The air was thick with ash and the pungent scent of scorched earth as dawn crept through the trees. Tendrils of fog clung to the ruins, giving the scene an eerie stillness. Eira stood at the edge of the clearing, staring at the heap of blackened ash where the shadowbeast had fallen.
Her fingers traced the Whispering Blade's hilt, the runes on the sword faintly glowing, as though still hungering for more darkness to vanquish. The previous night's battle weighed heavily on her mind.
Finn crouched beside the pile of ash, grimacing. "I hate these things."
"You're not the only one," Eira muttered. Her eyes flicked to Thorne, who was wrapping a blood-soaked bandage around his injured arm. "How's your arm?"
"I've had worse." Thorne winced as he tightened the bandage. "We need to move before anything else finds us. Creatures like that don't hunt alone."
Eira's stomach twisted. If there were more shadowbeasts nearby, then their situation was far more dangerous than she had imagined.
"We can't just leave yet," Finn protested. "What if the ruins have supplies or maps? We need something to help us navigate through this forest."
Thorne frowned but nodded reluctantly. "We'll search quickly. Keep your eyes open and stay within shouting distance."
The group split up, each carefully exploring the ancient watchpost. The walls were etched with faded carvings, their meaning lost to time. Broken weapons and rusted chains littered the floor, remnants of battles fought long ago.
Eira's boots crunched over the debris as she moved deeper into the structure. A sense of unease prickled at her senses. The air was heavy with something ancient and lingering—magic, perhaps.
Her gaze landed on a door partially hidden by ivy. The wood was warped with age, but faint sigils glimmered along its surface. Eira traced her fingers over the symbols, feeling a faint pulse beneath her skin.
"Magic wards," she whispered.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed her palm against the door. The sigils flared, and the door creaked open with a groan.
Beyond it was a chamber bathed in soft blue light. Shelves lined the walls, filled with scrolls, vials, and ancient tomes. A pedestal stood at the center, holding a crystalline orb that pulsed with a gentle glow.
"Eira?" Finn's voice called from behind her. "What is this place?"
She turned to see him standing in the doorway, eyes wide with wonder. "Some kind of archive."
Thorne joined them, his expression grim. "We shouldn't linger. Places like this usually come with traps."
Eira stepped cautiously toward the pedestal, drawn by the orb's glow. The moment her fingers brushed its surface, a rush of energy coursed through her.
Visions flashed before her eyes—fractured landscapes, swirling storms, and a figure cloaked in shadows. A voice, ancient and melodic, echoed in her mind.
"The bearer of the blade walks the path of ruin and salvation alike. Seek the heart of the Vale, where the stars shall guide you."
The vision faded, leaving Eira gasping for breath. Her knees buckled, and Finn caught her before she hit the ground.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
Eira nodded, though her limbs trembled. "I saw... something. A warning, I think. We need to reach the Vale of Ancients as soon as possible."
Thorne's brow furrowed. "What did you see?"
She hesitated, the weight of the vision pressing heavily on her chest. "A figure in shadows... and the Vale. We're running out of time."
Thorne's expression darkened. "Then we move now."
They quickly gathered what supplies they could find—dried herbs, a few intact vials of potion, and an ancient map etched on brittle parchment.
As they prepared to leave, Finn held up one of the vials. "Do you think this stuff is still good?"
"Only one way to find out," Thorne said with a grim smile.
Eira couldn't shake the lingering unease as they exited the ruins. The forest beyond was bathed in golden morning light, but it offered little comfort.
They walked in silence, the weight of their discovery pressing down on them. Eira kept her hand on the Whispering Blade, the runes faintly pulsing with energy.
Finn broke the silence. "Do you think the sages will know what to do about your visions?"
"I hope so," Eira said quietly.
Thorne's voice was firm. "If they don't, we'll find another way. Giving up isn't an option."
Eira appreciated his confidence, though doubt still gnawed at the edges of her thoughts. The path ahead was growing darker, and the weight of the prophecy pressed heavily on her shoulders.
As they continued north, the forest began to change. The trees grew taller and more ancient, their trunks twisted and gnarled. Strange flowers bloomed in the undergrowth, their petals shimmering with an ethereal light.
"Stay close," Thorne warned. "This part of the forest is... unpredictable."
Eira felt it too—a subtle shift in the air, as though the very land was alive and watching them.
Finn shivered. "I don't like this place."
"You're not alone," Eira muttered.
They pressed on, the forest growing darker despite the midday sun. Shadows danced between the trees, and strange whispers echoed through the foliage.
Eira's hand tightened on the Whispering Blade. Whatever lay ahead, they had to be ready.
The path was growing narrower when a sudden rustling in the underbrush made them all freeze.
Thorne drew his sword. "Something's coming."
Eira raised the Whispering Blade, its light flaring to life. Finn crouched low, his eyes wide with fear.
The rustling grew louder, and a pair of glowing eyes appeared between the trees.
Eira's heart raced. Another shadowbeast?
The creature stepped into the light—a sleek, silver-furred wolf with eyes that shimmered like starlight.
Eira's breath caught. This was no ordinary beast.
The wolf stared at her, its gaze intense and unwavering. Then it lowered its head and let out a soft whine.
"What in the stars...?" Thorne muttered.
Finn's voice was barely a whisper. "Is it... friendly?"
Eira lowered the Whispering Blade cautiously. "I think it wants us to follow."
The wolf turned and padded into the forest, pausing only to glance back at them.
Thorne frowned. "This could be a trap."
"Or it could be a sign," Eira said, her voice steady.
Without waiting for a response, she followed the wolf into the shadows, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and hope.
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