Path 1 – The World Moves On
Mallory had seen many kinds of fear. The raw terror of facing the undead, the slow dread of starvation, the cold realization of betrayal.
But this? This was different.
The people they met in the northern settlements whispered about shadows that moved on their own. Entire families disappearing overnight. A village elder swore he had seen a woman with Mallory's face standing in the fog before his son vanished.
They feared her.
Mallory stood before a burning pyre, her cloak drawn tight against the wind. The villagers had gathered the bodies of the missing, those who had returned only to collapse, drained of life. Their hollowed-out corpses burned as the scent of charred flesh filled the air.
Elara murmured a spell under her breath, the flames turning blue for a brief moment—an old ritual to ensure no dark force clung to the dead.
Greg watched the fire, arms crossed. "I hate this."