The forest was alive with the sound of the wind, but Sioux knew that it wasn’t the wind that made the hairs on the back of their neck stand on end. The air was thick with the tension of the moment, each rustling leaf an omen, every snap of a twig a herald of something far worse than just the hunt. The Harbingers were close, too close, and Sioux could hear their steady march cutting through the underbrush. It was no longer a chase—it was a countdown.

“We need to move,” Sioux said sharply, their voice a low rasp, but Caedric didn’t need the command. They both knew what was coming.

The cabin had been abandoned in a flash. The time for hiding was over.

They plunged into the trees, the branches reaching down to claw at their skin, but Sioux barely noticed. Their thoughts were on the approaching storm—the Harbingers, with their unrelenting pursuit, the unknown creature lurking just outside, and the ever-present thrum of the sigil pulling them forward. Every instinct in Sioux’s body screamed to run, to flee deeper into the forest and out of sight. But they knew the reality: running wasn’t enough. The Harbingers were tracking them, and the longer they evaded, the stronger their resolve would grow.

Sioux glanced sideways at Caedric. His face was set in a grim expression, his muscles coiled like a panther preparing to spring. He was waiting, watching for any sign of danger. And then, the sound that Sioux had been dreading finally reached their ears—a snap, and the unmistakable chorus of voices, low and harsh, filtered through the trees.

“We’re surrounded,” Caedric muttered, his voice steady but laced with a tense undercurrent.

Sioux knew it too. The scent of blood hung heavy in the air, thick with the scent of the Harbingers—the creatures they had once only heard of in whispered legends, now real and closing in.

Suddenly, the night was shattered by the sound of footsteps—too many to count, too fast, too coordinated. Shadows moved between the trees, their forms obscured by the dense underbrush, but Sioux could see enough. Tall, cloaked figures emerged from the forest’s edge. Their eyes gleamed with an unnatural light, cold and devoid of humanity, and their movements were sharp, calculated, as if they had done this a thousand times before.

The Harbingers.

“You’ve made a grave mistake, dhampir,” came a voice from the shadows—a deep, throaty growl, like the sound of iron scraping against stone. It was the leader, Sioux could tell. His presence was a weight in the air, oppressive and suffocating.

Sioux’s grip tightened around their blade, their pulse quickening as the Harbingers advanced. They had no time to waste on words, no space for diplomacy. They were here to kill, to eliminate the last of the bloodline.

Caedric moved in a blur, his blade flashing in the dim light. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t falter. He swung, the steel of his sword cutting through the air with a deadly grace. But the Harbingers were swift, just as deadly. One of them—a hulking figure draped in shadows—lunged forward, its monstrous form distorting as it leapt, its claws gleaming with malice.

“Watch out!” Sioux shouted, but it was too late. The creature was already upon Caedric.

He parried with a fluid motion, the sound of metal clashing against claws ringing out through the trees. The impact sent Caedric stumbling back, but he regained his footing instantly, his eyes never leaving the beast’s glowing ones.

Sioux’s own opponent appeared before them, a tall, gaunt figure, its face obscured by a mask that seemed to shift with the flickering of the shadows. The Harbinger’s sword was raised, its edge gleaming in the moonlight, but Sioux’s reflexes were faster. They dove to the side, their feet skimming the ground as they rolled, the blade narrowly missing their side.

The Harbinger’s hiss was sharp, venomous. "You cannot escape your fate, dhampir," the figure sneered, its voice as cold as ice. “Your bloodline is a curse, and it will end with you.”

Sioux’s eyes narrowed. Not today, they thought. Not while they still had breath in their lungs, not while the sigil burned inside them, urging them to fight. Sioux’s heart pounded in their chest, the pulse syncing with the beat of the battle.

With a surge of energy, they came to their feet, blade drawn, and rushed the Harbinger. The clash of steel against steel reverberated through the forest as they met the Harbinger’s sword with their own. Sparks flew from the collision, lighting up the darkness for a fleeting moment. Sioux’s arm shook with the force of the impact, but they pushed forward, forcing their opponent back with a series of rapid strikes.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Sioux gritted through clenched teeth, their blade slashing across the air with deadly intent.

But the Harbinger didn’t answer. Instead, it twisted, its movements unnaturally fluid, and lunged. Sioux ducked, narrowly avoiding the slash that would have cleaved their head from their shoulders. They rolled to the side, only to find another Harbinger at their back.

Caedric’s voice rang out above the chaos, “Sioux!”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Sioux leapt into the air, twisting mid-flight to land beside Caedric. The moment their feet touched the ground, the air around them seemed to thrum with an electric tension.

Caedric grinned, though the expression was tight with strain. "Glad to have you back, partner."

But Sioux didn’t answer. Their gaze was fixed on the surrounding Harbingers, their hands shaking not from fear but from the anticipation of what was to come. The sigil within them pulsed like a living thing, urging them to unleash the power that had been building within. But they resisted—for now.

A Harbinger lunged at Caedric again, but this time, Sioux was ready. With a flash of movement, they intercepted the strike, their blade slicing through the air with a sharp hiss. The Harbinger’s weapon clattered to the ground, and Sioux didn’t waste a second. In one fluid motion, they drove their blade deep into the creature’s chest.

The Harbinger gasped, its glowing eyes wide in shock before the life drained from it, leaving only the corpse behind. Sioux jerked their blade free, the sickening sound of it pulling from the body echoing in the stillness.

But there was no time to celebrate. The battle raged on.

Another Harbinger—this one smaller, quicker—dashed toward them, its movements more like a blur than a human form. Sioux barely had time to react before the creature was upon them, its claws extended, ready to tear through their skin. They ducked just in time, but the Harbinger’s claws scraped across their shoulder, leaving a searing wound in its wake.

Sioux winced but didn’t let the pain slow them down. Their vision blurred, but they pushed through the fog, twisting and turning to meet their attacker with renewed fury.

“You will not end me,” Sioux spat, the words barely leaving their throat before they lashed out, their sword cleaving through the creature’s throat.

The Harbinger crumpled to the ground in a heap, but more were coming. There were always more.

Through the melee, Sioux could hear the familiar hum of power, the sharp prickling sensation that came with the awakening of the sigil. It was drawing on their fear, their anger, the blood pulsing in their veins. And with it, Sioux felt the change, the rush of energy, the urge to destroy.

But before they could give in to that power, a sound cut through the battlefield—a familiar, haunting howl that shook the very trees. The creature, the one that had been lurking in the shadows earlier, had returned.

And this time, it wasn’t just one creature. There were more.

Sioux’s heart raced as they met Caedric’s eyes, both of them understanding the unspoken truth. They were being overwhelmed.

“We need to go,” Caedric said, urgency lacing his words.

Sioux didn’t hesitate. They knew there was no choice. The Harbingers could be beaten, but there were too many, and the dark creatures lurking in the shadows? That was something they couldn’t face—at least, not now.

“Move!” Sioux commanded, and they dashed into the trees, the night echoing with the sounds of battle as they fled into the unknown.