The forest swallowed him.
Vael moved forward, his steps quiet, the dirt road fading beneath his feet. The air here was thicker—colder. Shadows stretched between the trees, twisting unnaturally, as if watching him.
The whispers in his mind curled around his thoughts, their voices eager.
Follow.
The stranger was gone, but their presence lingered. Vael's grip on his sword tightened. He didn't trust them. He didn't trust anything anymore.
But he had nothing else.
A broken village. A dead sister. A cursed crown. That was all that remained of him.
The wind shifted, carrying a foul stench—blood, rot, something worse. Vael stepped over another body. Then another. The deeper he walked, the more corpses he found. Torn armor, shattered bones. Whatever killed them was not human.
His breath came slow, steady. He was no stranger to death now.
A noise.
Low. Guttural.
Vael stopped. The trees ahead were darker, moving unnaturally, bending in ways they shouldn't. And then he saw it.
Something crouched over a corpse, its shape barely human. Its skin was pale, stretched too tight over sharp bones. Its mouth… too wide, filled with jagged teeth. It tore into the body beneath it, ripping flesh apart with slow, deliberate hunger.
Vael felt no fear. Only curiosity.
The creature lifted its head. It had no eyes, only hollow pits of darkness.
It sniffed the air.
Then, it turned toward him.
Silence.
A slow grin stretched across its face, blood dripping from its lips.
"You are not afraid," it rasped. Its voice was wrong—layered, broken, like multiple voices speaking at once.
Vael didn't move. His hand rested on his sword.
"I don't fear dead things," he said.
The creature chuckled, a wet, choking sound. "Not dead. Not alive." It tilted its head, studying him. "Like you."
The whispers in Vael's mind stirred. The creature could sense it—the crown, the power.
Its grin widened.
"You wear a curse," it said. "And it calls to me."
Then it moved.
Fast.
Vael barely had time to react before the creature lunged. Its claws slashed through the air, inches from his throat. He twisted, shadows swirling around him, his sword meeting flesh.
The creature screeched, but it didn't stop.
Another strike. Vael dodged, stepping back, the shadows shifting around his form. He could feel the crown's power pulsing, pushing him forward.
The whispers screamed.
Faster. Stronger.
Vael moved without thinking. His blade cut through the creature's chest, black blood spraying into the air. The creature staggered, its grin faltering.
Then it laughed.
"You are like us," it rasped, even as its body trembled. "And you do not even know it."
Vael didn't let it speak again.
His hand clenched, and the shadows obeyed.
They struck like spears, impaling the creature from every angle. Its body twisted, shuddering, but it did not scream. It only grinned, even as it fell apart.
Then it was gone.
The whispers inside Vael's mind coiled tighter, pleased.
He exhaled slowly, watching the blackened remains sink into the dirt.
The road stretched on ahead, endless, waiting.
He kept walking.
There was no turning back.