The sun was sinking behind the jagged peaks of Grimkaroth, staining the sky in hues of red and deepening shadows across the landscape. The light stretched long over the hills, casting their figures in stark silhouettes as Raelyn and her companions descended the sloping terrain.

The wind carried a bitter chill—a lingering whisper of the corruption that seeped into the land ahead. The trees, once vibrant, bore blackened veins through their bark, their leaves tinged with sickly yellow. The grass thinned, patches of earth cracking as if suffocated by something underneath. The closer they drew to Bromaric, the more the world around them felt as if it were decaying.

Ahead, Bromaric loomed.

The border was unmarked, yet unmistakable. The land beyond the ridge was swallowed in shadow, where the sky above hung heavy with storm-gray clouds, refusing to allow the last rays of daylight to reach the broken terrain beyond.

Raelyn shivered, though not from the cold.

Raelyn walked in silent contemplation, her boots crunching softly against the dirt path. She glanced over her shoulder, looking back at Duskwatch in the distance. From here, she could still see the warm glow of lanters, dotting the small village like fallen stars. The faint hum of life still reached them—the occasional bark of a dog, the distant murmer of voices. It was comfort, the last bit of safety they had known.

A lump formed in her throat.

It would be so easy to turn back. To stay where it was safe.

But safety was an illusion. Even Duskwatch wouldn't be untouched forever.

Her thoughts drifted to their final day in the village. She and Benji had recounted their journey to Sylvy and Lira, filling in every detail—from the dwarves in Grimkaroth to the gremlins of Icevein Crest, from demons to victories hard won. Hovan and Thomrik had cut in at times, adding their own commentary, filling in the gaps, almost enjoying the retelling of their adventures.

There had been laughter, moments where their struggles almost seemed like stories rather than lived realities. But when the true weight of it settled—the revalation of Corix's death, the frozen storm that was nearly the end of Rakz, Folainn's betrayal and the ever-looming shadow of Baragor—the joy was tempered with solemn understanding.

The elves had listened intently, taking in every detail.

Danio, however, had been uncharacteristically quiet.

Benji had assumed it was his wounded pride from the elves' rejection, but Raelyn sensed something deeper—something stirring beneath his usual smirk and sarcasm. She didn't know what, but she knew Danio well enough to recognize when something was wrong.

Now, as they walked, Danio trailed a few steps behind the group. His shoulders hunched, his head low, a shadow of the man who had once boasted and swaggered his way through every town and tavern.

Raelyn glanced forward again, her gaze fixing on the path ahead.

The flickering lights of Duskwatch were behind them—warmth, safety, familiarity.

But before them lay uncertainty, danger, and the heart of Baragor's corruption.

The last vestige of daylight slipped beneath the horizon. the last hints of sunlight had faded, leaving only the deep purple and blues of twilight stretching over the hills.

Hovan stood still, feet planted firmly at the edge of the desolation. He stood tall at the crest of the ridge, his silhouette outlined by the fading light. The others followed suit, coming to a halt behind him.

Hovan exhaled slowly, his voice steady and low as he addressed them.

"This is it."

Rakz coiled around Raelyn's boots, his golden eyes flicking warily at the darkness beyond.

Hovan scanned their faces before continuing.

"We stick to the plan. Move slow. Stay unseen. This isn't a race—it's survival."

He let the words settle between them.

"We take our time. We watch the land. We listen." His voice was quiet but there was no mistaking the gravity beneath it. "This is Baragor's domain. If we aren't careful, it will swallow us whole."

Raelyn swallowed. The air felt heavier now, pressing against her ribs.

Hovan's gaze swept over them once more. "Is everyone ready?"

A hush settled over them.

Benji was the first to answer. He let out a slow exhale, rolling his shoulders before giving a firm nod. "Let's do this." His voice lacked its usual lightness, steadier now—not cocky, but resolute. His fingers flexed at his sides, his stance shifting just slightly as though bracing himself.

Thomrik crossed his arms over his broad chest, his boots planted firmly against the ground. "Aye." The word was gruff, solid as stone. There was no hesitation, no trace of doubt. Only the quiet certainty of a man who had already made his choice.

Sylvy's smirk curved at the edges of her lips, but it wasn't just her usual playful bravado. Her hand tightened around the hilt of one of her curved blades, fingers tapping idly against the leather grip. Her green eyes flicked toward the looming darkness ahead, gleaming with something close to excitement. "Been ready." She rolled her shoulders. "Let's see what hell we're walking into."

