—Well… she's gone —said Shay, exhaling with resignation as he dropped into a chair beside the doorframe.
Milo stared into the fog for a few more seconds, then turned back inside with a furrowed brow.
—Maybe Billy can help us. This place… it feels frozen in time. Your leg hasn't gotten worse since we arrived, have you noticed?
Shay looked down at the wound. He was right. The blood had stopped flowing, even though it shouldn't have.
—Billy, are you awake? —Milo called out, raising his voice toward the ceiling as if he expected the name to travel through the walls.
Shay scoffed with a bitter grimace.
—I don't think the dead need to sleep.
A long silence followed. Not even an echo responded.
—What now? —Shay muttered, breaking the silence in a tired, quiet voice.
Milo turned to him, casting one last glance down the empty hallway.
—Let's go to the carriage —he said at last—. I'll convince Anthony to let you ride.
Shay gave a half-smile, bitter.
—Good luck with that.
—I don't need luck. I just need you not to talk.
Meanwhile, Dana followed the tracks with determined steps.
The ground began to change: solid earth gave way to a thick, dark mire. She had reached a swamp. The air was dense, saturated with moisture and the rancid smell of rotting vegetation. The Lotus mist blended with natural vapors, forming a murky haze that slid between the trees.
Dana froze.
A splash.
Faint, but clear. Like a foot slowly sinking into swamp water.
She turned her head smoothly, keeping her breathing steady. The mist made it hard to see clearly, but there was something. Someone.
—Show yourself —she said firmly—. I won't hurt you. I just want answers.
Silence. Not even the insects, frogs, or wind dared to make a sound. As if the swamp itself had frozen in time.
Suddenly, it emerged from the murky water.
A creature rose from the fog, rushing straight at Dana. Its body looked as if it were made from the swamp itself: a mass of mud, roots, tangled branches, and patches of moss-covered stone.
It had a humanoid shape, but was grotesquely disproportionate. Long, heavy arms, thick legs like tree trunks, and a barely defined face, hidden beneath a mask of algae and sludge, from which two glowing eyes burned like embers.
The creature charged at her, and Dana reacted instantly.
She leapt back, grabbing a rock mid-motion and hurling it.
The projectile struck the creature's shoulder dead-on with a dry, hollow sound.
Dana raised an eyebrow.
—So you're not all mud, huh?
She stepped forward and threw a punch into the air, generating a blast of wind.
The creature was flung backward, slamming into an exposed root.
The beast roared, this time more savagely.
The swamp exploded beneath its steps. Mud, roots, and water erupted in all directions as that mass of flesh and sludge lunged forward like a living avalanche.
Dana barely had time to brace. Her muscles tensed, ready to dodge—
But it was too fast.
The hit struck her straight in the chest, like a hundred-kilo hammer.
The air was knocked out of her lungs, and her body was thrown several meters back. She landed flat on her back in the mud, sinking into the muck. The murky water covered her up to her sides.
She took a deep breath. Coughed. Spat blood.
The creature was approaching again.
She smiled, confident.
With a single motion, she burst out of the sludge.
The creature turned to her, but too slowly to react.
She landed a direct punch to its face. The echo of the impact cracked like thunder.
The creature flew, crashing through trunks and branches, finally landing beyond the swamp—
Leaving behind the mud that once clung to it like broken skin.
Dana landed in a crouch, breathing steadily.
—You're not as dangerous as you pretend to be.
She sprinted toward the creature without losing momentum, cutting through the swamp like an arrow. When she was close enough, she clenched her fist so tightly the air around it seemed to crackle, as if it were splintering.
A line of dark energy surged up her arm, growing stronger with every heartbeat. And then, the strike.
The impact hit the creature square in its wounded chest. The shockwave burst outward with violent force, shaking the entire swamp. The ground cracked, mud exploded in all directions, and the trees bent as if bowing before an invisible storm.
The creature didn't stand a chance. It was torn apart instantly—shredded into pieces of flesh, roots, and mud that flew through the air and scattered across the terrain.
Dana slowly lowered her arm.
