The rising sun bled faint gold through the canopy of twisted trees, casting long shadows that crawled across the earth like ghostly fingers. The Shadowfern, ever alive with a sinister hum just beneath the surface, was quiet for now. But the silence had an edge like the forest was merely holding its breath.
Thal stood at the mouth of the cave, arms crossed, his body mostly covered again, though his ragged cloak still clung unevenly around his waist. His burned skin had already begun to harden over in patches, his natural resilience working in slow silence. His short, soot streaked hair moved slightly in the morning breeze, but he didn't blink.
He watched the path ahead the vines, the warped trees, the unnatural stillness of the forest around them. Something about it still itched against his senses. This place had already claimed too much.
Behind him, the others began to stir fully. Tar was already on his feet, rolling his shoulders with a rumble deep in his chest. Nyra stepped out second, her fingers flexing as she adjusted the strap on her axe, her silver hair tied messily back. She looked tired, but her steps were sure. Stronger. Whatever the night had done to her, it hadn't broken her. It had sharpened her.
Chewing on a piece of dried meat, Valen trudged behind her on a piece of dried meat, grimacing with every bite like it offended him personally. "I swear this stuff's made of bark," he muttered.
"I gave you bark yesterday," Luken mumbled as he followed, dragging his staff lazily along the cave wall. His illusion spell shimmered again briefly, maintaining the veil over his Kruul features.
Thal said nothing, only gave a small nod when he saw that they were all moving. That was enough.
"Where to now?" Nyra asked as she approached him, her tone clipped but clear. She wasn't wasting time.
Thal turned toward the south. "Still following the edge of the black river. It'll lead us past the worst of the Fern's growth. After that out into the lowlands." He paused, then added, "We'll find the Archon there."
Valen scoffed. "Still a great name. 'The Archon of Rot.' Really gets the blood pumping."
"Too much of it," Luken murmured under his breath.
Thal moved first, stepping into the brush, his massive form parting the foliage like water around stone. The group followed without another word, instinctively falling into their familiar formation Tar at the rear, Luken near the centre, Valen to the flanks, and Nyra just behind Thal. They knew better than to question it now.
The path was winding, rising with old roots and dipping into the marshy bends of the forest floor. Dead leaves crunched beneath their feet, and far off in the distance, something let out a low, gurgling moan, like the forest was remembering something ancient and angry.
"Do you think the Threshen was the only one here?" Nyra asked quietly as she stepped over a half sunken tree root.
"No," Thal replied simply.
That was enough to keep them alert.
The morning sun filtered weakly through the trees, though little warmth made it through the dense canopy of the Shadowfern. The forest still felt wrong, its quiet not the kind that brought peace but the kind that came before a scream.
They had been walking for some time.
The blackened dirt, twisted roots, and strange fungal blooms no longer drew comment the forest had a way of numbing you to its horrors after the first few miles, yet… the group had found a kind of rhythm.
Tar kept at the back, occasionally glancing behind as if expecting the forest itself to rear up and follow. Luken drifted near the centre, his eyes scanning the horizon with a quiet sense of caution. Nyra walked close to Thal, silent, but with the lingering sharpness of someone not quite done thinking.
It was Valen who broke the quiet, of course. "You know," he said, his voice bouncing between the branches like it didn't care how dangerous it was to speak out loud in cursed land, "I'm still not over that thing being called a Thresh."
Nyra gave a slow blink. "You mean the thing that tried to rip out my spine and wear it like a scarf?"
"Yes. That." Valen gestured with one hand as he nibbled on some dried root, tone casual. "Doesn't the name feel too… polite? Thresh. Sounds like a wheat demon. Or something that lives in a barn."
Luken, who was walking just ahead of him, muttered, "It's short for something worse, probably."
"It felt worse," Nyra said grimly.
Valen added, "Still. Thresh. Not exactly nightmare fuel in name alone."
Nyra looked over her shoulder at him, one brow raised. "Would you prefer something like Soul Eater? Bone Harvester? Flesh Walker?"
Valen held up a finger. "Okay, now you're just making stuff up."
"No. Pretty sure I heard some of those names in stories," Luken chimed in, not turning around. "The kind of stories they use to keep children in their beds."
"Perfect," Valen said dryly. "We fought one of those. I hope you're proud."
Nyra tilted her head, a hint of mischief tugging at her lips. "I am. Especially after the way you reacted when it grabbed your leg very heroic."
"I did not scream," he said flatly. "I expressed urgency."
