The mist clung to the sisters like a living thing, curling around their boots and wrapping tendrils around their weapons. It carried a faint metallic tang, and the further they moved into the Blighted Plains, the heavier it grew. Even the sound of their footsteps seemed muffled, swallowed by the oppressive stillness.

  “This place is worse than I imagined,” Eira muttered, her ice-rimed spear gleaming faintly as she spun it idly in one hand. She scanned the desolate landscape, her sharp blue eyes darting to every shadow. “It feels… hungry.”

  “It’s just a place,” Vira said, her voice steady as she hefted her warhammer over one shoulder. “We’ve faced worse.”

  “Places don’t hum,” Nala whispered, clutching the short sword at her side. Her green eyes flicked nervously to Zarya, who walked a few paces ahead. The faint glow of the shard in Zarya’s satchel pulsed with an unsettling rhythm, one that seemed to resonate with the air around them.

  “Don’t stare at it,” Zarya said sharply, not turning around. Her fiery hair glimmered under her hood, and her hand rested protectively over the satchel. “It’s not the shard that’s dangerous. It’s what’s out here.”

  Rhea, leading the group, raised a hand to signal a stop. Her piercing blue eyes swept the landscape. Blackened soil stretched as far as the eye could see, broken only by jagged rocks and twisted, leafless trees. A faint green glow shimmered on the horizon.

  “We camp here,” Rhea said. “Nala, Eira—scout the perimeter. Vira, help me set up the fire. Zarya…” She hesitated, glancing at her sister. “Keep watch. Let us know if you sense anything.”

  “I’m not a compass,” Zarya muttered, but she moved to a nearby rise, scanning the horizon.

  Nala and Eira crept along the edge of their makeshift camp, their footsteps light on the brittle ground. The silence was unnerving, broken only by the occasional crack of a distant rockfall or the faint rustle of the mist.

  “This isn’t so bad,” Nala said, trying to keep her voice light. “It’s quiet, at least.”

  “Too quiet,” Eira replied. She paused, her spear raised slightly, and frowned at the ground. “Look at this.”

  Nala crouched beside her, following her gaze. The ground was marked with strange tracks—elongated, clawed footprints that seemed to sink unnaturally deep into the earth. The mist pooled around them, thick and unmoving.

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  “Those aren’t animal tracks,” Nala whispered.

  “No,” Eira agreed. She straightened, her grip tightening on her spear. “Let’s finish the sweep and get back to camp.”

  As they turned to leave, a faint sound reached their ears—a soft, keening wail that sent chills racing down Nala’s spine.

  “What was that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Eira didn’t answer. Her eyes scanned the mist, her body tense. “Keep moving.”

  Back at the camp, Vira crouched over a small pile of tinder, striking flint against steel with practiced efficiency. Sparks danced in the air, catching the dry wood and coaxing a faint flame to life. Rhea stood nearby, her greataxe resting at her side.

  “Do you think the clerics were right about the outpost?” Vira asked, her voice low.

  “They’ve never sent us off on a fool’s errand before,” Rhea replied. She glanced toward Zarya, who stood silhouetted against the faint green glow in the distance. “But I don’t trust their motives completely.”

  Vira nodded, feeding more wood into the growing fire. “And Zarya?”

  Rhea didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze lingered on their sister, her posture rigid and her hand gripping the satchel like a lifeline.

  “She’ll tell us what we need to know,” Rhea said finally, though her voice lacked conviction.

  Nala and Eira returned to camp just as the last rays of light faded, replaced by an eerie green glow that seemed to seep into the air itself. Nala’s face was pale, her hand gripping her short sword tightly.

  “We heard something,” she said. “Out in the mist.”

  “Tracks too,” Eira added. “Big ones. Something’s moving out there.”

  Rhea stood, her eyes narrowing. “Everyone stay close to the fire. Whatever’s out there won’t like the light.”

  The sisters tightened their circle, weapons drawn. The mist shifted and swirled, and for a moment, silence fell over the plains.

  Then, it came.

  A hulking shape emerged from the darkness, its body twisted and malformed. Its glowing green eyes locked onto the sisters as it let out a guttural snarl. Clawed hands scraped against the earth, and its jagged teeth gleamed in the firelight.

  “Spread out!” Rhea commanded, her voice steady despite the tension. She swung her greataxe, stepping forward to draw its attention.

  The battle was quick and brutal. Vira’s warhammer slammed into the creature’s side, while Eira’s spear found purchase in its exposed flank. Nala darted in and out, her blade flashing as she struck at its legs. Zarya held back, her quarterstaff raised, as the shard pulsed violently within her satchel.

  The creature let out a final, piercing wail before collapsing into the dirt. As its body disintegrated into ash, the mist around it seemed to recede slightly.

  The sisters stood In silence, catching their breath. The mist swirled around them, thinner now but no less oppressive. Zarya knelt beside the ashes, her amber eyes glowing faintly.

  “It was drawn to the shard,” she said quietly. She looked up at her sisters, her expression grim. “And there will be more.”

  Rhea nodded, gripping her greataxe tightly. “Then we’d better be ready.”

  The faint green glow on the horizon pulsed, steady and unrelenting.