The sky hung low and heavy, a blanket of iron-gray clouds pressing down on the land like a weight that could crush bones. The forest around them thinned, trees becoming gnarled and twisted, their skeletal branches clawing at the wind as if begging for mercy. Snow melted into mud beneath their boots, the frozen earth thawing into a grim reminder of decay and neglect.
Cassius adjusted the leather straps of his worn cloak and glanced at Aerin. She was quiet, her eyes fixed ahead, clutching the pendant tightly in her palm as if it were the last thread tethering her to some fragile hope.
"The Withered Vale is no place for the weak," he said, breaking the silence.
Aerin swallowed. "I don't feel weak," she replied, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her fear. "I just… don't know what I am yet."
He turned toward her, the flicker of firelight in his dark eyes. "That's why you need to find the Watcher. He knows the old ways. The ones that your mother practiced."
Aerin's gaze dropped to the pendant again. The sigil's spiral thorns seemed to writhe beneath the stone's smooth surface, pulsing like a heartbeat.
"Why did she leave this for me?" Aerin asked softly. "If she was so powerful, why not protect me herself?"
Cassius's jaw clenched. "Sometimes power isn't enough. Sometimes the past catches up no matter what."
She looked away, her breath visible in the cold air. Memories swirled—her mother's lullabies, faint and fractured; the warmth of a home long lost; the piercing cold of betrayal.
The journey stretched before them, miles of cursed land and shadowed secrets. The Withered Vale was whispered about in every tavern and palace alike—a place where magic bled out of the earth, where the boundary between life and death blurred like a shattered mirror.
They moved through tangled underbrush and ruined stone walls, remnants of a civilization that had once thrived but was now swallowed by rot and silence.
Cassius paused, scanning the tree line. "We're not alone."
Aerin's heart thudded. "Hunters?"
"Worse." He pulled his dagger free. "Court assassins."
Before she could ask more, a volley of arrows hissed through the air, embedding themselves into the trunks around them. The first wave was a warning—but more were coming.
"Run!" Cassius shouted.
They sprinted, boots slipping in mud, breath ragged as they darted through the dying forest.
Behind them, shadows melted into shapes—figures cloaked in black, faces masked by iron helms, moving with a deadly grace.
Aerin stumbled, and Cassius caught her arm, pulling her to her feet.
"Keep moving!" he urged.
They reached a crumbling archway, once the gate to a grand estate now lost to time. Beyond it lay the open expanse of the Vale.
"We'll lose them there," Cassius said, eyes flickering with hope.
But as they broke into the open, the sky tore asunder.
A storm burst overhead, lightning ripping through the clouds, thunder shaking the very ground.
The rain came fast and cold, soaking them instantly.
Aerin shivered, but something deeper stirred within her—a flame kindling behind her eyes.
Suddenly, the pendant blazed with a fierce red light, pulsing in rhythm with her racing heart.
"Do you feel that?" Cassius shouted over the storm.
Aerin nodded, gripping the stone tighter.
The ground beneath them trembled.
From the cracked earth rose a figure, tall and clad in ancient robes woven with silver and black, eyes glowing faintly beneath a hood.
"The Watcher," Cassius breathed.
The man's gaze swept over them, resting on the pendant in Aerin's hand.
"You carry the burden of the Thorned Oath," the Watcher said, voice echoing like the wind through dead leaves. "And the enemies you fled are but shadows of the true threat."
Aerin stepped forward, drenched but resolute. "Tell me what I must do."
The Watcher raised a hand, and the storm stilled.
"First, you must awaken the Ashen Blood within you. It will bind you to the past and shape the future."
Cassius exchanged a glance with Aerin—equal parts hope and dread.
The journey had only just begun.