LIGHT

The growls of the watchers grew louder, vibrating in the air around us like the ominous toll of a bell. Every step forward felt like running through quicksand, the oppressive darkness clawing at our heels. Sol's light flickered like a dying flame, and I could see the strain etched into his face.

"We can't keep this up," Tin muttered, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of growls and cackles.

Grey suddenly stopped, his scarred hand glowing faintly in the darkness. "This way," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around us.

"How do you know?" Hound asked, his tone laced with skepticism.

Grey didn't answer, his glowing scar pulsating like a heartbeat as he turned to lead us. Something about the way he moved—deliberate, certain—silenced any further questions. We followed him, the watchers closing in, their twisted forms shifting in and out of the shadows.

The terrain beneath our feet changed abruptly, the rocky ground giving way to soft, damp earth. The air grew colder, heavier, as if the Mists themselves were reaching out to pull us in. My scars burned hotter with every step, and I could feel the watchers' presence pressing closer, their growls almost deafening.

Then I saw it: a faint light flickering in the distance.

"There," I said, pointing toward the glow.

Grey nodded, his scar glowing brighter as if it were guiding us toward the light. We stumbled toward it, our breaths ragged, our movements frantic. The light grew stronger, revealing the silhouette of a hooded figure standing motionless amidst the Mists.

The figure held a lamp, its glow pale and eerie, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly into the fog. As we drew closer, the watchers' growls turned into guttural howls, their twisted forms circling just beyond the reach of the light.

"Who is that?" Blade whispered, her voice tense.

The figure didn't move, their face obscured by the hood. The lamp's glow intensified as the watchers pressed closer, the light shifting from pale to a brilliant, golden hue. The air grew warmer, the oppressive chill of the Mists retreating under the intensity of the light.

The watchers recoiled, their elongated limbs twisting and writhing as the light grew brighter. They howled, a sound that was both furious and pained, their forms dissolving into the shadows.

The lamp flared suddenly, its light as blinding as the sun. I raised my hand to shield my eyes, but the brilliance overwhelmed me. My scars burned fiercely, the word "RUN" searing into my mind before everything went black.

---

I woke to the sound of voices—low murmurs that echoed softly, as if the air itself was holding its breath. My body ached, every muscle heavy with exhaustion, but the oppressive chill was gone. The warmth was unfamiliar, soothing.

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the soft light filtering through the mist. We were no longer in the barren expanse. Instead, we lay on a cobblestone street surrounded by towering structures cloaked in vines and moss. The Mists hung thick in the air, but they didn't carry the same suffocating weight as before.

The others stirred around me. Sol groaned softly, his glow faint but steady. Tin and Hound sat up, their eyes wide as they took in the unfamiliar surroundings. Blade was already on her feet, her blade drawn, her gaze sharp and searching.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"The figure," Blade said, nodding toward the edge of the street.

I followed her gaze and saw the hooded figure standing silently, the lamp in their hand dim now, its golden glow reduced to a faint ember.

"Where are we?" Tin asked, his voice trembling.

The figure finally moved, their hooded head tilting slightly as if observing us. Their voice, when it came, was soft but resonant, cutting through the mist like a bell.

"You're safe," they said. "For now."

The cryptic words sent a shiver down my spine. "Safe where?" I pressed.

The figure didn't answer immediately. Instead, they turned and began walking down the cobblestone street, their lamp casting a faint glow that illuminated their path.

"We should follow them," Grey said, his voice calm but firm. His scar had stopped glowing, but he looked certain, as though he knew this was the right course.

Blade hesitated, her grip tightening on her weapon, but after a moment, she nodded. "Stay alert," she said, her tone commanding.

We followed the figure through the mist-shrouded streets, the air thick with an eerie silence. The settlement was unlike anything I'd seen before—ancient and overgrown, its buildings leaning against one another like weary travelers. Lanterns hung from poles, their lights flickering faintly, casting long shadows that danced across the cobblestones.

The figure led us to a large structure at the center of the settlement—a towering hall with arched windows that glowed faintly from within. They stopped at the entrance, turning to face us.

"Rest here," they said, their voice soft but firm. "You'll need your strength for what lies ahead."

Before any of us could ask what they meant, the figure stepped back into the Mists, their lamp's glow fading until it was swallowed by the fog.

"What lies ahead?" Tin muttered, his voice uneasy.

No one answered. The question lingered in the air, heavy and foreboding, as we stepped into the hall and the door creaked shut behind us.