Chapter Seven: The Bonefields

The gray haze wrapped around us like a shroud, clinging to our skin and dampening every sound. The crunch beneath my boots sent faint echoes into the silence, each step revealing fragments of bone glinting faintly beneath the brittle ground. It wasn't like the suffocating darkness of the fjord—the air here was cold, sharp, and hollow, like the world itself was holding its breath.

Ghost walked close beside me, his blade still in hand, his gaze scanning the eerie expanse. The jagged spires in the distance grew clearer as we moved forward, their bone-white peaks twisting against the gray sky like skeletal fingers clawing toward freedom.

"This place feels wrong," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It is wrong," Ghost muttered, his tone clipped. "Keep your guard up. This isn't just a grave—it's a battlefield."

I glanced down, my stomach twisting at the sight of broken bones scattered beneath the surface. Some were small, splintered into fragments, while others were massive, jagged edges jutting out like ancient, forgotten monuments. The silence pressed closer, and I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched.

The first sign of life—or something like it—came when we reached the base of the nearest spire. A faint glow flickered in the distance, dancing just on the edge of the horizon. It wasn't natural light—it was cold, pale, and unsteady, like it didn't quite belong.

"What's that?" I asked, my chest tightening.

Ghost narrowed his eyes, his grip on his blade tightening. "Trouble," he said simply. "Stay close."

We moved toward the light cautiously, the crunch of bone beneath our feet the only sound breaking the oppressive silence. The glow grew brighter as we approached, revealing the outlines of two figures standing at the base of a jagged throne carved from bone. Their voices carried faintly through the still air, sharp and heated.

The taller of the two stood rigid, his posture tense as his voice rose in frustration. "You're running from your responsibility," he said, his tone sharp and cold. "You don't have the luxury of choice, Zion."

The shorter figure—Zion—stepped closer, his jaw tight as he glared up at the man. "This isn't my responsibility," he snapped. "I never asked for this, Talon. I never wanted it."

The name hit me like a shock, my heart racing as I realized who we were looking at. Zion—one of the names that had been a lifeline in the fjord, a thread of hope we'd clung to when everything else had felt lost. And standing before him, his features sharper and colder, was Talon.

Ghost tensed beside me, his blade shifting slightly as he muttered under his breath. "Great. Family drama."

We stopped short of the throne, staying out of sight as the argument unfolded. Zion's voice was laced with frustration and defiance, while Talon's tone carried the weight of authority and something darker—something unyielding.

"And now you're letting them influence you," Talon said sharply, his gaze hard as steel. "These so-called friends of yours are only making you weaker, Zion. They're dragging you down."

Zion stiffened, his fists clenching at his sides as his glare hardened. "They're not dragging me down," he shot back, his voice rising with defiance. "They've helped me stand back up. They've helped me fight."

"And what will they do when they see what you're meant to be?" Talon asked, his tone dripping with disdain. "What this place will make of you? Do you really think they'll stay by your side?"

"They're my friends," Zion snapped, his voice fierce. "And I trust them. Maybe you should try doing the same, instead of trying to control everything."

Talon's gaze darkened, but there was a flicker of something else—something almost pained—in his eyes before he buried it beneath a mask of cold authority. "You're a fool if you think they'll stand by you," he said quietly. "But I suppose that's nothing new."

The tension between them was palpable, a crackling energy that seemed to echo in the stillness around us. I glanced at Ghost, my chest tight as I tried to make sense of what we were seeing. But before I could say anything, Zion's gaze shifted slightly, catching sight of us in the shadows. His expression shifted from anger to shock.

"You're here," he said, his voice low and disbelieving. "You actually made it."

softer—relief, maybe, or something closer to it. He stepped forward, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he took us in. "I can't believe you made it," he said, his voice quieter now. "Through the fjord, I mean."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't exactly a walk in the park," Ghost said, his tone dry but edged with a faint smirk. "Good to see you too, Zion."

