The dawn was thin again, the same grey light dripping through the trees, but this morning it felt different. The mist was softer, less cold, though it still clung to the forest floor like a memory unwilling to leave.
Aeris stirred beside the dark stream, blinking blearily into the quiet dawn. The ember within him was low now, its warmth steady but distant, like a candle set at the far end of a dark room. It was a relief in a way. After the burning brightness of yesterday, after the pain that came with every breath, this quiet warmth felt like a mercy.
Liora was still asleep, curled beside him, her small hand clutching the edge of his robes. Her bell chimed softly with each breath, the sound thin but comforting. Mira sat nearby, stirring a pot of thin porridge over the coals, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion, her shawl pulled tight around her shoulders as she watched the forest.
Evin stood further back, sharpening his blade, the scrape of whetstone against steel a steady, comforting sound. His green eyes flicked to Aeris occasionally, checking, always checking, though he said nothing.
The forest was holding its breath again.
Aeris shifted, careful not to wake Liora, and sat up. His journal was still pressed to his chest, and he let his fingers trace the worn leather, the soft hum of the ember in his chest answering in kind.
He was alive. They all were.
⸻
They moved quietly through the forest that morning, following the sluggish stream deeper into the Forest of Whispering Leaves. The Blight creatures were gone, burned away or driven off, but the memory of their twisted forms lingered in the air, a scent like burned hair and spoiled earth that made Mira's nose wrinkle every time the breeze shifted.
Liora walked close to Aeris, holding his hand, her eyes tired but calm. She did not speak much, but sometimes her storm-grey eyes would flick upward to his face, searching, as if making sure he was still there.
Evin led them, sword at his hip, his gaze sweeping the forest with quiet vigilance. His shoulders were tense, but his steps were steady, each placement deliberate, soft, silent.
Mira brought up the rear, collecting what herbs she could find, whispering prayers as she worked. She touched each plant gently, thanking it as she harvested, her fingers brushing the leaves with reverence.
They did not speak much as they walked, letting the hush of the forest and the quiet drip of the stream fill the spaces between them. The silence was comforting, a shared promise that they were still here, still moving forward, still breathing.
⸻
It was midday when they found the shrine.
It was a small thing, half-buried beneath moss and fallen leaves, tucked against the roots of an ancient oak that rose like a pillar into the grey sky. Carvings covered the stone, worn and cracked, but Aeris could still make out the shapes of birds and flames, wings unfurled, beaks open in silent song.
Liora tugged at Aeris's hand, pulling him toward it, her eyes wide. "It's warm," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Aeris knelt, brushing aside the moss, and felt it too. A soft warmth, like the ember within him, humming through the stone, slow and steady. It was old magic, something deep and gentle, untouched by the Blight's corruption.
Mira knelt beside him, her hands pressing to the carvings. "This is a place of rest," she murmured. "A place where the dead are remembered."
Evin stood back, watching the treeline, but his eyes softened as he glanced toward them. "We'll rest here," he said quietly.
⸻
They set camp near the shrine, building a small fire that crackled softly in the hush of the forest. Mira laid out herbs to dry while Evin cleaned their water skins in the stream. Liora sat beside the shrine, tracing the carvings with her fingers, her bell chiming softly as she hummed a wordless tune.
Aeris sat nearby, his journal in his lap, the ember within him pulsing gently. He opened it, turning to the next blank page, letting his pen hover as he tried to find the words.
We found a place of warmth today, a place where the forest remembers what it was before the Blight.
Liora says she can hear them—the voices of those who once came here, who left pieces of themselves in the stone, in the roots of the old oak. She says they are not sad, only quiet, like a breath before dawn.
I can feel it too. The ember within me recognizes this place. It does not burn here. It rests.
I think I needed that.
He closed the journal, pressing it to his chest, and let out a slow breath. For a moment, the pain in his ribs, the ache in his limbs, the ever-present weight of the ember inside him faded, leaving only the warmth of the shrine's memory.
