Chapter 7: Into the Wilds

The road beyond Ironstead was little more than a winding dirt trail that snaked into the wilderness. It cut through dense woods and rocky hills, its path riddled with gnarled roots and loose stones. Serenya stumbled more than once as they moved through the darkness, her exhaustion clawing at her with every step.

Drenic led the way, his movements deliberate and silent, his dagger drawn and ready. His sharp eyes flicked between the shadows ahead and the faint glow of the moonlight filtering through the trees.

“Any chance we’re safe yet?” Serenya asked, her voice low as she struggled to keep up.

“Safe?” Drenic snorted softly, not turning around. “Not even close. Mercenaries like those don’t stop because their first try failed. They’ll regroup, follow our trail, and hit us harder.”

Her stomach twisted. “Then where are we going?”

“To where their coin can’t reach,” he replied.

“And where is that?”

“The Wilds.”

Serenya froze mid-step, staring at his back. “The Wilds? Are you insane? No one survives out there.”

Drenic turned, his expression calm but sharp. “Which is exactly why they won’t follow us there. You want to survive, or do you want to be easy prey for the next group that shows up?”

Serenya opened her mouth to argue but stopped when she saw the determination in his eyes. He wasn’t joking, and he wasn’t wrong.

“Fine,” she said reluctantly. “But if I die, I’m haunting you.”

Drenic smirked. “Deal.”

The Wilds were the stuff of legends, a vast and untamed expanse that few dared to enter. Stories of lost travelers and vengeful spirits surrounded the region, warning anyone foolish enough to cross its borders.

By the time they reached the forest’s edge, dawn had begun to creep over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Serenya paused, staring at the looming trees ahead. Their trunks were massive, their roots twisting like ancient serpents, and the canopy above seemed to swallow the light.

“This is it,” Drenic said, his voice unusually serious. “Once we’re in, there’s no turning back.”

Serenya hesitated. Every instinct told her this was madness, but the weight of the pendant beneath her cloak reminded her of what was at stake.

“I’m ready,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

Drenic gave her a brief nod before stepping into the shadows of the Wilds.

The air inside the forest was thick, carrying a damp, earthy scent that clung to Serenya’s lungs. The trees towered above them, their branches twisting in unnatural patterns, and the faint chirping of insects was the only sound.

Drenic moved cautiously, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. Serenya followed closely, her nerves fraying with every step.

“How far do we have to go?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Far enough that they’ll lose our trail,” Drenic replied. “There’s an old ruin deeper in. We can rest there.”

“Ruin? How do you know about it?”

He glanced back at her, his smirk faint. “Let’s just say I’ve been here before.”

Serenya frowned but didn’t press further. The less she knew about Drenic’s past, the better.

Hours passed as they trekked deeper into the Wilds, the forest growing darker and more oppressive with every step. Strange shapes seemed to shift in the corners of Serenya’s vision, and the occasional rustle of leaves sent her heart racing.

“Do you feel that?” she asked suddenly, stopping in her tracks.

Drenic turned, his eyes narrowing. “Feel what?”

“The air—it’s… wrong,” Serenya said, shivering.

He nodded grimly. “That’s the magic of this place. It’s old, wild, and it doesn’t like strangers.”

“What happens if we stay too long?”

“You don’t want to find out.”

By midday, they reached the ruin Drenic had mentioned. It was an ancient stone structure half-buried in the earth, its walls covered in moss and its entrance framed by jagged, crumbling arches. The air here was colder, heavier, and Serenya couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.

“Cozy,” she muttered as they stepped inside.

Drenic ignored her, his focus on the room around them. The interior was dim, lit only by narrow shafts of sunlight filtering through cracks in the ceiling. Broken statues and shattered pottery littered the floor, and the faint smell of decay lingered in the air.

“This’ll do,” Drenic said, dropping his pack near the wall. “We’ll rest here for a while before moving on.”

Serenya hesitated before sitting on a stone ledge. She unwrapped a piece of bread from her satchel, though her appetite had all but vanished.

Drenic crouched by the entrance, sharpening his dagger while keeping watch. His silence was unsettling, but Serenya decided not to disturb him.

As the hours passed, exhaustion began to overtake her. Serenya leaned against the wall, her eyelids growing heavy.

But as sleep threatened to claim her, a faint whisper broke through the quiet.

Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up, her heart racing. “Drenic, did you hear that?”

He didn’t look at her. “Hear what?”

“The whispering. It was…” She trailed off, her gaze shifting to the shadows near the far wall. The air seemed to shift there, the darkness thickening unnaturally.

Drenic followed her gaze, his posture tensing. “Stay here.”

“What? No—”

“Stay here,” he repeated firmly, drawing his dagger as he stepped toward the shadows.

The whispering grew louder, its cadence sharp and unnatural. Serenya’s breath quickened as Drenic reached the wall, his movements cautious.

Suddenly, the shadows surged forward.

A tendril of darkness lashed out, striking Drenic’s blade as he moved to block it. The force sent him stumbling back, and Serenya scrambled to her feet, panic clawing at her chest.

“What is that?!” she shouted.

“Nothing good,” Drenic growled, steadying himself.

The shadows writhed, forming into a vaguely humanoid shape. Its body was composed of black smoke, and its glowing red eyes burned with malice.

“Oracle,” it hissed, its voice dripping with venom. “You cannot run.”

Serenya froze, her mind racing. The creature wasn’t just magic—it was a hunter, sent specifically for her.

“Serenya, move!” Drenic shouted, snapping her out of her stupor.

The shadow lashed out again, and she barely dodged in time. Her heart pounded as she reached for the pendant beneath her cloak, its familiar hum grounding her.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the magic within.

“Show me what to do,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

A vision flickered before her mind’s eye—a broken statue near the entrance, its base glowing faintly with runes.

“Drenic, the statue!” she yelled, pointing toward it. “Get it to the light!”

He didn’t hesitate. Dodging another strike from the shadow, he grabbed the statue’s broken remains and heaved it into a shaft of sunlight.

The effect was immediate. The runes flared to life, casting the room in a brilliant golden light. The shadow creature let out a deafening shriek as the light pierced through it, its form unraveling like smoke in the wind.

Within seconds, it was gone.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Serenya collapsed to her knees, her hands trembling. Drenic leaned against the wall, his chest heaving as he wiped sweat from his brow.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “that was new.”

She shot him a glare. “New? That thing almost killed us.”

“And you almost got us out of it,” he replied, his smirk returning faintly.

Serenya didn’t respond. Her thoughts were racing, piecing together the implications of what had just happened.

“They’re not just sending mercenaries anymore,” she said softly. “They’re using magic—dark magic.”

Drenic nodded grimly. “Which means whoever’s after you isn’t just rich. They’re powerful.”

Her stomach twisted. “What do we do now?”

He sheathed his dagger, his expression hard. “We keep moving. And we start fighting back.”

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