The ghoul's corpse lay still, its head severed, its flesh still smoldering from the lingering effects of Arlan's magic. The stench of decay mixed with the cold morning air, and for a moment, the only sound was their breathing—heavy and uneven.
Arlan wiped sweat from his brow, his heart still pounding from the fight. This hadn't been an ordinary hunt. Something was wrong.
Leila groaned as she flexed her injured arm, Mira still tending to the wound. "That thing was too fast. Too strong. Ghouls don't fight like that."
Tomas shook his head. "It wasn't just strong—it reacted to magic differently. Mira's light spell hurt it, but Arlan's… did something else."
Arlan tensed. He didn't like the way Tomas said that.
"What do you mean?" Mira asked, eyes narrowing.
Tomas gestured at the body. "The way it moved after Arlan hit it. It was like…" He hesitated, searching for the right words. "Like it recognized him."
The others turned to look at Arlan.
He kept his face blank. "It was probably just weak to my magic."
Mira didn't look convinced, but she let it go—for now.
Beren sighed, nudging the corpse with his boot. "Well, we did the job. Let's grab proof and get out of here before something worse shows up."
Leila shuddered. "Great idea. I've had enough 'ghoul' for one day."
They cut off the creature's clawed hand—standard proof for a completed hunt—and wrapped it in cloth before making their way back toward town.
But Arlan couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching them.
Duskhaven – Guild Hall
The moment they stepped into the guild, Gareth gave them a raised eyebrow. "Back already?"
Tomas dropped the wrapped ghoul hand onto the counter. "You tell me. That thing wasn't a normal ghoul."
Gareth frowned, unwrapping the cloth carefully. The moment he saw the blackened claws and the unnatural length of the fingers, his expression darkened.
"This isn't good," he muttered.
Mira crossed her arms. "We noticed."
Gareth sighed, rubbing his temples. "Ghouls don't evolve like this—not naturally. Either someone's been messing with magic they shouldn't… or something else is waking up."
Arlan's stomach twisted at those words.
Gareth glanced between them. "You're sure this was the only one?"
Leila exhaled. "We searched the ruins. No sign of another."
Gareth didn't look convinced, but he nodded, pulling a few silver coins from beneath the counter. "Job's done. Payment as promised."
Beren grinned, scooping up his share. "Easiest hunt we've done."
Tomas gave him a look. "Leila nearly lost an arm."
Beren shrugged. "Mostly easiest hunt."
Leila smirked. "I'm charging you extra for that comment."
As the others laughed, Arlan leaned on the counter, lowering his voice so only Gareth could hear. "If more of these show up, what happens?"
Gareth's expression hardened. "Then we have a much bigger problem."
Arlan swallowed. That was exactly what he was afraid of.
A Private Conversation
Later that night, after the others had gone to rest, Arlan sat on his bed in the attic, staring at the ceiling. Bones was curled up near his shoulder, clicking his teeth softly.
Something had been off about the ghoul.
It had recognized him.
Or, more accurately—it had recognized his magic.
Arlan sighed, rubbing his hands together. He had no real control over what he was doing. His abilities were growing, but he still had no idea how they worked—or why.
The amulet in his pocket pulsed faintly.
Arlan froze.
The whispers returned, soft and cold.
"You are getting stronger."
Arlan's throat went dry. He pulled the amulet out, staring at the violet gemstone in the center. "And you're talking more."
A chuckle echoed in his mind. "You are starting to listen."
Arlan clenched his jaw. "What was that thing? The ghoul?"
There was silence for a moment, then a whisper—so faint he barely heard it.
"It was just the beginning."
Arlan's grip tightened on the amulet.
That was exactly what he had been afraid of.