The darkness outside the grotto lay like solid ink, pressing heavily on every soul that dared to peer into it. That night dragged on as though it would never end, Raine, Thalia, and Karrion keeping their eyes open in silent terror and taut vigilance, waiting for even the faintest dawn light to pierce the suffocating gloom.
The vast, cold malice of last night—like the abyss itself staring—gave no further sign of movement, yet its shadow remained, embedding itself in the three of them like bone‑deep worms. It was no longer mere pursuit or hunting: it was a higher‑order, indifferent scrutiny, as if they were inconsequential chess pieces whose very presence had rattled some ancient, horrific entity's nerves.
At last, dawn arrived in miserly shafts of gray light, struggling to pierce the corrupted canopy and cast dim patches on the black‑mossed floor. The air remained heavy with rotten sweetness and the metallic tang of soil, but at least the absolute blackness of night was gone.
"We need to move," Karrion broke the silence first. His voice was rough from a sleepless night, but his eyes remained sharp. "Whatever that thing was, staying here is no good." He spoke as he swiftly dismantled their makeshift camp, thoroughly burying the smoldering embers.
Raine nodded, still pale, dark circles under his eyes. Last night's ordeal had drained both his body and spirit. He could feel the little starlight magic left within him cowering like a frightened beast, terrified of its surroundings.
Thalia was even more silent, her cowl drawn lower to obscure nearly her entire face. Only the too‑pale line of her jaw slipping from the shadows betrayed her inner unrest. She, too, seemed to sense something, but only shook her head without speaking.
They quickly left the grotto and resumed their perilous journey. This time, they moved with utmost caution: Karrion tracked closely along the ground, avoiding any trace that might give them away, while Thalia wove faint shadow‑energy to blur their scent and outlines.
The great malice had retreated with the night, but the terror it left behind clung like a film, making each step heavier. Raine forced himself alert, though weakness and weariness blurred his focus, and he fell back on instinct to stay close to Karrion and Thalia.
They passed into a relatively sparser grove. The trees here, though still twisted, were less grotesque than the sap‑weeping, claw‑branched terrors before. The ground was thickly carpeted in dark red leaves that rustled underfoot. Weak sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting mottled patterns on the moss.
Everything seemed… unnervingly calm.
Such tranquillity in the Blightwood typically heralded a far deeper peril—or a cunning disguise.
Karrion, evidently aware of this, slowed his steps to a crawl, knuckles whitening around his axe haft as he scanned the underbrush. He sniffed the air, seeking any odd scent or whisper of movement.
Thalia, too, halted, body leaning forward like a black panther ready to spring. Her empty hand was half‑clenched, shadow‑energy coiling at her fingertips.
"This isn't right," Karrion murmured, voice barely above a breath. "Too quiet… Not even the blasted midges."
Raine felt it too: the atmosphere had thickened into a near‑tangible haze. No wind, no insect chirps, not even distant calls of forest monstrosities. The silence pressed like a solid wall, trapping them in this deceptively harmless clearing.
Suddenly, Raine stiffened violently!
A jolt of terror—more immediate, more ferocious, more urgent than before—seized his heart like a red‑hot iron spike through his skull!
"Ugh!" Raine groaned, clutching his head, body trembling as though electrocuted. His vision flooded with chaotic, bloody, fragmented images!
Scene One: The Death Trap
This was no clear prophecy but a sensory onslaught.
He saw—earth splitting open as countless barbed bone spines burst forth, impaling any who dared cross the grove as though roasting meat on a spit!
He saw—once‑calm trees spring to life, trunks cracking open into maws lined with jagged teeth, branches twisting into spiny tendrils that whipped, tore, and devoured intruders!
He saw—aerosols of colorless, odorless spores filling the air; inhalation meant agonized convulsions, flesh dissolving into pus until even bones were eaten away!
He saw—endless pairs of crimson eyes glinting from the shadows, corruption‑twisted beasts flooding out to shred prey with claws and fangs!
He even saw—invisible magic traps tightening like nets around him, crushing him into pulp or wrenching his soul free as it wailed in fragments!
His mind reeled with every possible manner of death, each more vivid and grotesque than the last—each pointing to the same end: annihilation!
This was no mere snare but a meticulously crafted, multi‑layered execution ground—perhaps laid by a powerful hunter, or maybe the grove itself was an ancient, cursed death domain, devouring any who entered its maw!
Danger—absolute, overwhelming danger!
These warnings branded Raine's spirit like a red‑hot brand. They had already stepped into the trap's margin, and one more move—perhaps the very next second—would herald their doom!
"Karrion! Thalia!"
A voice echoed in his mind, as though torn from the roar of the woods.
Scene Two: Forced Foresight
He could not abandon hope—he must not!
Raine gritted his teeth through the agony. He knew this was no time to panic. His foresight, the damned curse of his blood, was now their only lifeline!
He staggered back and screamed, "Give me time!" yanking free of Karrion's grip. His legs faltered, nearly sending him to his knees, but he forced himself upright, eyes squeezed shut. He poured every ounce of will and the last sparks of starlight magic into a single desperate drive.
Boom!
Starlight surged within him like a raged torrent, each pulse a blade of pain tearing through bone, sinew, and spirit!
His vision burst into blinding white as even sharper, more brutal death‑scenes flashed in his mind at lightning speed.
He saw Karrion cleaving a path, only to be dragged into an abyss by colossal bone claws erupting from the ground—ending with a cry of despair.
He saw Thalia summoning a shadow cloak for their retreat, only to be consumed by some hidden force, her body left a hollow shell, face frozen in horror.
