The forest at night was never quiet. Crickets, owls, the rustle of unseen creatures—always some sound. But tonight, there was nothing. No birds, no breeze. The silence pressed down like a blanket, smothering even the crackle of our campfire.
I sat hunched over, scratching diagrams into the dirt with a stick. Resin schematics, coil sketches, and one very ambitious plan labeled Do Not Try Unless You Want to Die. Lyra crouched across the fire, eyes scanning the dark as she sharpened her blades.
"You're twitching again," she said flatly.
"It's excitement," I replied without looking up. "You wouldn't understand."
Her dagger scraped along the whetstone with extra force. "Excitement is one thing. Drawing glowing lines in dirt until the forest looks like a summoning circle is another."
I was about to protest when the earth trembled. Just once, like a warning. My stick snapped in my grip. Lyra froze, her ears flicking.
Then the trees parted.
It didn't step into view—it emerged, as though the forest itself had decided to peel off and walk. Roots twisted into limbs thicker than pillars, bark formed a chest marked with ancient runes, and glowing moss burned like veins of fire across its torso. Eyes of emerald light stared down at us, unblinking, unmerciful.
The whispers we'd been hearing for days slammed together into one voice that rattled my bones.
"LEAVE."
The fire guttered, nearly snuffed out by the force of the word.
I shot to my feet, hands raised. "Yes! Leaving! Absolutely on board with leaving! Bags are packed in spirit if not in reality!"
The guardian advanced, its steps shaking the ground. Each footfall sank into the soil like a hammer blow, leaving craters where roots spread and anchored deeper. The runes on its arms flared, bathing the clearing in green-white light.
Lyra rolled her shoulders and pulled both daggers free. Her stance was calm, but her jaw was tight. "This is because you stole more than one shard, isn't it?"
I winced. "Maybe… four."
She didn't look at me, but her tone could have frozen lava. "I should stab you and hope it counts as an offering."
The guardian raised an arm, bark and stone groaning as vines coiled around its limb. Energy pulsed through its runes, gathering at its palm like a miniature storm.
"Definitely hostile!" I squeaked.
The blast came. A shockwave of green energy ripped across the clearing. Lyra dove, rolled, and came up slashing. I flung myself sideways, my bracer sparking in protest.
The shockwave hit the fire. It didn't just snuff it out—it erased it. Embers winked out midair like dying stars.
"Okay," I gasped, scrambling behind a fallen log, "so that's new."
Lyra darted in, her blades flashing. Sparks flew as her strike bit into bark. The guardian barely flinched, swatting at her like a man brushing aside a fly. She flipped backward, narrowly dodging a fist that cratered the earth where she'd stood.
"JP!" she barked. "Distraction!"
"Distraction's my middle name!" I lied.
I yanked a rock bomb from my bag, jammed Spiritwood splinters into its casing, and hurled it at the guardian's chest. It detonated midair in a blinding flash. The guardian staggered, vines writhing in confusion.
I punched the air. "Yes! Who's the eco-friendly genius now?"
The guardian roared. The forest roared with it.
Roots tore from the ground around us, snaking like serpents. One wrapped around my ankle, yanking me off my feet. I yelped, sparks flaring wildly from my bracer as I clawed at the vine.
Lyra sliced through it in a blur, grabbing my arm and hauling me upright. "Move!"
We sprinted, but the guardian lumbered after us, every step shaking loose branches from the canopy. Glowing runes lit the forest like lightning bugs in a storm.
"Do we fight or flee?" I shouted, breath ragged.
Lyra's eyes darted, calculating. "We flee. Fighting this thing would take a squad."
"Or… one genius with explosives?" I panted hopefully.
She shot me a glare mid-run. "You'll blow us up before you kill it."
A vine whipped past, missing her by inches. Another slammed into the dirt at my side, showering me in mud. I stumbled but kept running, my bracer sputtering like an overworked engine.
The whispers grew louder, weaving into words that chilled me to my core.
"YOU. TOOK. TOO. MUCH."
I risked a glance back. The guardian loomed closer, its massive arm drawing back for another strike.
Lyra's hand brushed mine, firm and grounding. "JP. Look forward. Just run."
The blow came down—an avalanche of roots and stone, glowing with ancient fury.
We had no time to dodge.