Talon's sharp gaze flicked toward us, his expression unreadable but cold. "So these are the ones," he said, his tone laced with disdain. "The ones who've been filling your head with nonsense."

Zion stiffened, turning back to Talon with a glare. "They're my friends," he said firmly, his voice gaining strength. "And they've done more for me than you ever have."

Talon's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond immediately. Instead, he took a step toward the jagged throne, his posture rigid as he turned his back to us. "You're clinging to something that won't last, Zion," he said finally. "And it's going to cost you everything."

Zion's fists clenched at his sides, his shoulders tense as he stared after Talon. "I'm not giving up on them," he said quietly, but there was an edge to his voice—one that spoke of hurt as much as defiance. "And I'm not giving up on myself."

The tension hung thick in the air, the silence pressing down around us like the weight of the realm itself. I glanced at Ghost, who gave me a subtle nod before stepping forward.

"Look, I don't know what your deal is," Ghost said, his tone sharp as he addressed Talon. "But Zion's not alone. He's stronger than you think—and if you can't see that, then that's on you."

Talon turned slowly, his cold gaze locking onto Ghost. For a moment, I thought he might respond, but instead, he simply shook his head and looked past us, his expression hardening. "This place will show you the truth," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "And when it does, you'll realize how little your words mean."

With that, he stepped away from the throne, his figure disappearing into the swirling mist. Zion watched him go, his expression a mix of frustration and something else—something quieter and harder to place.

"You didn't have to do that," Zion said after a moment, his gaze shifting back to Ghost. "He's not someone you want to provoke."

Ghost shrugged. "Yeah, well, I've dealt with worse. Besides, someone had to say it."

Zion managed a small, tired smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thanks," he said quietly. "Both of you. For being here."

"We're in this together," I said, my voice steady despite the unease still twisting in my chest. "Whatever's coming next, we'll face it together."

The mist swirled around us, the jagged spires of Skallheimin looming in the distance like silent sentinels. The path ahead was uncertain, but for the first time, I felt a flicker of hope—a fragile thread, but one worth holding onto.

The mist swirled thickly around us as we pressed forward, the brittle crunch of bone beneath our boots the only sound breaking the silence. The jagged spires loomed ever closer, their skeletal forms twisting against the gray horizon like the remains of some long-forgotten giants. Each step felt heavier, the weight of the realm pressing against us like an invisible force.

Zion walked just ahead of me, his shoulders tense and his gaze fixed on the path ahead. Ghost stayed close by my side, his blade resting at his side but ready at a moment's notice. The quiet between us was heavy, unspoken questions hanging in the air like the mist that clung to our skin.

"Is it always like this here?" I asked quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Zion glanced back at me, his expression tight. "You get used to it," he said simply, though there was no conviction in his tone. "But it never feels... right."

"Right," Ghost muttered, his tone edged with dry sarcasm. "Because the field of broken bones and ominous spires isn't unsettling at all."

Zion didn't respond, his focus shifting back to the path ahead. The silence stretched again, broken only by the faint whisper of the wind threading through the mist. It wasn't natural—nothing here felt natural. Even the air seemed lifeless, heavy with the weight of something unseen.

"About Talon," I ventured after a moment, glancing at Zion. "He doesn't seem like someone who's easy to deal with."

Zion's jaw tightened, his steps slowing slightly as he considered his response. "Talon's... complicated," he said finally, his voice low. "He sees the world a certain way—Skallheimin, especially. And if you don't fit into that vision, then you're just... in the way."

"Sounds charming," Ghost said dryly, though there was a sharpness to his tone. "And I'm guessing you don't fit into that vision?"

Zion's lips pressed into a thin line, his silence speaking louder than words. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the weight of something unspoken that he carried like a second shadow. Whatever had fractured the bond between him and Talon, it ran deep.

The first sign of movement came from the corner of my vision—a faint flicker of light threading through the mist like a phantom. I stopped abruptly, my breath catching as I turned toward it. The glow was faint, almost imperceptible, but it was there, dancing just on the edge of the gray haze.