Lira inhaled softly, lifting her chin. Unlike her sister, there was no smirk, no outward display of eagerness. Instead, her expression was calm, measured, her fingers lightly tracing the silver circlet on her brow. She closed her eyes briefly, exhaling in quiet acceptance before she nodded.

Rakz lifted his small, scaled head, tilting it slightly as he observed the group. His golden eyes flicked toward Raelyn, and with a small trill, he pressed his nose against her ankle briefly—not fear, but recognition. He could feel the shift in the air, the unspoken understanding that once they stepped forward, there would be no turning back.

Only Danio remained silent.

The air had turned thick with silence, the weight of their task pressing down on them like the very darkness creeping over the landscape.

Hovan gave a small nod, his expression set in determination. "Let's go."

But just as he turned to walk, two voices cut through the quiet at the same time.

"Wait."

Raelyn turned her head at the same time as Danio. Their eyes met, both surprised that the other had spoken.

Danio hesitated. His mouth opened slightly, but no words followed.

"Sorry," Raelyn murmured, shaking her head slightly. "I just... I have something I want to say first."

Danio gave the smallest nod, stepping back. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight from foot to foot, restless.

She stepped forward, positioning herself in front of the group, her fingers tightening slightly at her sides. The cool air brushed against her skin, carrying with it the weight of the moment.

She looked at each of them—Hovan, Benji, Thomrik, Sylvy, Lira. Warriors, elves, dwarves. Friends. Family.

A year ago, she never would have believed she would be here, standing at the edge of the darkest land in Unevia, with people she trusted with her life.

She took a steadying breath.

"A year ago, I never would have believed that I'd be standing here." She swallowed, shaking her head slightly, her voice quiet at first. "Not just standing here, at the edge of Bromaric, about to step into the unknown—but standing here with all of you."

She turned her gaze toward them, something warm filling her chest despite the cold air.

"I never imagined I would find myself surrounded by warriors, elves, dwarves, and call them my closest, dearest friends."

Her voice caught slightly on the word friends. She meant it. Every single one of them meant something to her.

"When I left Ardesco, I had no idea how far this journey would take me. I had no idea what it would cost me. But I also never could have dreamed how much I would gain from it."

Her eyes flickered toward Benji, who gave her a soft smile.

"I have found friendships that I will cherish for the rest of my life. I have discovered magic—powerful, beautiful magic—magic that has awakened something inside me that I never knew existed. I have found faith in the gods, in their plan, in their purpose for us."

She placed a hand over the locket that rested against her chest.

"And I have seen more of Unevia than any other human before me."

She let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "That alone is something I will never take for granted."

She glanced behind her, past the creeping tendrils of darkness that lay beyond the border of Bromaric.

"But this journey has not only brought us together—it has led us here. To this moment."

She turned back to them, meeting their eyes.

"We are about to step into darkness itself, hoping—praying—that we will find what we need to stop the plague that has spread across Unevia. And I won't lie—I am afraid." The confession was quiet, but she did not shrink from it. Fear was not weakness. It was the proof that what they were doing mattered.

"But if we don't take this risk—if we turn back now—then Unevia falls." She let that sink in. "We are the only ones who can do this. If we do not fight, then no one will. If we do not stop Baragor, no one else will."

Her fingers curled into fists.

"This journey has not been without peril. But we have survived—together."

She met Hovan's gaze. "We have fought demons at Flatrest."

Her eyes flicked to Thomrik. "We stood against Infernal hounds at Grimkaroth."

She turned to Benji. "We faced a troll in the tunnels, endured Icevein Crest, braved storms, and walked through fire."

Her gaze swept over all of them.

"And we are still here."

Her hands curled into fists at her sides.

"We will continue to be here. Because we have each other. We will survive, because we are together."

Then, softer—more personal, more raw:

"Thank you. For everything you have done. And everything you will do."

She exhaled slowly, letting the weight of her words settle between them. It wasn't just an empty sentiment. It wasn't just something to be said before they stepped into the darkness of Bromaric. It was everything. They had stood beside her through fire and ice, through battles and hardships, through moments where it would have been easier to turn away. And yet, here they stood, willing to face the unknown with her, to risk their lives not because they had to, but because they had chosen to. That kind of loyalty, that kind of devotion, was something she had never expected to find in this lifetime, something she would never take for granted.

Her hands curled slightly at her sides. That's when the fear crept in.

