Morning broke pale and gold over the desolate land as Isla tightened the straps on her satchel. The wind carried the scent of damp earth and moss, and somewhere in the distance, a crow cawed its warning. Caius adjusted his belt, sliding a dagger into his boot while Finn, still unfamiliar with the rhythm of traveling, fumbled with his cloak and supplies.
"You're putting the map upside down again," Caius muttered dryly.
"Oh—right, sorry," Finn said, cheeks flushing. "Still getting used to... this."
Isla gave him a reassuring smile. "You'll learn. Just stay close."
They were preparing to leave the outskirts of the ruined village where they had met Finn the day before. The buildings behind them sat in silence—roofless, ash-laced, long forgotten by the living. The three of them were headed for the sacrificial grounds, the next clue Old Marla had hinted at, in hopes of unraveling the truth behind the Midnight Circle and Isla's missing mother.
As they walked, Finn kept pace beside Isla. His tone was laced with curiosity and that guarded eagerness of someone desperate for answers.
"Why do you think the Circle targets families like yours?" he asked. "Mine... Yours... People who just vanish. There's something they're doing, isn't there?"
Isla paused. "Maybe. My mother knew something. She had the pendant. And they didn't just want her gone... they wanted her silenced."
"And the sigils, the marks—" Finn started.
"We don't know enough yet," Caius interrupted. "Speculation won't keep us alive."
Finn frowned, but nodded. He adjusted his pack and trudged on.
The road was cracked and narrow, twisting through thinning woods. The air grew colder with each step, and a creeping silence fell. Hours passed. The sun hung higher, shrouded behind a veil of pale clouds.
Then—a rustle.
Caius raised a hand, halting them. All three listened. Another sound: something brushing through dead leaves. Not a person. Not big enough. Isla reached for her knife.
The sound circled them in slow, clumsy arcs.
"Something's following us," Finn whispered.
Then from the brush came a flash of movement—low and fast. Caius braced himself.
But it wasn't a beast.
A small dog leapt from the underbrush, its fur matted with dirt. It barked once and tilted its head at them, its eyes large and disarmingly soft.
Finn blinked. "Seriously?"
"It gave me a heart attack," Caius muttered.
Isla crouched. "Come here..."
The dog padded forward, tail wagging, a small bronze tag clinking as it moved. She turned the tag over.
"Melodias," she read aloud.
"We're not keeping it," Caius said firmly.
"He's harmless," Isla replied.
"He'll slow us down."
"We can't just leave him."
Finn grinned. "Well, he did scare us. That's something."
Caius groaned and kept walking. Melodias trotted after them.
---
The day wore on. The road turned to gravel, then to worn stone. Every mile farther felt like a step into forgotten history. Markers along the road bore strange etchings—symbols half-erased by time, twisted like thorns.
The sky dimmed with the slow creep of twilight.
Isla clutched her cloak tighter. "It's getting colder."
"We'll rest soon," Caius said. "We're not far now."
But none of them truly knew how far the sacrificial grounds were. Only that Old Marla had whispered of a place where the Circle first bled the earth.
"We're long far from home " Finn said.
He was staring at the road behind them.
---
Far from their view—
In another place, beneath a dull gray sky, a decaying manor sat cloaked in silence. Its tall windows were shadowed, ivy clinging to the stone like veins. Inside, behind a heavy door of dark wood, a single room glowed with low firelight.
A muscular man with a patch over one eye stood at attention, his leather armor scarred and singed from old wars. He faced a figure sitting in a high-backed chair, turned away toward the fireplace.
Smoke curled lazily from the hearth.
The voice that spoke was low, measured, and inhumanly calm.
"You are not to kill them immediately. You are to make it... difficult. Let them bleed. Let them fear. But Isla Blackwood and Caius Nightshade must not reach the sacrificial grounds."
The bounty hunter grunted. "And the boy?"
A long pause.
"Collateral."
The bounty hunter nodded once. "I'll need half the payment now."
A sack hit the floor by his feet with a metallic clink.
The chair creaked as the shadowy figure shifted.
"Don't fail me."
The fire crackled louder.
As the bounty hunter stepped out of the office, the figure in the chair slowly turned...
But the screen fades to black before we see their face.
---