The Threshold

The fire crackled weakly, its light barely holding back the creeping darkness.

Seraphina sat with her back to a withered tree, one hand resting on the hilt of the Nightbane blade. The whispers had faded, but the silence they left in their wake was worse. It pressed in around them, thick and suffocating.

Alistair sat across from her, his gaze distant, shoulders tense beneath his cloak. He had not spoken much since their journey began, but she could see the weight of his thoughts in the way his fingers flexed against his knee.

She broke the silence first.

"You've been here before."

Alistair's silver eyes flicked to her. "What makes you say that?"

"You knew what we would find," she said simply. "You knew the land would be changing before we saw it for ourselves."

A long pause. Then, finally, he nodded.

"I was sent here once," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "Years ago, when rumors first spread of shadows moving beyond the Vale's border. I was younger then—less cautious, less willing to believe in what I couldn't see."

Seraphina waited, sensing that there was more.

Alistair's gaze drifted past her, into the depths of the forest. "We did not reach the Vale itself. My orders were only to observe. But even at a distance, we could feel it. The stillness, the decay. We lost two men before we turned back."

Seraphina's stomach tightened. "Lost?"

"They disappeared." His voice was flat, but there was an edge to it. "One moment they were there, riding beside us. The next… gone. No sound, no sign of struggle. Just *gone*."

She exhaled slowly, absorbing his words.

"That's why you're so certain this isn't just a legend," she said. "Because you *saw* what it does."

Alistair nodded.

Seraphina ran a finger along the smooth surface of her blade, feeling the weight of its presence. If the Nightbane sword was meant to stand against this darkness, why did it feel as though she was still grasping at shadows?

The fire crackled again, snapping her from her thoughts.

Then—

A rustling.

Faint. Almost imperceptible.

But in this silence, it might as well have been a scream.

Seraphina's hand tightened on her weapon as she rose to her feet. Alistair was already standing, his sword drawn, eyes scanning the trees.

The wind had died again.

But something else had taken its place.

A presence.

It was not footsteps, not a breath of movement through the branches.

It was a feeling—like something just beyond the edge of sight, pressing in.

And then, a whisper.

Not the distant murmurs they had heard before.

This one was clear.

Close.

"*Turn back.*"

Seraphina's breath caught.

Alistair stepped forward, his stance defensive. "Who's there?"

No answer.

The whisper had been neither male nor female. It had not been a voice at all, not in the way one expected sound to carry. It had *bypassed* her ears, settling instead in her mind.

Seraphina's pulse quickened. "It knows we're here."

Alistair did not lower his weapon. "It's been watching us since we crossed into this land."

A chill ran down her spine.

She scanned the trees, her grip tightening on the Nightbane blade. The air was thick with something unseen, something *waiting*.

Then—

A shift.

Not a figure, not a shape, but a disturbance in the air itself. Like a ripple in the fabric of the world.

Seraphina reacted before she could think.

She stepped forward, lifting the sword. The metal hummed faintly, as if responding to whatever force lay before them.

The ripple *stopped*.

A moment of silence stretched between them.

Then, just as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

The forest was still once more.

Alistair exhaled slowly. He did not sheath his sword. "It's testing us."

Seraphina frowned. "Why?"

"Because something doesn't want us to reach the Vale."

She shivered, but not from the cold.

The path was opening.

And something on the other side *knew*.

---

### **A Fateful Choice**

They did not sleep.

The fire burned low as the hours passed, but neither of them trusted the silence enough to rest.

Seraphina remained awake, her thoughts circling like a predator pacing its cage.

Alistair was right. Whatever presence had touched them tonight—it had been a warning.

But she did not turn back.

Could not.

She had held the Nightbane sword, had seen the vision it offered. Whether it was Ronan she had glimpsed or something else entirely, the message was clear.

The Vale was awakening.

And the answer lay beyond its borders.

By the time the first hints of dawn touched the sky, the weight in the air had lessened. The whispers had faded.

For now.

Alistair doused the last embers of the fire, glancing at her. "We move at first light."

Seraphina nodded.

She tightened the strap of her cloak, fastening the sword to her belt. The events of the night lingered in her mind, but she forced them down.

There was no time for fear.

Only forward.

Only the path ahead.

And whatever awaited them at the end of it.

---