"Did you see that?" I asked, my voice tight.

Ghost followed my gaze, his posture shifting as he raised his blade slightly. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I saw it."

Zion turned toward us, his expression sharp. "Don't follow it," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The lights will lead you into the Veil, and you don't come back from there."

"The Veil?" I asked, my chest tightening.

Zion nodded, his gaze hard as steel. "It's what's left of the ones who came before. Their souls got trapped here, twisted by the realm until there was nothing left but shadows and hunger. They'll try to lure you in—don't let them."

A shiver ran down my spine, the weight of his words sinking in like a stone. The faint glow flickered again, closer this time, but I forced myself to look away, to focus on the path ahead. Whatever the Veil was, I had no intention of finding out firsthand.

As we continued forward, the mist seemed to shift, the jagged spires growing sharper and more defined. The ground beneath our feet grew uneven, fractured bones giving way to larger, more intact remains that jutted out like ancient monuments.

"This place feels like it's alive," Ghost muttered, his tone low. "Like it's watching us."

"It probably is," Zion said quietly, his voice carrying an edge of unease. "Skallheimin has a way of testing you. If you're not careful, it'll find your weaknesses and use them against you."

I swallowed hard, the weight in my chest growing heavier with every step. The shadows in the mist seemed to shift and twist, and I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched—not by the Veil, but by something far worse.

The jagged terrain grew steeper as we moved deeper into the expanse, the brittle bones beneath our feet shifting and cracking with every step. The oppressive mist clung to us, swirling faintly as if it were alive, watching and waiting. Zion led the way, his steps purposeful despite the tension in his shoulders, while Ghost and I followed closely behind.

The ground beneath us shifted suddenly, a low rumble cutting through the silence. I stumbled, my heart leaping into my throat as a crack snaked its way through the brittle earth, splitting the path in two. The rumble grew louder, the ground trembling beneath our feet as a jagged chasm yawned open before us.

"Stay back!" Zion shouted, his voice sharp as he stopped abruptly at the edge of the chasm. The gap stretched wide, the dark void beneath it seemingly endless. A faint, bone-chilling wind rose from the depths, carrying with it a hollow, echoing sound that made my skin crawl.

"Well, that's inconvenient," Ghost muttered, his blade at the ready as he glanced around. "Any brilliant ideas?"

Zion scanned the chasm, his jaw tightening. "There's a way across," he said, his voice laced with conviction. "There always is. Skallheimin doesn't test you without giving you a chance to prove yourself."

I wasn't sure if that was meant to be reassuring, but I nodded anyway, my pulse racing as I stepped closer to the edge. The chasm seemed to stretch endlessly in both directions, its jagged edges glinting faintly in the dim light. A faint shimmer caught my eye—a massive skeletal construct jutting out from the far side, like the remains of a long-forgotten bridge.

"That's it," Zion said, following my gaze. "The bridge."

Ghost raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing it's not as easy as it looks?"

Zion didn't answer immediately. He stepped closer to the edge, his expression tense. "It's not complete," he said finally. "The pieces are scattered. We'll have to rebuild it."

"Of course we will," Ghost muttered, his tone edged with sarcasm. "Wouldn't want things to be too easy."

As if in response, the mist around us began to shift, the faint outlines of jagged bone spires rising from the ground. The skeletal remains scattered across the expanse seemed to come alive, their fragments twisting and shifting as if drawn toward the chasm. The bridge wasn't just broken—it was scattered across the grave-like expanse, waiting to be pieced together.

"This is the trial," Zion said, his voice steady but tight. "We have to work together to rebuild the bridge and cross. If we don't…" He didn't finish the sentence, but the weight in his tone said enough.

Ghost stepped forward, his smirk fading as he scanned the chasm. "Well, guess we'd better get to work," he said. "No sense sticking around to see what happens if we fail."

I nodded, swallowing hard as I turned toward the scattered remains of the bridge. The task ahead was daunting, but as Ghost and Zion moved closer, a flicker of determination sparked in my chest. Whatever Skallheimin threw at us, we'd face it together.

