The moment they stepped out of the underground chamber, the cold hit them like a wall.
Greyfall was still dark, the morning sky heavy with clouds. Aric felt the weight of the sword on his back, the heat from the blade still whispering through his bones. It had become a part of him now. Every step, every breath—it felt like the fire was there, just beneath his skin.
Maelis led the way as they walked through the city, heading towards the outer gates. The air was thick with dust and decay. The streets were quieter now, with most of the townsfolk huddling inside their homes. Even the market, once bustling with life, was nearly empty. Only a few people wandered, heads down, trying to ignore the world falling apart around them.
"This is it," Maelis said, pausing at the city gates.
Aric followed his gaze. The wilderness stretched out before them—a dark, untamed expanse of forests and hills. The road ahead would take them into the heart of the wilds, where few dared to venture. But that was where they had to go.
"The Veil will be looking for us soon," Maelis warned, adjusting the straps of his pack. "We need to move fast, before they close in."
Aric nodded, feeling the familiar tension build in his chest. The fire still throbbed inside him, but it wasn't as loud as before. It simmered now, lurking in the background, waiting for the right moment to surge. He wasn't sure if he feared it or needed it.
"Are you ready?" Maelis asked, glancing at him.
Aric took a deep breath. He wasn't sure he was ever ready. But he didn't have a choice. He had to keep moving, keep searching for answers.
"Let's go," Aric said, tightening his grip on the hilt of the Emberblade. "Before it finds us first."
They crossed the gates, and the world seemed to close behind them. The city faded, swallowed by the trees and the dark stretch of wilderness ahead. The path was rough, and the wind carried the scent of pine and earth, sharp and cold.
It wasn't long before the first signs of trouble appeared.
A rustle in the trees. A shadow darting between the trunks.
"Get ready," Maelis said under his breath.
Aric's hand went instinctively to the sword, his fingers brushing the hilt. The flame inside him flickered, low but steady.
Then, from the shadows, they came.
Not the Veil. Not yet.
Bandits. Hungry. Desperate.
Five of them, emerging from the trees with weapons drawn—blades, axes, and crude bows.
"Give us your coin," one of them snarled, a jagged scar running across his face. "And we might let you walk away."
Aric didn't move. He didn't even blink.
Maelis didn't hesitate. His sword was out in a flash, a blur of steel in the air, striking the nearest bandit down before the others had a chance to react. The others hesitated, eyes darting between Maelis and Aric.
"Now," Maelis said, his voice cold, calm.
Aric's heart raced. His grip tightened on the Emberblade. He felt the fire inside him flare, hot and bright.
The bandits lunged. But Aric didn't wait. The fire surged forward, wrapping around him like a cloak. His hand raised, and the flames followed, a whip of heat and light that lashed out, knocking two of them back.
They stumbled, stunned by the force.
One of the bandits raised a bow. Maelis saw it coming and leapt in front of Aric, deflecting the arrow with his blade.
"Enough!" Maelis shouted.
The bandits hesitated, eyes wide, realizing they were outmatched. Slowly, they backed away, dragging their wounded comrades with them.
"We don't want your blood," the scarred one spat, glaring at Aric. "But don't think you can walk through these woods untouched."
Without another word, they vanished back into the trees.
Aric lowered his hand, the flames flickering and dying down. His heart was still pounding, but the fire inside him was quieter now, almost satisfied.
"You're getting better at controlling it," Maelis said, sheathing his sword.
"Am I?" Aric asked, his voice rough.
Maelis nodded. "It's a start."
Aric's gaze wandered to the woods ahead. The bandits were gone, but the danger wasn't over. It was only just beginning.
They had no choice but to keep moving.