Thal remained silent. One hand shifted slightly at his side, fingers curling once before relaxing a subtle flicker of something restrained, buried too deep to name... Though he gave no outward reaction, his ears caught every word, his attention as keen as ever beneath that stoic exterior. He walked at the front, silent, his long strides steady and unfaltering, but Nyra could tell he was listening. She always could.
After another mile or so, the trees began to thin slightly. The ground turned to old, petrified stone. And then, without warning, the group emerged onto a ridge a sudden high point that opened into a view that stretched for miles then they all stopped.
Ahead of them, the Shadowfern ended, its roots clawing out into the lowlands like fingers sinking into flesh. Beyond that the scarred, dead lands that once bore fields and roads, now overrun with massive, gnarled roots, twisting like serpents across the earth.
Farther still the city lies Lion's Gate.
Tall stone walls stood like jagged stone teeth on the horizon, their silver gilded towers gleaming faintly in the sun. Flags rippled in the wind, and smoke curled upward in patches from somewhere near the outer defences and between the ridge and the city chaos.
Dozens maybe hundreds of shapes moved across the battlefield. Some of them were unmistakably human, dressed in Lion's Gate's steel and red, formation lines broken, fighting hard. But the others… Even Thal narrowed his eyes.
They were Threshen. That much was clear. But they were… different. Some were larger their forms bulkier, almost armor ed in parts. Others were leaner, faster, twitching like they were constantly vibrating through the air. One leapt across a ravine to crush a soldier with a single twisted limb that ended in a jagged blade of bone but it wasn't just the Threshen. There were others.
Thal's gaze focused. He could see them Kruul. Or… something close to them. Their shapes were familiar, but wrong. Their skin was ashen, their limbs longer, some fused with blackened growths like coral or tree bark. Their armor if it could be called that looked more like organic plating, grown over the body rather than worn.
"They're fighting the city," Nyra said under her breath. "They're trying to push past the outer wall."
Luken took a step forward. "Lions Gate…" His voice faltered.
Valen squinted down at the battlefield. "Well… looks like they've got their hands full. Maybe they'll win. Maybe they won't." He shrugged. "Looks like hell either way."
Nyra turned toward him, frustration tightening her voice like a snapped wire. "They're our allies, Valen. We fight for them."
Valen met her gaze, expression unreadable. "You fight for them."
"Don't do this now," Luken muttered.
Nyra's jaw clenched. She remembered what the Church had called them the three heroes. Strength, Skill, and Will. Titles meant to inspire. Titles that were starting to feel more like chains.
She stepped toward Valen, voice dropping to something quieter but sharper. "They didn't choose us because we wanted the fight, Valen. They chose us because no one else could carry it."
Valen didn't flinch, but his gaze narrowed.
"You think I don't see it? The way you look at them all of them like they're already lost. Maybe they are. But that doesn't mean we leave them behind."
She took another step, close enough now that only he could hear the edge in her voice. "You were called Skill, remember? Not cowardice. So act like it."
Valen's mouth twitched into something between a smirk and a sneer. "I never asked for that title. Didn't want it. Still don't."
Nyra's breath hitched just slightly then hardened. She took another step, her voice losing the restraint it had clung to. "That's not the point. You have it. Whether you like it or not, the world's already watching. They're watching. You think that title means nothing?" She jabbed a finger toward the distant battlefield. "To them, it means hope. To me? It means I know who I'm bleeding beside."
Her tone dropped lower, angrier. "So, if you're going to turn your back now, then say it. Say you're done. Say you don't care if they die. But don't stand there pretending like you're not a part of this. Like you don't matter."
Thal stepped forward in between them quietly, standing at the ridge's edge, his hand instinctively reaching toward his hip for a weapon no longer there. His golden eyes swept across the chaos of the battlefield once again, lingering briefly on the movement, the screaming the pointless violence unfolding beneath them.
"We shouldn't go down there," he said simply.
All eyes turned toward him. He wasn't dismissive, nor was he trying to discourage them. He was merely stating a fact.
Nyra's voice was quieter now. "Why not?"
Thal kept staring ahead. "Because we should remain focused on the Archon. Getting involved here will only delay us."
Luken's fists clenched tightly. "But we can help."
"I know we can." Thal's voice stayed steady, calm despite the chaos below. "But the longer we delay, the stronger the Archon grows. Fighting here risks losing our chance."
They looked at him really looked and saw something distant in his face. Not coldness, exactly, but weariness, like he was reliving something he'd fought hard to forget.
