Creatures of night

Ophelia's mind wrestled with dreams of fire and shadows, a blinding light splitting the sky before plunging her into darkness. The scream yanked her awake, and her eyes darted open.

At first, she struggled to comprehend what she saw. The creatures were massive, towering figures cloaked in fur that seemed alive, writhing like a living shadow under the firelight. They had no eyes but oversize, bat-like ears that twitched unnervingly, as if listening to the world in ways humans couldn't imagine.

Ophelia's breath caught in her throat. Despite their size and grotesque features, the creatures stood eerily still, sniffing the air as if searching for something. She glanced around camp.

Tig was the first to catch her eye. Her sister's face was pale, sweat streaming down her brow as her lips moved silently. Ophelia realized with a jolt—Tig was casting a shield. It must be what was keeping the creatures from seeing or attacking them. She figured it out. Thank the stars, Ophelia thought, though worry clawed at her. Tig looked strained, her strength waning fast.

A muffled noise drew her gaze. Alex sat crouched, his hand tightly over Pip's mouth. Pip's wide eyes confirmed what Ophelia suspected—she had screamed.

Then, Ophelia's attention shifted to Ember. The Harbinger was glowing faintly, her skin kissed by a faint hue of blue flame. Her eyes burned like azure embers, and her hands moved through the air in a graceful yet desperate dance. Her magic was coming back. But something was wrong. The sparks of energy leaving her fingers dissipated quickly, like a fire searching for fuel and finding none.

Ophelia moved carefully, grabbing the magic book that lay open beside her. She flipped through it as quietly as she could, her hands trembling. Come on, come on… there has to be something, she thought. Her eyes landed on a page and a spell appeared, faint but readable, titled Disremembered.

The spell's description made her heart race: it would make the targets forget their purpose and force them back to wherever they came from. It would not last long, but it might buy them enough time to escape.

But her heart sank at the fine print—she needed the magic of a sibling to cast it.

She looked back at Tig. Her sister was trembling, her shield visibly flickering. She could not ask Tig for help; she was barely holding on. Ophelia's eyes darted to Freya, who sat an arm's length away, watching her intently.

Ophelia mouthed the spell's name and held out her hand. Freya understood immediately, her empathy allowing her to sense the desperation in her sister's heart. Freya grabbed her hand, their fingers intertwining. Together, they whispered the incantation.

"Disremembered," they said in unison. "Go back to your home. There is nothing nor anything for you here. Go home."

A pulse of magic rippled from their joined hands, invisible to mortal eyes but palpable in the air. The creatures froze mid-sniff, their fur smoothing as if calmed by an unseen hand. They turned abruptly and began lumbering southward, their heavy steps vanishing into the distance.

As the magic faded, Tig let the shield drop, collapsing slightly but catching herself on her knees. "Not much time," she whispered. "They will realize soon. Our magic is weak... but we've bought ourselves minutes."

The others scrambled to grab their belongings, throwing everything into their bags. "We run," Alex said firmly, helping Tig to her feet.

The group took off into the night, their breaths coming in quick gasps. Ophelia's heart pounded as the campfire dwindled behind them.

The King's Perspective

Far away but tethered to their location by some dark power, the King observed the campfire through his magic. His dark eyes narrowed as he saw the creatures stumble away, disoriented. The children's presence had blurred and faded, hidden from his sight. All except for one.

The boy.

He could see Alex clearly, his movements sharp and determined. The King's lips curled into a grim smile. The boy was marked by fate, a pivotal force in the prophecy.

"A Doombringer," the King muttered, though the term felt ill-fitting for the truth. The boy's role was a secret, even to himself. His actions, not his intent, would tip the scales. Warnings had been given, but they had allowed him to stay.

The King sighed, a rare glimmer of sorrow flickering across his features. "So close," he murmured. "They are blind to the cost. She must not wake... not ever, otherwise, the Forgotten will consume her."

He waved a hand, his dark robes billowing around him. "No matter. They won't live to see the ruins"

With a voice like a thunderclap, he issued his command to the shadows. "Do not let those children find the ruins. They have been lucky so far, but let us see how they fare when the stars themselves turn against them."

They ran for what felt like an eternity, the forest swallowing them whole. Tig stumbled but caught herself on a low-hanging branch, her breathing labored.

"Keep moving!" Alex urged, gripping her arm to steady her.

"We need to stop," Ophelia said, her voice tinged with urgency. "Just for a moment. Tig can not keep going like this."

"We do not have time—" Alex began, but he was cut off by Pip.

"She is right. Tig needs a break, and we need to figure out our next move."

Reluctantly, Alex nodded, and the group found a small clearing surrounded by dense trees. They huddled together, keeping their voices low.

"Those creatures," Freya whispered. "What were they?"

"No idea," Ophelia said, her hands shaking as she clutched the magic book. "But they're connected to something. I could feel it when we cast the spell."

"they are not going to stop," Alex said darkly. "We need to get ahead of them somehow."

Ophelia glanced at Ember, who sat silently, staring into the distance. Her faint blue

glow had dimmed again, and she looked lost in thought. Ophelia felt a pang of worry. Ember was the key to so much, but she still seemed so fragile, so unsure of herself.

Freya suddenly shivered, her gaze distant. "Something is coming," she whispered, though she could not explain how she knew.

Ophelia tightened her grip on the book. The night felt colder, darker, and the shadows seemed to move with a life of their own.

They would have to stay ahead of the darkness, no matter the cost.