Chapter 19: The Hunter

The ruins loomed behind them, fading into the distance with each step. The fractured sky cast eerie hues across the land, painting the jagged remains of a world lost to time. Elliot's breath was steady, but his grip on the shard was tight. The weight of their journey pressed down on him, heavier than ever.

Seris walked beside him, her usual sharp gaze flicking to their surroundings. The silence between them was not uncomfortable—rather, it was filled with unspoken thoughts, the aftermath of their trials still lingering. The Revenant, the Warden's warnings, the revelation of the shard's power—it was too much to fully process in the moment. And yet, they had no choice but to move forward.

The wilderness ahead stretched on, wild and untamed. The path beneath them was barely a path at all, with gnarled roots snaking through the cracked earth, remnants of a forgotten road long reclaimed by nature. The air was damp, thick with the scent of moss and decay. Every now and then, a distant cry echoed through the expanse, a reminder that they were not alone in this place.

Seris finally spoke. "We need to find shelter before nightfall."

Elliot nodded. "Agreed. And… we need to figure out our next move." He glanced at the shard in his hand. "This thing—it's leading us somewhere. I can feel it. But I don't know if it's guiding us… or luring us."

Seris didn't respond immediately, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "Then we tread carefully."

The wind stirred, rustling the overgrown foliage. Elliot's instincts tensed a second before he heard it—the unmistakable whistle of something slicing through the air.

He barely ducked in time.

An arrow embedded itself in the trunk of a tree mere inches from where his head had been. Seris reacted instantly, drawing her dagger as she turned to face the direction of the attack. Elliot followed suit, his pulse pounding as he scanned the shadows.

A figure emerged from the dense brush, moving swiftly. Dark, worn leather, a hood pulled low, but not enough to hide the glint of golden eyes assessing them with a predatory sharpness. A blade flickered in their grip, the steel catching the dim light as they moved with practiced precision.

Seris stepped forward, her stance balanced. "You shouldn't have done that."

The stranger didn't answer. Instead, they lunged.

Steel clashed against steel as Seris met the attack head-on. Sparks flew between them, the sound of metal ringing through the wilderness. Elliot stepped back, positioning himself to intervene if necessary, but something about their attacker's movements caught his attention.

It was not a wild, reckless assault. It was precise. Measured. Testing.

Elliot gritted his teeth, raising his voice. "Who are you? Why attack us?"

The figure broke away from Seris, shifting just enough to keep both of them in their line of sight. "You're carrying shards." The voice was smooth, controlled. "That makes you a problem."

Elliot exhaled sharply. "A problem for who?"

A pause. Then, a slow tilt of the head. "For those who don't want you to have them."

Seris remained poised, blade ready, but her expression had shifted from hostility to something closer to calculation. "And you're one of them?"

The stranger smirked. "Not exactly."

Elliot tightened his grip on his weapon. There was something about this person—an edge of danger, yes, but not the kind that came with mindless aggression. They had purpose. Intent. And yet, they had hesitated in delivering a killing blow.

"I don't suppose we can settle this without more fighting?" Elliot tried, watching closely.

The stranger let out a quiet breath, almost amused. "Depends. Are you going to make it easy?"

Seris shifted slightly, the tension in her shoulders lessening just a fraction. "If we were easy targets, you wouldn't be talking right now."

Another pause. The golden eyes studied them both before, at last, the blade lowered—if only slightly.

"I've been tracking others like you. Those who seek the shards." The stranger's voice was unreadable. "Some of them are already dead. Some of them deserve to be. And some… are in over their heads."

Elliot narrowed his eyes. "And which do we fall into?"

The stranger didn't answer immediately. Then, a small smirk. "Not sure yet."

Seris exhaled slowly. "Are you going to keep shooting at us, or do we get to keep walking?"

The stranger stepped back slightly, their posture shifting into something less overtly hostile. "I'll make you a deal. I won't kill you—yet. But if you get in my way, I won't hesitate."

Elliot and Seris exchanged glances. It wasn't exactly an alliance. But it also wasn't an immediate death sentence.

"…Fair enough," Elliot said at last.

The stranger sheathed their weapon. "Name's Dain."

They turned without another word, slipping back into the shadows of the wilds as easily as they had appeared.

Elliot exhaled, the weight of the encounter settling over him. "That could've gone worse."

Seris watched the direction Dain had disappeared. "Could've gone better too."

They continued forward, the ruins now distant behind them. The road ahead remained uncertain, but one thing was clear—there were more forces at play in this world than they had realized. And not all of them were enemies. At least, not yet.