The wind shifted slightly, carrying up the cries of battle. Far below, the blackened roots twisted again, unleashing another wave of Threshen that surged forward like living nightmares. The battle wasn't going to wait and neither could they.
Nyra didn't ask permission. Her breath hitched, a tight coil in her chest unwinding as instinct took over. She broke into a run, boots crunching against dry stone. As she neared the ridge, her eyes locked onto the chaos below Lion's Gate under siege, screams bleeding into the wind. She didn't hesitate. She launched herself from the edge.
For a heartbeat, she hung suspended in the air. The rising sun caught in her silver hair, casting it in a haloed shimmer. Her axe, clenched in both hands, caught the light with a sharp gleam, defiant against the shadow creeping below. A flicker of doubt crossed her mind just a breath of thought about the odds, about the cost but then she dropped.
A heavy thud, a rush of leaves, and she vanished beneath the dense canopy like a spark swallowed by shadow.
"Nyra!" Luken shouted, disbelief sharpening his voice but he didn't hesitate. Staff gripped tight, he sprinted forward and vaulted off the ridge, a protective spell cushioning his landing as he disappeared into the trees after her.
Valen lingered for a moment, exhaling hard as he raked his fingers through his untamed hair a habitual gesture when frustration met inevitability. His eyes flicked toward the canopy swallowing his friends, and he muttered under his breath, "Every. Single. Time." He crouched slightly, calculated, and launched himself from the ridge, landing in a controlled roll before sprinting after them, blades flashing in the dim light.
Only Thal and Tar remained. Thal stood at the ridge's edge, broad frame unmoving, but his fingers flexed once at his sides an unconscious twitch betraying tension beneath the calm, golden eyes fixed on the distant carnage. His jaw tightened, hands flexed in frustration, not fear. This wasn't supposed to be their fight not this, not now. Their target was deeper, hidden somewhere far more dangerous.
Beside him, Tar shifted, the Minotaur's heavy gaze resting silently on Thal. He said nothing, but the question hung clearly in the silence between them.
"They've changed... this isn't right" His eyes traced the blood-soaked field the flames flickering against mangled roots, the wild clash of limbs and metal. For a fleeting moment, the chaos stirred something distant in him, a shadow of memory he quickly buried. Mortals screamed and died for ground already lost, Threshen howling through ranks like rabid nightmares. He loathed it. Yet he knew better than to pretend they could turn away and not be pulled into it.
"Damn it," he growled softly. Then he stepped forward and dropped from the ridge without another word.
Tar followed immediately, landing hard, earth cracking beneath his hooves as he charged through the brush in Thal's wake.
Blood pounding in her ears, Nyra ran. Her blood pounded in her ears, every footfall pulsing with purpose. The forest blurred around her, branches clawing at her armor, roots lunging beneath her boots like the Fern was trying to trip her. Stop her. Swallow her whole but she kept moving.
The warzone spread ahead, and she could already see flashes of steel between the trees. Screams. Fire. The stench of blood and smoke rolled in thick waves from the fields beyond. She burst through the tree line and there it was Lion's Gate.
So close now. The outer wall partially collapsed, its defences lined with mangled corpses and makeshift barricades. Human soldiers were locked in brutal melee with monsters she didn't recognize. A woman screamed as she was dragged beneath a black rooted mound.
Nyra's grip on her axe tightened.
Behind her, Luken stumbled from the trees, sweat already beading down his brow. He saw the carnage, the roots tearing through the soil, and immediately lifted his staff, already whispering incantations. Flames began to swirl around his fingertips.
Valen arrived third, panting. "You two are insane," he snapped but he already had his blades out. He fell into stance beside Luken, covering his flank, eyes scanning for an opening.
Thal and Tar arrived a moment later.
Thal remained quiet, his eyes scanning the battlefield with a distant, unreadable intensity. A faint tension moved through his jaw as if words threatened to form but never did. at the city walls crumbling beneath an onslaught, and at the shifting masses of Kruul like creatures that fought without formation wild, bestial, fused with something unnatural. He moved forward slowly, purposefully, until he stood beside Nyra. She glanced at him her expression firm, but her eyes searching his face for something.
Thal didn't look at her. His gaze remained on the battlefield, unmoving, and for a second, his jaw tensed as if holding something back. "Don't get yourself killed," he said at last, voice lower than usual, carrying something unspoken beneath the words. Then he started walking toward the fight. Not charging just…. walking and the ground shook beneath him as Tar followed.