She had pushed it away for so long, but now, standing on the precipice of something far greater than herself, she could no longer ignore it. She was terrified. Not just of the journey ahead, not just of Baragor and his demons, but of what she might lose along the way. How many more battles could they endure? How many more close calls before one of them didn't make it back? She had already lost so much—Keardath, Corix, the life she once knew. The thought of losing even one of them was unbearable. And yet, the cruelest truth of all was that she could not ask them to turn back.

"I wouldn't have asked this of you if I didn't believe in you."

Her voice was firm now, steady despite the whirlwind of emotion tightening in her throat.

She looked at them—her family in all but blood.

She feared for them. She feared losing them. But more than that—she feared what would happen if they failed.

"I wouldn't have asked this if I didn't believe in us."

Her gaze hardened, resolve settling into her bones.

"This has to be done."

They all knew it. They all understood the weight of their task.

"And we are the ones to do it."

Her fingers brushed over the locket at her chest, the cool metal grounding her, reminding her why they were here.

She met each of their eyes, her voice a whisper, but strong enough to shake the earth.

Raelyn's words lingered in the air, settling over them like a quiet, unseen force. The weight of their journey, their purpose, had been spoken aloud, and for a moment, the world itself seemed to still. A breath of wind swept through the group, rustling Sylvy's braids, tugging at the edges of Raelyn's cloak. The border of Bromaric loomed ahead, dark and foreboding, but they stood together, unshaken.

Then—

"Damn right we will." Benji broke the silence with a grin, thrusting his fist into the air, his usual warmth shining through despite the severity of their mission.

"Been a long time since I had a fight worth swinging steel for." Thomrik exhaled, his fingers itching over the handle of his axe. "Hope whatever's waiting for us knows how to put up a decent one."

Sylvy scoffed, adjusting the straps of her scabbards. "Better hope you can land a hit before I cut them down first. Wouldn't want you feeling useless."

Thomrik let out a low chuckle, tapping the flat of his axe against his palm. "Oh aye? We'll see who's counting bodies at the end of this. Bet you an ale I outdo you."

Sylvy smirked, tossing her braid over her shoulder. "Make it a bottle of elven wine, and you've got yourself a wager, dwarf."

Lira exhaled, her emerald eyes soft but certain. "We follow you, Raelyn. And we believe in you."

Even Rakz let out a small chirp, his tail curling around Raelyn's boot in quiet reassurance.

Hovan approached Raelyn, his usual sharp expression softened ever so slightly. He gave her a small nod of approval. "That was well said," he murmured, his voice quieter now that the others had begun shifting into position. Then, leaning in slightly, he added in a tone only she could hear, "You've grown into quite the leader, Raelyn."

Heat rushed to her cheeks at the unexpected praise. She opened her mouth to respond, but Hovan had already straightened, his lips curling into a rare, knowing smirk. With a wink, he turned away before she could gather herself.

He walked past her, addressing the group, his voice regaining its usual firm edge. "We're leaving. Stay close, stay quiet."

With that, he was the first to cross into Bromaric, his silhouette shifting against the dying light as he disappeared past the threshold of corruption.

One by one, the others followed, their boots crunching against the brittle, lifeless ground, their forms swallowed by the darkness ahead.

Raelyn took off, but something felt wrong. The others were moving ahead, but there was an absence—a stillness that pressed against her awareness like a whisper of warning. 

She stopped, turning back to see Danio hadn't moved.

"Danio?"

The others halted at the sound of her voice, their gazes shifting toward where he stood—a few steps behind them, unmoving.

Raelyn's stomach twisted.

Danio's shoulders were stiff, his weight shifted back as if his body already knew something his lips hadn't spoken yet. His head was low, dark wavy hair falling over his face, but she could see the tension in the set of his jaw, the way his hands twitched at his sides—curling into fists, then loosening, then curling again. A nervous tic.

Raelyn took a slow step toward him, concern creeping into her voice. "Danio? What's wrong?"

The words seemed to stir something in him, his fingers tightening briefly against the fabric of his cloak before he finally lifted his head.

And then she saw it.

Fear. Guilt. Conflict.

His lips parted slightly, and for a fleeting moment, it looked like he was about to say something—something clever, something sarcastic, something to deflect.

But then his shoulders slumped.

His gaze drifted across them all, as if committing them to memory.

Raelyn's breath caught in her throat.

And then, softly—almost too soft, as if he barely had the strength to say it—

"I can't do this."