Steam rose from her clenched fist, still hot from the surge.
The creature lay in ruins. But something else caught her eye.
Not far off, beside what looked like a small cave half-hidden among reeds and rotting roots, several objects glimmered. Inside, a faint bluish light reflected off what appeared to be crystals, polished metals, necklaces, broken weapon parts, and strange talismans.
Dana approached with cautious steps.
—I should check that cave… there might be relics —she murmured.
And there were. Several relics had been hoarded inside: ancient ornaments, fragments of coins, rings with dulled stones…
For all its savagery, the swamp creature seemed to have one obsession: collecting.
But the most important thing lay at the back, half-buried in mud.
—Shit… —Dana clicked her tongue as she picked it up—. That ugly bastard's weapon…
Shay's warhammer.
Heavy, crude, with a splintered handle and dented head—but unmistakable.
Dana looked around and found an old leather bag, damp but still usable. She quickly stuffed the relics inside, making sure nothing was left behind, then took the warhammer in hand.
She stopped, her gaze fixed on the trampled mud near where she had faced the creature. She retraced her steps, crouching down with a furrowed brow.
There they were. The same footprints she had followed from the beginning—
but too small to belong to the monster she had just destroyed.
Then she noticed something else.
Off to the side of the clearing, partially erased by the creature's passage and the chaos of the fight, were other marks.
Long. Deep at the front, almost split down the middle.
As if something heavy and curved had pressed into the ground repeatedly.
Some sank deeper than others, as if they were dragged.
Dana rose slowly, her expression hardening.
—I wasn't the only one who came to this swamp recently…
The new tracks led into the swamp's mist along a drier path.
Dana followed them, moving through twisted branches and tangled reeds,
as the daylight seemed to dim inside the thick undergrowth.
A few meters from the creature's old lair, in a slightly elevated, dry area beside a fallen moss-covered tree… it stood.
A massive horse, entirely black.
Its coat shimmered despite the fog, as if the swamp's filth couldn't touch it.
Muscles rippled beneath its skin with each breath.
And its eyes—red as glowing embers—locked onto Dana's with inhuman intelligence.
It didn't move.
It didn't flinch.
It just watched her, as if it had been waiting.
The air grew heavier.
The trees, quieter.
Dana stopped cold and looked up.
She stepped forward, keeping her breathing steady.
The horse remained still. Its red eyes shone intensely, showing no fear, no aggression—only a tense, expectant stillness.
—Easy… —she murmured, never breaking eye contact.
She extended a hand. The horse gave a soft snort, a deep exhale that released a puff of steam from its nostrils.
It leaned slightly toward her. A subtle gesture, but unmistakable.
Dana touched its neck, bracing for a whinny, a jolt—any sign of rejection.
Nothing.
Its coat was warm, thick, soft like the shadow of a storm.
With smooth movements, Dana gathered momentum and leapt gracefully onto its back.
The horse offered no resistance.
—Well, boy… —Dana murmured as she stroked his neck—. From now on, your name is… Nyx. How's that sound? I'll take care of you. Feed you. And if you let me, I'll get you far away from this damned swamp.
Nyx let out a soft snort, almost like approval, and continued walking with steady steps. Dana settled into his back, the bag of relics bumping against her thigh with each trot. They moved on for several minutes, leaving the swamp behind.
Finally, through the trees, she saw it.
The tavern.
Dana smiled. At last.
But then… something changed.
The light around the building flickered, as if the air itself had been pulled tight.
A low hum began to fill the surroundings, resonating more in the bones than in the ears.
The ground trembled lightly beneath Nyx's hooves.
The tavern began to rise.
As if floating, suspended by some invisible force.
A strange energy surrounded it—a bluish-violet glow filled with filaments that moved like threads.
The windows shone from within, but no one could be seen anymore.
Dana pulled the reins. Nyx stopped immediately.
The tavern kept rising… then vanished.
As if it had never been there.
Dana stood in silence, the wind brushing her hair, eyes locked on the spot where, just a second ago, the last trace of her group had stood.
—...What the hell was that? —she whispered, heart tight, her fist slowly clenching.