The remains of the bridge stretched across the chasm, scattered like the fragmented bones that littered the ground around us. Massive rib-like supports jutted out from the far side, their jagged edges glinting faintly in the dim light, but the pieces connecting them were nowhere to be seen.

"We'll need to find the missing sections," Zion said, his voice steady despite the tension in his shoulders. "And we'll have to work together to place them. The pieces won't move easily."

Ghost stepped forward, his blade resting at his side as he scanned the area. "Let me guess," he said, his tone dry. "The realm's going to throw something at us while we're at it."

"Probably," Zion muttered. "It always does."

"Great," Ghost said with a faint, unwavering smirk. "Wouldn't want things to be boring."

We fanned out cautiously, keeping close to one another as we searched the jagged expanse for the missing pieces. The mist clung to us like a second skin, swirling faintly around our feet as the ground shifted and creaked beneath us. The brittle remains scattered across the expanse seemed to shift subtly, their edges sharp and unyielding.

It wasn't long before we spotted the first section—a massive slab of bone half-buried beneath the ground, its edges carved with jagged runes that glowed faintly in the dim light. The slab was heavy, unyielding, and it took all three of us to lift it even a few inches.

"Careful," Zion said, his voice tight as we struggled to move the slab toward the chasm. "The realm's watching. It won't make this easy."

As if on cue, the ground beneath us began to tremble, a low rumble cutting through the oppressive silence. I stumbled, my heart leaping into my throat as cracks snaked their way through the brittle ground, splitting the path and forcing us to steady our footing.

"Here we go," Ghost muttered, his grip on the slab tightening as he braced himself against the tremors. "Hold on!"

The rumbling grew louder, the ground beneath us shifting and fracturing as the mist around us thickened. Shadows flickered at the edge of my vision, faint and unsteady, but unmistakable. The Veil was watching, and it wasn't content to let us pass without a fight.

"Keep moving!" Zion shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "We have to place the slab before it's too late!"

With a surge of effort, we lifted the slab and moved it closer to the edge of the chasm. My arms burned with the strain, my chest tight as the weight of the task pressed against me. Ghost's steady presence beside me kept me grounded, his sharp commands cutting through the rising tension as we fought to maintain control.

"Almost there!" he said, his voice edged with determination. "Don't let up!"

The shadows in the mist grew bolder, their faint outlines sharpening as they edged closer. My pulse raced, but I forced myself to focus on the task at hand, the weight of the slab pressing against my chest as we finally reached the edge.

With one final push, we slid the slab into place, the jagged edges locking seamlessly into the skeletal supports on the far side. The runes carved into the bone glowed brighter, a faint hum vibrating through the air as the bridge began to repair itself—one piece at a time.

But the trial wasn't over. The shadows in the mist surged forward, their hollow forms twisting and shifting as they closed in around us. The air grew colder, sharper, as the Veil began to take shape.

"We've got company," Ghost muttered, his blade flashing as he stepped in front of me. "Time to earn that bridge."

Zion stepped up beside him, his own weapon drawn as he squared his shoulders. "This isn't going to be easy," he said, his voice steady despite the tension in his jaw. "But we've come too far to stop now."

The mist was heavier now, clinging to me like a weight as I moved through the fractured expanse. The distant hum of the repaired bridge pulsed faintly behind me, but the sharp echoes of battle reminded me how precarious our position was. Ghost and Zion were holding the line, but the Veil's shadows were relentless—and we needed that final slab.

My pulse raced as I scanned the area, my gaze darting between the jagged terrain and the twisting forms flickering at the edge of the mist. The ground beneath my feet was brittle, every step sending sharp cracks through the silence, but I forced myself to keep moving. We couldn't fail. Not here.

Then I saw it—a massive slab of bone half-submerged in the broken earth, its runes glowing faintly as if beckoning me closer. My heart leapt, hope flaring briefly before the ground trembled beneath me. The mist shifted, and a shadow surged toward me, its hollow form twisting unnaturally as it lunged.

