn't shake the feeling that danger lurked just beyond its borders.
Tia sat by the small fire they'd made, her gaze distant as she fiddled with the Shard of Earth. Its soft, green glow reflected in her eyes, making her look older than her years. Lysara leaned casually against a tree, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable.
"This place doesn't feel as safe as you promised," Eryon said, breaking the silence.
Lysara raised an eyebrow. "Nothing is ever truly safe, Eryon. But for now, it's the best you'll get. The Void's forces won't find us here—unless, of course, you do something foolish."
Eryon stopped pacing and glared at her. "Like trusting you, perhaps?"
Lysara smirked. "You're sharper than you look. But if I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have brought you here."
"Enough," Tia said, her voice cutting through the tension. She stood, the Shard clutched tightly in her hand. "We're wasting time arguing. If Lysara has a plan, we need to hear it. The Void isn't going to wait for us to figure things out."
Eryon sighed, forcing himself to calm down. "Fine. What's the plan, Lysara?"
The woman pushed off the tree and stepped closer to the fire. "The next shard lies in the ruins of Kalvaris, a city swallowed by the Void centuries ago. It's deep in the Forbidden Wastes, and getting there will be… complicated."
Tia frowned. "The Forbidden Wastes? I've heard stories. No one who goes there ever comes back."
Lysara's smirk faded. "Most don't. The Wastes are a desolate, cursed land. The Void's influence is strongest there, and its creatures roam freely. But the Shard of Shadows is hidden there, and if we don't get it before the Void does, this entire world will fall."
Eryon crossed his arms. "Why would the shard be in such a dangerous place?"
"Because it was hidden there on purpose," Lysara said. "The ancients believed the Wastes would keep it safe from those who would misuse its power. They didn't account for someone like you." Her gaze flicked to Eryon, her tone carrying a hint of mockery.
Eryon ignored the jab. "How do we even begin to prepare for something like this?"
"We'll need supplies, weapons, and—most importantly—information," Lysara said. "There's a small town on the edge of the Wastes called Myrvath. It's a haven for smugglers, mercenaries, and other unsavory types. If anyone knows how to navigate the Wastes, they'll be there."
Tia looked uneasy. "And what makes you think they'll help us?"
"They won't," Lysara said bluntly. "At least, not without the right… persuasion."
Eryon clenched his fists. "You mean bribes."
"Or intimidation," Lysara said with a shrug. "Whichever works."
The journey to Myrvath took them three days. The forest eventually gave way to barren plains, the once-vibrant landscape turning gray and lifeless. The air grew heavy, and an unnatural silence enveloped them, broken only by the crunch of their boots on dry soil.
Tia stayed close to Eryon, her eyes darting nervously at every shadow. Lysara led the way, her movements confident and unbothered, as if she had walked this path a hundred times before.
By the time they reached the outskirts of Myrvath, the sun was dipping below the horizon. The town was little more than a cluster of dilapidated buildings surrounded by a makeshift wall of scavenged wood and metal. Dim lanterns cast eerie shadows, and the air was thick with the scent of smoke and decay.
"This place looks… inviting," Eryon said sarcastically.
Lysara smirked. "Stay close and keep your mouth shut. This isn't a place for noble speeches or heroics."
Eryon bristled but said nothing. They entered the town, drawing wary glances from its inhabitants. Men and women with hardened expressions loitered in the shadows, their hands resting on weapons. A few whispered among themselves, their eyes lingering on the shards Eryon and Tia carried.
"Where are we going?" Tia whispered.
"To find someone who can guide us," Lysara replied. "And I know just the person."
She led them to a run-down tavern near the center of town. The sign above the door creaked in the wind, its faded letters spelling out "The Hollow Fang." Inside, the air was thick with the stench of alcohol and sweat. Rough-looking patrons filled the room, their laughter and conversation dying down as Eryon and Tia entered.
Lysara strode confidently to the bar, where a burly man with a scar running down his face cleaned a glass with a dirty rag. "We're looking for Gareth," she said.
The man's eyes narrowed. "And who's asking?"
"Someone with business he'll want to hear about," Lysara said, sliding a gold coin across the counter.
The man eyed the coin before nodding toward a back room. "He's in there. Don't cause trouble."
Lysara motioned for Eryon and Tia to follow. The room was dimly lit, with a single candle casting flickering shadows on the walls. A man sat at a table, his boots propped up as he cleaned his nails with a dagger. He looked up as they entered, his sharp features twisting into a smirk.
"Lysara," he said, his voice smooth and mocking. "It's been a while. What brings you to this charming establishment?"
"Business, Gareth," Lysara said, crossing her arms. "We need a guide through the Wastes."
Gareth raised an eyebrow. "The Wastes? You must be desperate."
"We have no time for games," Eryon said, stepping forward. "Can you help us or not?"
Gareth's eyes flicked to Eryon, then to the shards they carried. His smirk widened. "Ah, I see now. You're after the Shard of Shadows. Dangerous business, that."
"Can you guide us?" Lysara pressed.
Gareth leaned back, tapping his dagger against the table. "I could… for a price."
"Name it," Lysara said.
Gareth's eyes gleamed. "The shards you carry. One of them will do."
Eryon's hand went to his sword. "That's not happening."
Gareth chuckled. "Relax, boy. I'm only joking. For now. I'll guide you—for the right amount of gold. And a promise that you'll owe me a favor."
Lysara hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. You'll get your payment when we reach the shard."
"Deal," Gareth said, standing and sheathing his dagger. "We leave at dawn. Be ready."
As they left the tavern, Eryon turned to Lysara. "Are you sure we can trust him?"
"No," she said bluntly. "But we don't have a choice."
Eryon sighed, the weight of their quest growing heavier with each step. The Shard of Shadows awaited them in the heart of the Wastes, but something told him their greatest challenges were yet to come.