The fire crackled in the hearth, its orange glow dancing against the walls of the old hunting cabin. The warmth was comforting, but it did little to dispel the tension that clung to the air like a heavy fog. Outside, the forest stood silent, an eerie stillness settling over the land. The only sounds were the occasional rustling of the leaves in the wind and the distant call of an owl.

Sioux sat cross-legged on the floor, their eyes fixed on the flickering flames, though their mind was far from the fire. Every so often, they would glance at Caedric, who was sitting at the far corner of the cabin, his back against the wall, watchful as ever. He was the picture of calm, but Sioux knew better. There was a quiet intensity in his eyes that spoke volumes, a silent understanding of the danger that loomed just beyond the reach of the firelight.

They didn’t speak much. Words felt unnecessary between them now. Their partnership had transcended simple dialogue—it was a shared understanding, a silent pact forged through mutual survival. But even in the silence, Sioux couldn’t shake the gnawing sense of dread that had settled in their chest. Something was wrong. They weren’t alone.

Sioux’s eyes darted to the window. The faintest glimmer of moonlight filtered through the cracks in the shutters, casting jagged lines of pale light across the wooden floor. For a moment, they swore they saw something move—just a flash, a shadow slipping between the trees. But when they blinked, it was gone.

A cold shiver ran down their spine.

They shook their head, trying to convince themselves that it was nothing. The stress, the fatigue, the constant running—it was all taking its toll. But even as they told themselves this, they couldn’t ignore the gut feeling that something was out there, watching them.

Their hand unconsciously moved to the hilt of their blade, the cold steel a familiar comfort against their palm. The sigil’s pull still thrummed in their veins, its energy like an insistent whisper, urging them forward. But it wasn’t the sigil’s call that had unsettled them. No, this was different. This was a presence—a feeling of being hunted, of something lurking in the shadows, just beyond the light of the fire.

Caedric’s voice broke the silence, low and steady, but it held a sharp edge. “Something’s out there, isn’t it?”

Sioux’s breath caught in their throat. They hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even moved to give a signal, but Caedric’s instincts were as sharp as ever. It was as if he could feel the same pull, the same weight in the air. 

Sioux nodded slowly, their grip tightening on the blade. “I think so. There’s something out there, Caedric. I don’t know what it is, but…” They paused, their eyes scanning the dark window once more. “I don’t think it’s human.”

Caedric didn’t respond right away. He merely stared at Sioux for a moment, as if weighing the words carefully. Then, without another word, he stood up, moving quietly toward the door. The muscles in his back rippled beneath his shirt, his movements fluid, instinctive. Sioux’s heart skipped a beat.

"Stay close," he said quietly.

The door creaked open, and for a brief moment, the sound of the outside world—the chirping of crickets, the wind rustling through the trees—filled the space. But that peaceful noise was shattered almost instantly by a low, guttural growl that echoed from the trees, sending a chill through Sioux’s bones.

A growl that wasn’t human.

Sioux’s body tensed, every muscle coiled and ready. The shadows in the trees seemed to deepen, the very air thickening as something moved just outside their sight. The growl came again, closer this time, accompanied by the sound of leaves crunching underfoot. It was heavy, unmistakably predatory.

Sioux stepped toward the door, their heart pounding in their chest. They didn’t know what it was, but they could feel it. Something ancient, something dark, prowled just beyond the cabin, its presence sending a ripple of dread through the air. The sigil in their chest seemed to hum louder, a warning.

“Stay back,” Sioux hissed at Caedric, voice strained. The last thing they wanted was for Caedric to get involved in whatever this was.

But Caedric didn’t listen. He moved to stand beside them, his eyes narrowed, his hand resting on the hilt of his own blade. He wasn’t going to leave Sioux’s side.

“Whatever it is,” he muttered, voice low, “we face it together.”

Another growl echoed from the shadows, this one far closer than before. Sioux’s eyes darted toward the tree line. In the pale light of the moon, they saw something shift—a figure, just barely visible, but unmistakable. It was tall, almost unnaturally so, with limbs that twisted and bent in ways that defied nature. Its skin was a sickly gray, its eyes glinting like shards of glass, and a mouth too wide for any creature they had ever seen, lined with jagged teeth.

The creature, if it could even be called that, moved again, creeping along the edge of the clearing. It was watching them—waiting.

“What is that?” Sioux whispered, their voice shaky despite their attempt to stay calm.

Caedric’s gaze never wavered. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”

The figure in the shadows paused, its eyes locking onto Sioux with an unsettling intensity. It wasn’t just a predator; it was something worse. It was as if the creature knew who Sioux was, knew the significance of their bloodline. A low hiss slipped from its throat, and Sioux could feel their pulse quicken, a primal fear rising in their chest.

But before they could react, the sound of footsteps—heavier, more deliberate—cut through the silence. The creature’s head whipped around, its glowing eyes narrowing, before it melted back into the darkness, vanishing as swiftly as it had appeared. The growl died, replaced by the eerie silence that had preceded its arrival.

Sioux exhaled a breath they didn’t realize they had been holding, their body trembling with the aftershock of fear.

“What the hell was that?” Sioux whispered, but Caedric was already moving toward the door, his expression grim.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “But I think we’ve been found.”

Before Sioux could respond, the unmistakable sound of boots crunching through leaves reached their ears. More footsteps. No longer the predatory, slinking movement of whatever the creature was—but the deliberate approach of trained soldiers.

The Harbingers.

The sound of their pursuit was unmistakable, echoing through the trees like a distant drumbeat. They had followed the scent, and they were drawing closer by the second. The creature—whatever it was—had vanished, but the danger was far from over.

Caedric turned to Sioux, his eyes sharp and focused. "We don’t have much time. We need to move—now."

Sioux nodded quickly, heart pounding in their chest. They could feel it. The air was thick with danger. And the looming presence of the Harbingers wasn’t the only threat they had to face.

The question lingered in their mind as they darted out the door, the night air cold against their skin. Who—or what—was that creature? And what did it want with them?

But as they moved deeper into the forest, the whispers in the wind grew louder, a warning not just of the Harbingers, but of something far older. Something more powerful. Something that might have been waiting for them all along.