⸻
They buried the burned remains of the Blight creatures that evening, far from the shrine, beneath the roots of a dying birch tree. Mira said the forest would reclaim what it could, that the ash would feed the soil, that even corruption could become something else in time.
Liora stood beside Aeris, holding his hand as they worked, her eyes solemn. "They're quiet now," she whispered.
Aeris nodded. "That's good."
"They're not gone," she said, glancing up at him, her grey eyes shimmering in the twilight. "They're just sleeping."
Aeris squeezed her hand gently. "That's enough."
⸻
That night, they sat around the fire, the light flickering against the shrine's worn carvings, making the birds and flames seem to dance.
Evin told stories, his deep voice low and steady, stories of the old days before the Blight, of festivals and lanterns, of the way the wind smelled in the fields at dawn.
Mira hummed softly, braiding herbs into small bundles for the coming days, occasionally adding small notes to correct Evin's stories, her voice light despite the shadows under her eyes.
Liora fell asleep leaning against Aeris, her bell silent, her breathing slow and even.
Aeris stared into the flames, feeling the ember within him answering the fire's glow. It was quiet here, and he was grateful for it.
⸻
When dawn came again, it was softer, pale gold breaking through the grey, the mist lifting slowly as the world warmed.
They left the shrine with the rising sun, leaving behind offerings of herbs and small stones, Liora pressing a tiny braid of lavender and willow against the carvings before they went.
Aeris felt the ember within him hum, warm and gentle, as if the shrine's memory would remain with him, a small light in the long darkness ahead.
They moved onward, deeper into the forest, the path uncertain, but their steps sure.
—————-
They followed the stream until it narrowed into a silver ribbon, weaving between moss-choked rocks, disappearing and reappearing in the roots of gnarled trees. The forest felt thicker here, the trunks packed close, the canopy letting through only strands of light that flickered like distant lanterns.
Aeris's steps grew heavier the further they walked. The ember within him, quiet by the shrine, was restless again, pulsing in odd rhythms, cold, then hot, then cold again. Each pulse made his breath catch for a moment before he pushed it down, focused on the path, on Liora's small hand in his, on the sound of Evin's measured footsteps ahead.
They stopped at midday beneath a cluster of black pines, their needles whispering in the breeze. Mira checked Liora's hands for cold, pressing her warm palms against the girl's small fingers, her soft humming almost lost in the sigh of the wind.
Aeris sank onto a fallen log, pressing a hand to his ribs as the ember flared again, sharp and bright before settling into a low throb. He closed his eyes, focusing on the warmth without letting it consume him, letting it flow through him, not against him.
Evin glanced back, green eyes narrowing. "How is it?"
"Manageable," Aeris replied, his voice low.
Evin said nothing more, but he shifted closer, his presence a silent promise.
⸻
They moved on, deeper into the forest, until the light began to fade, though the sun was still high above the canopy. A fog rolled in, thick and pale, wrapping around the trunks of the trees, muffling the crunch of pine needles underfoot.
Liora squeezed Aeris's hand, her storm-grey eyes wide as she glanced around. "They're watching," she whispered.
"I know," Aeris murmured, feeling the ember stir, heat coiling in his chest as shadows moved in the fog, shapes flickering at the edge of his vision, there and gone.
Evin drew his sword, the blade whispering against the scabbard, its cold gleam a small comfort in the grey light.
Mira's lips moved, her hands weaving protective sigils in the air, the soft glow of her magic flickering around them like small auroras.
The fog thickened, swallowing the world, until only the sound of their breathing remained.
⸻
They found a hollow beneath an ancient willow where the fog was thinner, the branches like long fingers draped around them, creating a shelter from the oppressive grey. Evin set a small perimeter with salt and sigils, while Mira lit a small, smokeless flame, her hands trembling as she whispered her prayers.
Aeris sat with Liora curled against his side, the ember in his chest a warm, steady glow despite the cold pressing in from the fog.
"I had a dream," Liora whispered, her eyes staring into the small flame.
"What did you see?" Aeris asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"The Tree," she whispered. "The one in the deep. It's calling you, Aeris."