I stumbled back, my chest tightening as I raised my arms instinctively. But before the shadow could reach me, a blade sliced through the air, its sharp edge cutting cleanly through the Veil. The shadow dissolved into smoke, its form scattering into the mist.

"Thought I told you to watch your back," Ghost said, his voice sharp but tinged with faint amusement. He stood beside me, his blade gleaming faintly as he scanned the shadows around us. "Find what you need?"

I nodded, my breath unsteady as I gestured toward the slab. "It's here," I said, my voice tight.

"Then let's move," Ghost said, stepping forward to help me. Together, we pried the slab free from the earth, the strain burning through my arms as we lifted it. The Veil surged again, their whispers threading through the mist like smoke, but Ghost's steady presence kept me grounded.

"Daggs! Ghost!" Zion's voice cut through the chaos, urgent and clear. He was at the edge of the chasm, fending off another wave of shadows as he motioned for us to hurry. "We need that piece now!"

With a shared nod, Ghost and I moved as quickly as we could, the slab's weight a crushing presence between us. My legs ached, my chest tight with exertion, but the sight of the bridge—its glowing runes and jagged edges—spurred me forward.

The shadows closed in, their hollow forms rippling through the mist, but Zion was there to meet them. His strikes were fierce, his movements precise as he cleared a path for us. The weight of the slab pressed against my chest, my arms trembling as Ghost and I maneuvered it into place.

With one final push, we slid the slab into the last gap of the bridge. The jagged edges locked together seamlessly, the glowing runes flaring brightly as a deep hum reverberated through the air. The bridge shifted, its skeletal structure aligning as it finally became whole.

The mist seemed to recoil, the Veil's whispers fading slightly as the bridge pulsed with life. Ghost stepped back, his blade ready as he glanced at Zion. "Is it done?"

Zion nodded, his gaze fixed on the bridge as the glow began to stabilize. "It's done," he said, his voice steady but laced with exhaustion. "We can cross."

The Veil surged one last time, their shadows twisting and rippling as they lunged toward us. Without hesitation, Ghost and Zion stepped forward, their blades flashing as they forced the shadows back. "Go!" Zion shouted, his voice sharp. "Get to the other side!"

I hesitated, my chest tight with uncertainty, but Ghost's sharp gaze caught mine. "Move, Daggs!" he barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We'll cover you!"

With a deep breath, I turned and stepped onto the bridge. The bone beneath my feet was cold and unyielding, but the glowing runes guided my path as I moved forward. The chasm stretched endlessly below me, its depths dark and suffocating, but I kept my gaze forward, trusting Ghost and Zion to follow.

Behind me, the sounds of battle echoed across the expanse, sharp and relentless. The mist swirled, the Veil's shadows clawing against the light of the bridge, but step by step, we pushed forward—together.

The bone bridge pulsed faintly beneath my feet, the runes carved into its surface glowing with an unnatural light that pierced through the mist. The chasm stretched endlessly below, its depths an abyss that seemed to pull at my thoughts, but I kept my gaze forward. Step by step, I moved cautiously, the jagged edges of the skeletal path guiding my way.

Ghost and Zion held the line behind me, their blades flashing as they fended off the Veil's relentless shadows. The clash of metal against smoke-like forms echoed sharply across the expanse, cutting through the oppressive silence. My chest tightened as I glanced back, my heart racing as the mist thickened around them.

"Daggs, keep moving!" Zion's voice was sharp, urgent, cutting through the tension like a blade. "We'll catch up!"

I hesitated, my steps faltering as a shadow lunged toward Ghost. He struck it down with swift precision, his movements fluid and unrelenting, but the effort was taking its toll. "Go!" he barked, his gaze snapping toward me. "We're right behind you!"

Swallowing hard, I turned and pressed on, my boots clanging against the bone bridge as I picked up my pace. The glowing runes beneath me seemed to ripple with every step, the hum of the bridge growing louder as if it were alive, urging me forward.

