The forest pressed in around them like a living wall. Every rustle, every shifting shadow, made Jordan's pulse quicken. The villagers' suspicions had already been eating at him for days, but now it wasn't only whispers he felt at his back—it was danger. Real danger.
Ariana walked ahead, staff in hand, her silver hair catching fragments of moonlight that slipped between the canopy. She kept her voice low.
"Stay close. The woods at night are not kind to strangers."
Jordan almost laughed bitterly. Stranger? That was all he'd been since he arrived. An outsider. An anomaly. The Rift-born. And though Ariana tried to defend him, even she couldn't erase the wary glances or muttered prayers from the villagers.
But before he could speak, the sound came again. Not the whisper of leaves. A growl. Deep. Hungry.
The air grew heavy, thick with the coppery taste of iron.
Ariana froze, staff tightening in her grip. "It's here."
From the shadows, a beast lunged. Its body was like a wolf's, but stretched, wrong—limbs too long, jaw unhinged wider than any natural creature. Its eyes burned red, and black ichor dripped from its fangs. A creature of corruption.
Jordan stumbled back. His mind screamed run, but his body refused. The beast snarled, charging straight for him.
And then—something inside him broke open.
Symbols flared across his arms, glowing the same strange blue he'd seen on the Rift. A force surged through him, wild and untamed. His hand shot forward, and a burst of energy exploded outward, hurling the creature into the trees with a crack that shook the ground.
Silence.
Ariana turned, eyes wide. Not with fear—but with recognition. "That power…" she whispered.
Jordan gasped, chest heaving, the light fading from his skin. He swayed on his feet and collapsed to his knees, vision blurring. His whole body screamed from the effort, every nerve aflame.
The beast dragged itself back into the shadows, whimpering, fleeing as though struck by something greater than fire.
Jordan's last thought before darkness took him was Ariana's face—staring not at him, but at the power he had unleashed.
And beneath her awe, there was something else.
Fear.