He saw himself in countless agonizing ends—strangled by writhing vines, torn asunder in an energy eruption, crushed to gory remnants by unseen hands…
Agony—unrelenting agony!
Each vision felt real as death, the dread of destruction nearly overwhelming his will. His body shook violently, blood flecking his lips, veins darkening beneath his skin from the overtaxed magic.
The backlash of starlight magic was like bone‑rot, ravenously consuming every ounce of his life force. He felt consciousness slipping, his form dissolving into the maelstrom, or perhaps to be devoured by some darker presence lurking within the tumultuous energy.
"KARRION!"
He heard Karrion's distant roar—like a promise to stand guard. The dwarf planted his heft against the oncoming pressure, axe raised, back to Thalia, forming a bastion. Around them, the air thickened, the trap‑zone tightening like a noose.
Thalia said nothing, but her shadows flared to a pitch of desperation—black mists swirling at her command, a frail bulwark against the all‑encompassing threat. Her face beneath the cowl was deathly pale, fingers trembling around her staff. She sensed Raine's magic spiraling out of control and the encroaching calamity poised to crush them.
"Raine… hold on…" she prayed silently. Her whisper barely touched the roaring winds of fate. Time was slipping away.
Just as Raine's mind teetered on collapse, nearly consumed by black despair, through the vortices of blood‑soaked nightmare he glimpsed—an almost imperceptible ray of hope!
Not a clear path, but a… flaw! A split second fissure in time and space! A slender chance, more improbable—even more madness‑defying—than death itself!
Scene Three: The Final Escape
"That's it!"
Raine's eyes snapped open, blazing with resolution. He shouted, voice cracked and ragged, "To the right—there! The three‑pronged stump… the root gap… jump—NOW!"
A sick, three‑forked stump… a crevice under its roots…? They would plunge into black void—a death‑leap! Yet in that instant, Karrion and Thalia saw the resolve in his gaze and followed without question.
"Go!" Karrion roared, seizing Raine's nearly limp arm with one hand and shoving Thalia forward with the other, dashing toward that dead stump.
Thalia followed, shadow‑energy billowing behind her like a cloak, stirring leaves to obscure any pursuing eyes.
Their speed was lightning‑fast, answering Raine's words as soon as they fell.
Scene Four: Triggered Trap
RUMBLE—!
An earth‑shaking roar rang out behind them. The grove where they'd stood dissolved into hell itself: the ground collapsed, and countless phosphorescent bone spikes burst forth, impaling every inch they had occupied! Trees groaned and cracked into gaping mouths, tentacle‑vines lashed and coiled, sealing the area in a cage of violence and rot.
Had they hesitated a single heartbeat, they'd have been skewered or devoured.
But at that same moment, the dead stump as Raine had described twisted and writhed, exuding denser corruption—but a narrow slot remained beneath its gnarled roots, just wide enough for one person to slip through into the unknown darkness below.
"Jump!" Karrion bellowed, yanking Raine forward with one hand, then launched himself into the chasm.
Thalia, glancing once at the infernal breach behind and the swirling vortex clouds overhead, dove in without hesitation.
At that instant, the stump resealed as if it had never opened. Behind them, the corruption‑triggered earth roared and tore itself apart, consuming the trap zone in a fury of energy and writhing vines.
They had done it—by following Raine's mad desperation, they had snatched life from the jaws of certain death.
Scene Five: Starlight's Exhaustion
Their fall lasted only a few seconds. They crashed onto something soft yet springy—some vast fungal mat.
Darkness enveloped them, and only a few faint slivers of light filtered down from the narrow gap above, sketching the cavern's vague outline. The air stank of damp mold and ancient dust.
"Ghh… damned place… what is this fungus…" Karrion was first upright, coughing, cursing as he patted his aching backside.
Thalia found her footing next, cautiously surveying their new shelter. "It seems a natural underground hollow, overrun by some massive fungus. The taint here… is very faint."
Relative safety!
Her words brought a flicker of relief to Karrion and Thalia—but when they looked to Raine, their hearts clenched.
Raine lay collapsed on the fungal carpet, utterly spent. He had rescued them from the death trap, but at tremendous cost.
He trembled violently under cold sweat, as if drawn from ice water, his body shuddering so hard it rippled the fungus beneath him. His skin was ghost‑white, lips bluish‑purple, eyes closed tight, brows locked in agony.
His breathing was almost no more than a whisper, each gasp seeming to drain every ounce of strength from his chest.
"Raine!" Karrion shouted, dropping beside him, fumbling to find his pulse—so faint it might vanish at any moment.
Thalia knelt on his other side, brushing his forehead with a pale finger. She felt his icy chill—hardly mortal—and something else: a creeping, hungry corruption energy seeping in.
Raine's starlight magic—already razor‑thin—had nearly flickered out entirely, consumed by the backlash of his forced foresight. Worse, Thalia sensed corruption creeping in to replace that vanished light.
"No…" she whispered, horror blooming in her eyes.
Black veins—fine as spider's webs—began to lace Raine's skin where the remaining starlight had once gleamed.
Raine's consciousness teetered toward oblivion, body convulsing in a half‑lucid, hellish fit. He lay trapped, starlight extinguished, corruption encroaching—life itself hanging by a thread.
Karrion, seeing those veins of corruption, pale as a specter, panicked. "Corruption?! How—?!"
Thalia neither flinched nor panicked. She stared at the spreading darkness under Raine's skin, realizing the dire truth: only one desperate remedy remained—but its price would be horrifying.
Down in that fungal grotto, only Karrion's ragged breathing and Raine's agonized moans echoed—death's shadow looming as a new, more terrible fate closed in.