Behind me, Ghost and Zion moved in unison, their strikes perfectly timed as they forced the Veil's shadows back. The mist swirled angrily around them, the hollow forms of the Veil twisting and clawing against the light of the bridge. But they held their ground, step by step, until finally, they reached the other side.

Ghost was the first to cross, his blade still in hand as he scanned the mist for any lingering threats. Zion followed close behind, his weapon steady but his shoulders tense as he stepped onto solid ground. The mist seemed to recoil slightly, the Veil's whispers fading into the distance as the three of us stood together at the far end of the bridge.

For a moment, none of us spoke, our breaths heavy and uneven as the oppressive tension began to ease. The glow of the runes dimmed slightly, the bridge stabilizing as the trial came to an end. The silence that followed was almost deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of the shifting mist around us.

"That was fun," Ghost muttered, his tone dry as he sheathed his blade. "Let's never do that again."

Zion managed a faint, tired smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "We're lucky we made it through," he said quietly, his gaze shifting toward the bridge. "Skallheimin doesn't let everyone pass."

"We're not just anyone," Ghost said. "Now, where to next?"

Zion didn't answer immediately. His gaze lingered on the bridge for a moment longer before he turned to face us fully. "Before we go any further," he said, his tone quieter but firm, "I need to know—why are you here? Why did you come to Skallheimin?"

I hesitated, glancing at Ghost before taking a deep breath. "It's a long story," I said finally, my voice steady but laced with the weight of everything we'd been through. "But you deserve to know."

Zion's gaze lingered on me, sharp and expectant. The mist pressed closer, and for a moment, the heavy silence felt as suffocating as the darkness of Shadowfjord itself. I took a deep breath, steadying myself before speaking.

"You already know Nyx and I never got along," I began, my voice steady but tinged with tension. "She only ever tolerated me because of Diablo. When Diablo left to run an errand…"

Ghost shifted beside me, his arms crossed and his expression dark. "And then she made her move," he muttered, his tone clipped.

I nodded, the bitterness rising in my chest. "She left me in Shadowfjord," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "Said I didn't belong—like it was some cruel punishment for something I didn't even do. She didn't care what happened to me after that."

Zion's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "And she just abandoned you there?" he asked, his voice low and simmering with anger.

"She did," I said quietly. "And the worst part is, I think she wanted me to break. To give up."

Ghost let out a sharp breath, he had his signature smirk but it was edged with defiance. "Joke's on her," he said. "Daggs made it out, and he's stronger for it."

Zion nodded, though his expression remained tense. "You survived Shadowfjord," he said quietly. "That's not something just anyone can say. But why are you here now? Why Skallheimin?"

"Because of what Nyx did," I admitted. "I ran into Ghost there, and together we fought our way through. But I'm not just trying to survive anymore—I'm trying to figure out why. Why she did it? Why she left me in that place? And if there's more to this than she ever let on."

The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of my words settling over us like the mist that clung to the air. Ghost stepped closer, his sharp gaze steady as he added, "Nyx might've underestimated Daggs back then, but she's not out of the picture. We both know she doesn't just drop things and walk away."

Zion's expression darkened, his gaze fixed on me. "If you're looking for answers," he said finally, "you might not like what you find. Skallheimin doesn't just test you—it forces you to confront what you've been running from."

"Then it's a good thing I'm not running anymore," I said firmly, my voice steady despite the tension in my chest. "Whatever's waiting for us here, I'll face it. I have to."

The faintest hint of a smile crossed Zion's face, though it was fleeting. "Then we face it together," he said. "But this isn't over yet. Not by a long shot."

Ghost snorted, his tone edged with dry humor. "Figures. More bone monsters, more drama, and now Daggs' family issues too. Sounds like we're in for a great time."

Despite myself, I smiled faintly, the weight on my chest easing just slightly. Together, we turned toward the path ahead, the jagged spires of Skallheimin looming in the distance like silent sentinels. The bridge was behind us, but the real challenges were still to come.