The ember pulsed, heat sparking through his ribs, through his lungs, making him cough. Mira was there instantly, pressing a damp cloth to his lips, checking for blood, her eyes worried.
"It's alright," Aeris rasped, waving her off, but she did not move, her dark eyes locked on his, unwavering.
"It's getting worse," Mira said quietly, her hand hovering over his chest, feeling the warmth of the ember.
"I know."
"You need to rest."
"We don't have time."
She frowned, pressing the cloth into his hand before stepping back. "Then let me help."
She began mixing herbs, her hands sure despite her exhaustion, grinding leaves and resin into a thick paste that smelled of rosemary and iron. She handed it to him with a firm look, and Aeris swallowed it without protest, the taste bitter, grounding.
Liora leaned closer, her small hand pressing against his chest, right over the ember. "It doesn't have to hurt," she whispered.
The ember pulsed, warm and soft, answering her touch. For a moment, Aeris felt the pain ease, the heat settling into a comforting warmth.
"Thank you," he whispered.
⸻
Night fell quietly, the fog thinning but not lifting, shadows flickering at the edge of the camp's small circle of light. Evin kept watch, his silhouette still against the willow's hanging branches, his eyes never leaving the shifting dark.
Aeris tried to rest, Liora's small body curled against his side, Mira asleep across from them, her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
But the whispers began.
Soft at first, like wind through the leaves, then clearer, voices he did not know, calling his name from the mist.
Come.
We remember.
We wait.
The ember flared, hot and cold, pulling at him, drawing him toward the darkness beyond the willow's branches. Aeris's breath caught, his eyes opening to the fog where shapes moved, pale forms with eyes like dying embers, reaching.
He rose, careful not to wake Liora, and stepped past the salt line, the fog curling around him like cold water. The whispers grew louder, filling his mind, pressing against the ember, against his will.
Aeris.
Light-bearer.
We hunger.
⸻
Something moved in the fog—a shadow, taller than a man, thin and broken, its limbs too long, its fingers ending in claws of blackened bone. Its eyes were pits of green fire, the Blight pulsing through its veins like poison.
A Blight Shade.
Aeris lifted his hand, summoning flame, the ember burning bright, too bright, heat rushing through him, consuming him. Fire burst from his palm, illuminating the fog, casting wild shadows across the twisted form.
The Shade screamed, a sound like shattering glass, and lunged.
The ember flared, and Aeris felt himself slipping, the fire burning out of control, his breath catching in ragged gasps as the flame roared, threatening to consume everything.
Control it, he told himself, but the ember burned, wild and hungry, and the whispers pressed closer.
⸻
"Aeris!"
Liora's voice cut through the fog, clear and bright, like a bell ringing in the dark.
He turned, seeing her small form at the edge of the camp, her eyes wide, tears on her cheeks, her bell chiming softly as she reached toward him.
"Come back!"
The Shade lunged, its claws inches from Aeris's chest.
Liora's hand touched his, and the ember within him pulsed, warm and steady, the wild fire settling, becoming light instead of flame.
Aeris exhaled, and the fire in his palm shifted, becoming a soft glow that wrapped around the Shade, burning away the Blight without burning the creature itself.
The Shade screamed, but it was different now—a sound of release, of relief, as the Blight burned away, leaving behind a pale wisp of light that floated upward, fading into the mist.
The fog lifted, thinning, the whispers falling silent, leaving only the sound of Aeris's ragged breathing and Liora's quiet sobs.
⸻
Aeris sank to his knees, the ember within him pulsing softly, no longer burning, but warm, comforting.
Liora fell into his arms, clutching him tightly, her bell chiming softly with each sob.
"I'm here," Aeris whispered, holding her close, letting the ember's warmth wrap around them both.
Mira and Evin reached them moments later, Mira's hands checking Aeris for wounds, Evin's hand resting on his shoulder, steady, silent.
The forest was quiet again, the fog lifting, the moonlight breaking through the trees in soft silver beams.
They were still here.
And for now, that was enough.
