The victory in the marshlands felt hollow as the group made their way back through the labyrinth of trees and water. Though the wraiths were gone, the lingering whispers seemed to follow them, a constant reminder of the shard's dark power.
"Something's wrong," Liora said, glancing over her shoulder. "The marsh feels… heavier."
Darian frowned. "It's the shard. Its presence is stirring the magic in this place."
"That, or Raven's caught up to us," Elias added, his voice tinged with unease.
The group pressed on, their movements quickened by the growing sense of danger. The carved compass continued to guide them, but its needle flickered and wavered as if struggling against an unseen force.
As night fell, the fog grew thicker, reducing visibility to mere feet. Shadows danced at the edges of their vision, and strange sounds echoed through the trees.
"Did you hear that?" Elias whispered, his hand instinctively going to one of his gadgets.
Liora nodded, her grip tightening on the satchel containing the shards. "We're not alone."
The group stopped, their senses on high alert. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the mist—a lone woman with long, dark hair and piercing eyes. She wore a tattered cloak, and her presence exuded an air of quiet menace.
"Travelers," the woman said, her voice calm but cold. "You carry something that does not belong to you."
Darian stepped forward, his sword at the ready. "Who are you?"
The woman ignored him, her gaze fixed on Liora. "The shards you carry are a curse. Surrender them, and I will spare your lives."
"Not happening," Liora said, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her.
The woman sighed, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Foolish, but predictable."
In an instant, she moved with unnatural speed, closing the distance between them. Darian blocked her first strike, his blade clashing against hers in a shower of sparks.
"Go!" he shouted to Liora and Elias.
The two hesitated, but the woman's next strike sent Darian staggering. Reluctantly, they ran, the fog swallowing them as they fled.
Behind them, the sounds of battle echoed—steel against steel, grunts of effort, and the occasional cry of pain.
"Darian will catch up," Liora said, though her voice trembled with doubt.
They pressed onward, the compass guiding them out of the marsh. When they finally emerged onto solid ground, they collapsed, their lungs heaving and their bodies shaking.
But Darian was nowhere to be seen.
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