Into the Shrouded Wastes

The morning air was thick with tension. Even as the sun peeked over the horizon, an uneasy silence settled over the camp. The events of last night still clung to me—the guardian spirit's warning, the mysterious vial in my pocket, the way my power had surged the moment I removed the necklace.

I still didn't know what it meant.

But there was no time to dwell.

"We ride at first light," Kael announced, adjusting his saddle straps. His voice was steady, but his gaze flickered toward me every so often, as if measuring something I didn't yet understand.

Roran grunted, kicking dirt over the last embers of the fire. "The Shrouded Wastes… can't say I'm looking forward to this one."

Marlik stretched, rolling his shoulders. "Oh, come on. What's a little forbidden magic and death curses between friends?"

Roran shot him a look. "You enjoy this too much."

Marlik grinned. "Maybe. Or maybe I just like watching you squirm."

I ignored their bickering and turned to Kael. "How far are we?"

Kael glanced at the map, then toward the dark line of mountains ahead. "Two days' ride. Maybe less if we push through."

I nodded. The faster, the better.

We mounted our horses and rode toward the unknown.

---

The Wastes Begin to Whisper

By midday, the landscape had changed.

The lush forest gave way to dry, cracked earth. The air became unnaturally still. Even the birds had stopped singing. The deeper we rode into the Wastes, the more it felt like the land itself was… watching.

Then, it started.

A voice—no, many voices.

Soft at first, like whispers carried on the wind.

"Turn back."

"You are not welcome here."

"The dagger is not yours to take."

I swallowed hard. I wasn't the only one who heard it—Roran tensed in his saddle, his fingers gripping the reins. Malrik, for once, wasn't smirking.

Kael exhaled slowly. "We're close."

A sudden gust of wind slammed against us, strong enough to make my horse rear back. I tightened my grip, steadying the animal.

That's when I saw them.

Figures—shadows with glowing white eyes—standing along the path ahead. They didn't move. They didn't breathe. They simply watched.

A chill ran down my spine.

"What are they?" I whispered.

Kael's voice was grim. "The Sentinels. Spirits bound to guard the dagger's resting place."

Marlik raised an eyebrow. "Any chance we can just ask nicely and they'll let us through?"

As if in answer, one of the Sentinels raised its hand.

A pulse of pure, ancient energy surged toward us.

I barely had time to react before it hit me.

---

The Vision

Everything went black.

Then—

I was somewhere else.

The sky was dark, filled with swirling shadows. The throne room—the one I had fled—stood before me, but it was wrong.

The air crackled with power. The throne was alive, its black stone pulsing like a beating heart.

And seated upon it—

Vaelric.

His eyes met mine. Golden. Piercing. Unforgiving.

A slow, cruel smile spread across his lips. "You think a dagger will save you?"

The shadows around the throne twisted, shifting into faces I knew.

My father. His gaze empty, his body broken.

Kael. Blood dripping from his lips, a blade through his chest.

Marlik. His smirk gone, replaced by cold, emotionless eyes.

Roran. Reaching for me, only to fade into dust.

Panic surged through me. This isn't real.

Then—Vaelric rose from the throne.

"You can't escape your fate, Elaris," he murmured. "No matter how hard you fight."

I gasped as the shadows rushed toward me.

---

Back to Reality

I jolted awake, gasping for air.

The Sentinels were gone.

Kael was kneeling beside me, his hands gripping my shoulders. "Elaris! Say something."

I shuddered, my body still trembling from the vision. "I—I saw him."

Kael's expression darkened. "Vaelric?"

I nodded. "He knows. He knows we're coming."

Silence fell over the group.

Then, Roran let out a breath. "Well. That's terrifying."

Marlik sighed, rubbing his temples. "I hate magic."

Kael helped me to my feet. "The Sentinels gave you a warning. But we don't stop now."

I steadied myself, taking in a deep breath. The vision had shaken me, but it had also confirmed something.

Vaelric was afraid.

And that meant we had a chance.

I looked ahead, toward the looming ruins of the temple in the distance.

The dagger was waiting.

And we were coming for it.