—————
The fire burned low, coals pulsing softly beneath the ashes, their glow like the slow, quiet breathing of something alive. The fog had lifted during the night, replaced by cold, clear air that hummed with the sharp scent of pine and earth, washed clean by frost.
Aeris sat near the fire, knees drawn to his chest, cloak wrapped tightly around his thin frame. He watched the embers rise, tiny motes of orange drifting upward, blinking out one by one against the dark sky as dawn approached.
His hands trembled when he exhaled, a small wisp of vapor curling in the cold. The ember inside him felt quiet now, like a small, warm bird resting against his ribs, but every so often it would flicker, a reminder of how close he had come to losing it to the Blight in the fog.
Across the camp, Evin checked the perimeter in slow, careful strides, his green eyes sharp even in the thin light. His sword was strapped across his back, every movement deliberate, a silent promise that he would not let the dark claim them while they slept.
Mira sat a few paces away, her mortar and pestle in hand as she ground dried herbs into powder, the steady scrape of stone a comforting rhythm in the hush. She glanced at Aeris now and then, her dark eyes soft with worry, but she said nothing, letting the quiet speak for them both.
Liora was curled beside Aeris, the red cloak draped over her like a small tent, her bell resting on her chest as she slept. Her breathing was slow and steady, each exhale a soft note in the morning's cold song.
Aeris let his hand rest lightly on her head, brushing back a strand of silver hair. She had saved him the night before, pulling him back from the edge when the ember had almost slipped away into the Blight's cold hunger.
He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to his knees, the memory of that moment flashing behind his eyelids: the way the Blight Shade had pressed its cold against his flame, the way Liora's voice had cut through the dark, calling him back, reminding him of who he was.
"I'm still here."
The words echoed in him, steady and warm.
The ember pulsed in quiet agreement.
⸻
The first light of dawn touched the treetops, washing the black pines in pale gold, and the last stars flickered out in the dawn wind.
Liora stirred, the bell chiming softly as she sat up, blinking sleep from her storm-grey eyes. She looked up at Aeris, a small, tired smile curving her lips.
"Morning," she whispered.
Aeris managed a soft smile in return. "Morning, little light."
She leaned against him, resting her head on his arm. "Are you okay now?"
He hesitated, then nodded. "Better. Thanks to you."
Her small fingers tightened around his sleeve. "You can't leave yet," she whispered. "Not until we're done."
"I know," he said softly. "I won't."
Across the clearing, Mira sprinkled the powdered herbs into a steaming pot of water, letting the bitter scent rise into the cold morning air.
"This will help strengthen you," she said, glancing at Aeris. "Drink before we go."
Aeris took the cup when she offered it, the warmth seeping into his fingers, grounding him as he sipped. The bitterness made his stomach clench, but it steadied the ember, letting it glow with quiet certainty beneath his ribs.
⸻
Evin joined them, crouching near the fire, eyes sweeping the trees.
"The path ahead will only get harder," he said, his voice low. "The Blight will know we're coming now."
Aeris looked into the flames, the reflection of the ember dancing in his tired eyes. "Let it come. We're ready."
Liora's small hand slipped into his, squeezing tightly. "We are."
Mira smiled faintly, tucking her black hair behind her ear. "We'll protect each other. That's all we can promise."
Evin's gaze softened, just for a moment. "Then we move at dawn."
⸻
They broke camp quietly, the cold air sharp as they packed their few belongings, Mira carefully folding herbs into pouches, Evin checking his blade, Liora humming softly as she tied her bell around her waist once more.
Aeris paused before they left, kneeling by the last ashes of the fire. He took a small river stone from his pocket, pressing it into the warm coals until it began to glow softly, the ember's light threading into its core.
He placed it on the earth, letting it rest among the ashes, a tiny promise burning quietly in the cold dawn.
"So we remember we were here," he whispered.
Then he rose, shouldering his pack, the ember within him pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
They stepped into the forest as the first rays of sunlight pierced the mist, casting long shadows across the path ahead, the whisper of the trees carrying their promise forward into the waiting dark.
They would go deeper.
They would face the Blight.
And they would protect the light, whatever the cost.