The forest felt different now, heavier, as if the words of the Elders had awakened something slumbering in its depths. Calypsius and Ellara moved in silence, their path illuminated by faint streaks of moonlight breaking through the canopy above. The urgency in the elder's voice echoed in Calypsius's mind. You must make a choice.
Ellara broke the silence first. "Do you believe them?" she asked, her voice barely louder than the whispering leaves.
Calypsius tightened his grip on Valenyr's hilt. "I don't think we have a choice. They knew about the mark, about the Shrouded Court. It's more than anyone else has been able to tell us."
Ellara's lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm not doubting their knowledge, but they didn't exactly tell us how to stop this. 'Make a choice.' That's hardly useful when the world is on the brink of chaos."
Calypsius couldn't argue. The weight of the Elder's words felt more like a riddle than guidance, and every step forward made him feel as though he were moving blindly into a trap.
The underbrush crackled beneath their boots, louder than before, and Calypsius felt a prickle at the back of his neck. He glanced over his shoulder, the shadows behind them darker than they should have been.
"We're being followed," he murmured.
Ellara stiffened, her hand going to the curved blade at her side. "How many?"
"Not sure," he said. "But they've been there since we left the grove."
Ellara nodded, her movements subtle. "If they make a move, don't hesitate. We can't risk being taken alive."
Calypsius' jaw tightened. The idea of another ambush, another fight, sent a wave of exhaustion through his body, but Ellara was right. They couldn't afford hesitation.
As they rounded a bend in the path, the shadows ahead seemed to ripple unnaturally. Ellara stopped short, her hand raised.
"Wait," she hissed.
Before Calypsius could ask what she'd seen, the air grew unnervingly still. The forest, so alive moments ago with the hum of insects and the rustle of leaves, had fallen into complete silence.
"They're here," Ellara said, drawing her blade in one swift motion.
The shadows coalesced, shifting and growing until figures emerged from the darkness. There were three of them, cloaked in tattered black robes that seemed to absorb the light around them. Their faces were obscured, but the faint glow of crimson eyes burned beneath their hoods.
"Calypsius," one of them spoke, its voice like gravel grinding against stone. "You've been chosen, and yet you run. Why do you resist the inevitable?"
Calypsius took a step forward, his grip tightening on Valenyr. "I don't take orders from shadows," he spat.
The figure chuckled, a low, grating sound that sent chills down his spine. "You misunderstand, boy. This is not a matter of choice. You belong to us now."
Ellara moved to Calypsius's side, her blade gleaming in the faint light. "He doesn't belong to anyone," she said coldly. "If you think we'll hand him over without a fight, you're sorely mistaken."
The lead figure tilted its head, as if amused. "Oh, Ellara. Always so quick to draw your blade. But tell me, do you even know what you're protecting? Does he?"
Calypsius felt Ellara tense beside him, but she didn't respond. The figure's words dripped with malice, designed to plant seeds of doubt, and Calypsius refused to let them take root.
"I know enough," he said, his voice firm. "Enough to know you won't win."
The figure laughed again, and this time the two others joined in, their voices a haunting harmony. "You are blind, child. But that will change soon enough. Valenyr's power grows stronger by the hour, and with it, so does your bond. Tell me, can you feel it? The hunger? The need to take?"
Calypsius froze. A shiver ran through him as the words struck a nerve. He had felt something—an occasional pull from the blade, an urge he couldn't explain. But he pushed the thought aside. This wasn't the time for self-doubt.
"You don't know anything about me," he said through gritted teeth.
The figure raised a shadowy hand, its form shifting like smoke. "I know more than you think. And I know this: you cannot win this fight. The Shrouded Court will have you, one way or another."
Ellara had heard enough. She lunged forward, her blade slicing through the air toward the figure's chest. But before the strike could land, the shadow dissolved, reforming behind her in an instant.
"You'll have to do better than that," it taunted.
The other two figures surged forward, and the clearing erupted into chaos. Ellara spun, her movements swift and precise as she parried and struck. Calypsius drew Valenyr, the blade glowing faintly in the dark, and met one of the figures head-on.
The clash was unlike anything he had experienced before. Every swing of Valenyr felt heavier than the last, the blade vibrating in his hands as if it were alive. The shadow he fought moved with inhuman speed, its attacks unrelenting.
"You're wasting your strength," it hissed. "Why fight when you could wield power beyond your imagination? Surrender, and all will be yours."
Calypsius growled, driving the blade forward with a burst of strength. The figure dissipated, reforming a few feet away.
Ellara was faring better, her movements a blur as she kept the other two figures at bay. But even she couldn't keep it up forever.
"We can't win this," she shouted. "Not like this!"
Calypsius gritted his teeth. She was right. These weren't ordinary enemies—they were manifestations of the very power that hunted them. Fighting them head-on was a losing battle.
"We need to fall back," he called.
Ellara hesitated, but a quick glance at their opponents told her he was right. With a sharp nod, she slashed at the nearest figure, forcing it back long enough to retreat.
"Go!"
They bolted, weaving through the trees as the shadows pursued them. The figures didn't need to speak to communicate their intent—their relentless chase was message enough.
As they ran, Calypsius felt the pull of Valenyr grow stronger, a low hum resonating through his body. He could almost hear its voice in his mind, urging him to turn, to fight, to let it loose.
But he couldn't. Not yet.
The forest blurred around them as they ran, their breaths ragged. Finally, they reached a narrow ravine, its edge sharp and treacherous. Without hesitation, Ellara leapt across, landing with practiced grace. Calypsius followed, his feet barely touching the ground before the edge crumbled behind him.
The shadows stopped at the ravine's edge, their crimson eyes burning with malice.
"This is far from over," the lead figure growled. "You cannot run forever."
Calypsius met its gaze, his chest heaving. "Watch me."
The shadows lingered for a moment longer before dissolving into the night, leaving the two of them alone.
Ellara turned to him, her expression unreadable. "You're not telling me everything, are you?"
Calypsius looked away, the weight of Valenyr heavy at his side. "No," he admitted quietly. "I'm not."
Ellara nodded slowly, her gaze piercing. "Then you'd better figure it out. Fast."
The night stretched on, but neither of them dared to rest. The shadows were still out there, waiting. And Calypsius knew it was only a matter of time before they struck again.