The flickering eyes did not blink.
Kael shifted his stance, his weight sinking into the stone beneath his boots. The rune-sword in his hand hummed faintly, responding to the tension in his grip. Sera's bowstring whispered as she drew it taut, an arrow kissing the string and ready to fly.
The pale lights moved — not with the bobbing rhythm of a creature walking, but gliding, as if whatever owned them was floating just above the ground. The firelight didn't seem to touch it. Even as it drew closer, the figure remained shrouded in a curtain of darkness that swallowed the orange glow whole.
Linawhimpered and shrank back against the overhang's stone wall. "It's not an animal…" she whispered.
Kaeldidn't take his eyes from the approaching presence. "Stay behind me."
Sera's voice was low but steady. "If it gets within thirty paces, I shoot."
It closed the distance faster than he expected. Twenty-five paces. Twenty. Now Kaelcould make out the vague outline — tall, unnaturally thin, and wrapped in ragged strips of cloth that fluttered despite the still air. The eyes were not eyes at all, but orbs of cold light burning inside a hood of shadow.
It stopped. And then it spoke.
"You… carry the flame."
The voice was layered, as if several tones spoke at once — some low, some high, some in a language Kaeldidn't know. It made his skin crawl.
Kael kept his blade raised. "And if I do?"
The thing tilted its head. "Then you must return it. Or all will drown in the dark between stars."
Sera's arrow didn't waver. "You'll have to be a lot clearer than that, shadow."
The figure ignored her. It stepped forward again, gliding until the tip of Kael'ssword was less than a handspan from its chest. The air around it grew colder. Frost began to creep along the edges of the stone.
Kael's breath fogged. "Who sent you?"
The pale lights flared. "The one who waits in the Deep."
Before Kaelcould ask more, the figure's head jerked, as if it had heard something far away. It began to dissolve — not like smoke, but like ash pulled apart by invisible fingers. In seconds, it was gone, leaving only a faint rim of frost on the ground where it had stood.
For a long moment, no one moved.
Serafinally lowered her bow. "What in all nine hells was that?"
Kael sheathed his sword, though the tension in his shoulders didn't ease. "A warning. Or a threat. Or both."
Linashivered. "It… it knew you."
Kaeldidn't respond. He couldn't stop thinking about its words — the same phrase the puppets had said in the Vale. Return the flame.
Sleep came only in short, uneasy stretches that night. Kaeldreamed of endless black water, a starless sky, and something vast moving beneath the surface.
When dawn broke, they moved on quickly. The air felt sharper, the trees taller, their shadows longer.
By midday, they reached the edge of the foothills, where a crumbling watchtower stood against the skyline. Its stone was weathered and split, ivy curling along its sides.
Seraeyed it warily. "We should check for supplies. Or trouble."
Kael nodded. The door at the tower's base hung crooked on rusted hinges. Inside, the air was stale but dry. Dust motes floated in the shafts of light that pierced the gaps in the stone.
They found the remains of a camp on the second floor — a cold fire pit, a torn bedroll, and the faint smell of oil. Sera crouched, running her fingers over the floor.
"Fresh tracks," she murmured. "Whoever was here left… maybe a day ago."
Kael scanned the room. His eyes caught on something carved into the wall — a spiral pattern surrounded by jagged lines. It looked old, but someone had traced over it recently with charcoal.
Lina tugged on his sleeve. "That's the same mark that was on the puppets' cloth."
Sera stood. "Then whoever stayed here is tied to those things."
Kael stepped back, uneasy. "And they're ahead of us."
Before they could search further, a faint clatter echoed from the stairs above. Instinct took over — Kaeldrew his sword, Sera loaded an arrow.
A figure appeared at the top of the steps — not a puppet, but a man, gaunt and pale, his eyes wide and glassy. His clothes were torn, his hands shaking.
"They're coming," he rasped.
Serakept her aim steady. "Who's coming?"
The man's gaze locked on Kael. "The ones with no faces. They smelled the flame."
Then, without warning, he collapsed down the stairs, dead before he hit the floor.
And from somewhere outside the tower, the sound of many footsteps began to rise.