The peaceful song of the Verdant Nexus had long faded, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the rhythmic crunch of boots on the forest path. The air was cooler now, carrying the scent of moss and morning dew. Yet, despite the serenity, Drakar felt the subtle shift—a tension beneath the surface, like a bowstring drawn taut.
Kaelen was the first to break the silence. "I don't like it. Too quiet."
Drakar glanced at him. "Isn't that what you wanted? No monsters, no traps, just trees and sky."
Kaelen frowned. "Yeah, but when things get this quiet, it usually means something's watching."
Taronis nodded. "Your instincts serve you well."
Drakar scanned the trees, his fingers brushing the hilt of his dagger. The canopy above swayed gently, but there were no birds, no sounds of animals. He exhaled slowly. "Something's wrong."
The path ahead curved toward a clearing where jagged rocks jutted out of the earth like broken teeth. In the center stood a lone obelisk, its surface covered in deep grooves that resembled claw marks. A faint hum emanated from it, low and steady.
Taronis raised a hand. "Be on guard."
The moment they stepped into the clearing, the hum grew louder. The air shimmered as shadowy figures emerged, their forms draped in dark cloaks embroidered with silver sigils. Each figure carried a long, curved blade that pulsed faintly with an ominous glow.
"The Black Sigil, Kaelen muttered, eyes narrowing. "Relic seekers."
Drakar tensed. "Relic seekers?"
Taronis's expression darkened. "A cult devoted to claiming remnants of the Titans' power, no matter the cost."
One of the cloaked figures stepped forward, his face obscured beneath his hood. His voice was calm but cold. "You walk upon sacred ground. Leave, or you will join the forgotten."
Kaelen's hand went to his bow, but Taronis shook his head. "We mean no harm."
The figure's lips curled into a thin smile. "Harm is irrelevant. The power here belongs to us."
Drakar stepped forward, his eyes blazing. "Power isn't owned. It's earned."
The figure's smile faded. He raised his hand, and the other cloaked figures moved into formation, their blades raised.
"Then you will earn your end."
The Battle of the Black Sigil
The clearing erupted into motion as the cloaked figures surged forward. Drakar drew his dagger, meeting the first attacker head-on. Their blades clashed, sending a sharp metallic ring through the air. The force of the strike numbed Drakar's arm, but he gritted his teeth and pushed back.
Kaelen loosed an arrow that struck another cultist in the shoulder, spinning him to the ground. "One down!" Kaelen shouted.
Taronis moved like a storm, his strikes precise and devastating. He parried two attackers at once, his blade a blur of silver light.
Drakar dodged a sweeping strike and countered with a slash across the cultist's ribs. The man staggered but didn't fall. They're fast, Drakar realized. And relentless.
Another cultist lunged from Drakar's left, but Kaelen's arrow pierced the attacker's thigh before he could strike.
"Watch your flanks!" Kaelen called.
Drakar nodded, adrenaline surging through his veins. He sidestepped another attack and drove his dagger into the cultist's arm. The man cried out, his blade falling from his grasp.
Taronis caught the motion from the corner of his eye and deflected a third blade aimed at Drakar's back. "Stay focused!" he barked.
Drakar twisted away, catching his breath. Focus. He scanned the battlefield and spotted the leader standing near the obelisk, chanting under his breath.
"The leader's doing something!" Drakar yelled.
Taronis's eyes narrowed. "Stop him!"
Drakar sprinted toward the obelisk, dodging and weaving through the chaos. The leader's chant grew louder, and dark energy spiraled around his hands. The air grew thick, crackling with power.
I won't let you finish.
Drakar leapt, dagger raised, but the cultist turned at the last second. A pulse of shadow erupted from his outstretched hand, catching Drakar mid-air and hurling him to the ground.
Pain lanced through Drakar's body, but he forced himself to rise. The leader's eyes blazed with cold fire. "You cannot stop what has already begun."
Drakar's grip tightened around his dagger. "Watch me."
The Shift of Power
Kaelen fired another arrow, striking the leader's shoulder and disrupting his chant. Taronis closed the distance with a surge of speed, his blade glowing with energy.
The leader's expression twisted with fury as he raised his blade to meet Taronis's strike. Their swords collided, sending a shockwave that rippled through the clearing.
Drakar charged in, feinting to the right before plunging his dagger into the leader's side. The cultist gasped, his power flickering like a dying flame.
With a final cry, Taronis's blade slashed through the air, striking true. The leader collapsed to his knees before crumpling to the ground.
The remaining cultists hesitated, their resolve shaken. One by one, they fled into the shadows of the forest.
The Aftermath
Silence settled over the clearing, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing. Drakar wiped the sweat from his brow and stared at the obelisk. Its hum had quieted, the faint glow of its glyphs dimming.
Kaelen picked up one of the fallen cultists' blades, examining its dark sheen. "They were prepared for something big."
Taronis sheathed his sword. "The Black Sigil doesn't move without purpose. Whatever they sought here, it wasn't by chance."
Drakar's gaze hardened. "Then we need to find out what they're after."
Taronis nodded. "We will. But first, we rest."
Kaelen gave a tired grin. "Agreed. I'm not made of stone."
The trio gathered their belongings and began to move away from the clearing. The air was still, but the memory of the battle lingered like an echo in the back of Drakar's mind.