The dense mist rolled across the terrain like a ghostly tide, its chilling touch clinging to every stone and blade of grass. The air felt heavy, charged with latent energy as though the Sacred Realm itself was watching, waiting. At the edge of the mist, the warrior and her golden-haired companion strode with a confidence that belied the dangers surrounding them.
The warrior, her crimson eyes scanning every shadow, kept her hand on the hilt of her sword. Her white hair, streaked with blood from past battles, gleamed faintly in the pale light filtering through the fog. Beside her, the elf moved with the grace of a predator, her bow loose in her hand, though an arrow was always within reach.
"How many do you think we'll run into this time?" the elf asked, her voice light despite the tension hanging in the air.
"Enough to be a nuisance," the warrior replied, her tone clipped and precise.
"Lovely," the elf said with a grin, twirling a spare arrow between her fingers. "Let's hope they're more interesting than the last batch. Those beasts were strong, sure, but they lacked... flair."
The warrior smirked faintly. "Not everything needs to entertain you, Lia."
"Disagree," Lia said, nudging her friend playfully. "If I'm going to risk my life, I might as well enjoy it."
Their banter was cut short as a sharp whistle pierced the air, followed by the distinct crunch of footsteps. Both women froze, their instincts honed by countless battles. The warrior's hand tightened around her sword, while Lia had an arrow nocked and drawn before a breath could pass.
From the mist emerged a group of men, their ragged armor and mismatched weapons marking them as mercenaries or scavengers. They moved with a practiced ease, their eyes gleaming with predatory intent as they spread out, circling the two women.
"Well, well," the leader drawled, a scarred man with a wicked grin and a massive axe slung over his shoulder. "Looks like the Sacred Realm's graced us with a couple of fine prizes."
Lia tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "Prizes? You think we're prizes?" She let out a laugh that was equal parts amusement and scorn. "Oh, you poor, misguided fools."
The warrior said nothing, her crimson eyes locked on the leader. Her presence alone was enough to make the men hesitate, though their greed quickly overpowered their caution.
"Drop the weapons, ladies," the leader said, his grin widening. "Maybe we'll let you walk away when we're done."
"Done?" Lia echoed, her emerald eyes narrowing as her fingers tightened on her bowstring. "I don't think you understand who you're dealing with."
The leader chuckled, gesturing to his men. "Enough talk. Surround them."
The warrior stepped forward, her blade whispering free of its sheath. The air around her seemed to grow heavier, charged with an unseen power. "Last chance," she said, her voice low and deadly. "Leave. Now."
The men hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances. But the leader barked a laugh, raising his axe. "Kill them."
The first man lunged, his blade aimed at Lia. She moved faster, her arrow slicing through the mist before he could close the distance. He fell, clutching his throat as blood spilled between his fingers.
The warrior didn't wait for the others to react. She surged forward, her blade a blur of motion. One, two, three men fell before they even had a chance to strike. Each movement was precise, efficient, and deadly, her crimson eyes burning with unyielding focus.
Lia danced around the chaos, her arrows finding their marks with uncanny accuracy. She moved like the wind, light and untouchable, her laughter ringing out like a mocking echo in the mist.
The mercenaries' confidence crumbled as their numbers dwindled. The leader snarled, charging at the warrior with a roar. She met his swing with a calculated parry, their blades clashing in a shower of sparks.
"You think you're untouchable, don't you?" he growled, pressing his weight against her sword.
She didn't answer. Instead, she twisted her blade, breaking his grip and driving her knee into his chest. He staggered back, gasping, and she ended it with a single, decisive strike.
The battlefield fell silent, the last echoes of the fight fading into the mist. Lia stepped over one of the bodies, her bow resting casually against her shoulder. "Well, that was fun. Short, but fun."
The warrior cleaned her blade, her expression unreadable. "They were fools."
"Fools who thought they could take on us," Lia said with a grin. "Shame they didn't know better."
The warrior shook her head, though a faint smirk tugged at her lips. "Let's keep moving. We're close."
Lia's grin faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "You feel it too, don't you? That pull."
The warrior nodded, her gaze fixed on the faint glow visible through the mist. "The heart of the trial. It's just ahead."
They pressed forward, the air growing heavier with each step. The ground beneath their feet seemed to pulse with energy, and the mist thickened, carrying whispers that neither of them could quite make out.
As they reached the edge of the glowing light, Lia let out a low whistle. "Well, that's not ominous at all."
Lia stood beside her, her expression uncharacteristically serious. "Whatever's on the other side of this... we're ready."
The warrior glanced at her friend, a rare softness in her crimson eyes. "Together?"
Lia smiled, her emerald eyes sparkling with determination. "Always."
With a deep breath, they stopped just shy of the gate, the tension thick in the air. As the faint light illuminated her determined face, the warrior's name lingered on the edge of Lia's lips: "Lyris."