Zee massaged his bruised eye, his gaze fixed on the uneven forest floor. Each of his trudging steps matched the rhythm of my hooves as I walked beside him. Since last night, his brooding silence spoke louder than any words. He hadn’t mentioned his outburst, nor had he acknowledged the precarious alliance we’d forged.

  “It’ll take at least a month to reach the free city,” Belinda said, her voice calm and matter-of-fact as she led the way through the dense forest. Her sharp gaze scanned the path ahead, her movements deft and sure. She navigated the terrain with an ease that neither Zee nor I could match, her instincts sharp as a blade.

  The towering trees around us stretched into the heavens, their gnarled branches interlocking to form a near-impenetrable canopy. Each step I took was a labor against the oppressive atmosphere—the air thick with moisture and an inexplicable tension.

  “There are the elves’ portals,” Belinda continued, her tone carrying an undercurrent of disdain. “But we wouldn’t be able to reach one alive.”

  I turned my head slightly toward her, my thoughts brushing against the telepathic connection forged by Asher’s pendant. ‘Do you think the goblins would have any?’

  At the mention, Zee’s head snapped up. His hardened eyes narrowed with a sharpness that cut through his silence. “Arcane magic?” he scoffed, his tone defensive, almost accusatory. “The goblins have no use for such things.”

  Belinda raised an eyebrow. “No use for portals?”

  Zee smacked a low-hanging branch out of his way with exaggerated force, only for it to swing back and hit him squarely. He winced, rubbing the back of his head as he muttered, “Oi, don’t we have legs, Gods’ gave them for a reason.”

  ‘So we walk,’ I said, the statement falling like a heavy stone between us.

  Belinda glanced at me, her expression flickering with subtle irritation before smoothing into indifference. “Not necessarily.”

  I turned my head towards her, noting her slight hesitation, ‘If there’s even the slightest possibility, I’d prefer not to walk.”

  “The fairies possess countless portals, my family, the Redwoods, were in good standing with the fairy queen.” She paused, murderous intent slipping through her visage. Belinda composed herself, “We just need to find a fairy, and ask for passage through the portal.”

  “Bwahh,” Zee chimed in, “The fairies are annoying egotistical buggers that only care about their interests, only thing worse would be the elves.” He turned to Belinda, “With all due respect.”

  Belinda didn’t comment; rather she began to fidget with the ancient relic around her neck, Asher’s necklace, its power and craftsmanship defied her seasoned understanding of arcane artifacts. Yet, even its mysteries offered no shortcut through the forest.

  She took the lead, proving herself indispensable once again. Twice in one day, she had dispatched venomous serpents camouflaged against the mossy floor, their fangs poised to strike. Her daggers moved like extensions of her body, her strikes as graceful as they were lethal. She was a force of nature, her connection to the forest as undeniable as the trees that loomed above us.

  Abruptly, Belinda halted, raising a hand to signal us to stop. I moved closer, peering over her shoulder. Footprints marred the forest floor—large and human-like, yet unmistakably not human. Each step pressed deep into the earth, their size suggesting immense weight.

  ‘Do humans normally travel through this forest?’ I asked, my unease growing.

  “They do,” Belinda replied, crouching to examine the tracks. Her voice was measured, but her eyes betrayed her wariness. “Part of the trade agreements they have with certain creatures here. But they don’t come alone.”

  The single set of footprints told a different story. Whatever had passed through here was alone, and its gait suggested something wounded or weary.

  A low, guttural growl shattered the uneasy quiet.

  From the shadows emerged the source of the tracks. A towering troll, its moss-covered body blending with the foliage, lumbered into view. It stood over ten feet tall, its bulk radiating raw power despite the unsteady sway of its movements. Deep gashes marred its back, the wounds oozing a black, necrotic substance that crept through its flesh like a spreading rot.

  Belinda’s hands moved to the hilts of her daggers. Zee scurried behind me, as I began circulating mana, preparing for the confrontation that seemed inevitable.

  But the troll didn’t attack.

  Instead, it groaned, its massive hands outstretched in what could only be described as a plea.

  ‘What’s it saying?’ I asked, my defensive stance unyielding.

  Zee hesitated, then spoke, his voice tinged with surprise. “It’s asking for help.”

  I studied the creature more closely. The necrotic hue spreading across its wounds was unnatural, its edges frayed with an oily blackness that defied the troll’s natural healing abilities.

  Zee stepped forward cautiously, speaking in the troll’s guttural tongue. Their exchange was brief, the troll’s voice strained and broken. Finally, Zee turned back to us, his expression troubled.

  “Its tribe was attacked,” Zee said, his voice low. “By something… something like black mud.”

  ‘A black mud?’ I pressed, the phrase conjuring a host of possibilities.

  Zee nodded, his eyes meeting mine. “It’s destroying them. They don’t know what it is or how to stop it.”

  “We should help them,” Zee said firmly, stepping closer to the troll. “The trolls helped our village before. We owe them a favor.”

  Belinda scoffed, crossing her arms. “I don’t believe we should be dragged into your debts, goblin.”

  Zee ignored her, his focus unwavering. He looked to me, his eyes carrying an unspoken plea.

  My thoughts flickered back to last night. Zee’s anger, his reckless charge against Belinda, had been fueled by desperation. Now, that same desperation burned in his gaze, tempered by something new—hope. Fragile, but persistent.

  ‘Do you think they have anything to offer us?’ I asked, my tone calm but firm. ‘I’ll agree to help, but not out of charity.’

  Zee blinked, momentarily taken aback. He turned back to the troll, speaking quickly in its tongue. After a moment, he looked at me, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They have a way to transport us through the forest,” he said.

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  Belinda sighed, her expression resigned. “Wonderful,” she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  With the decision made, we followed the troll deeper into the forest. Its cautious, halting steps betrayed its pain, each movement accompanied by a low, mournful groan. Yet, it pressed on, leading us into the unknown, the weight of its wounds mirrored by the unease settling over our group.

  The air turned cold, heavy with the scent of damp earth and decay. The moss-covered ground squelched beneath my hooves, and the occasional snap of a twig sent a jolt of unease through Zee, who still clung to his wariness. Belinda remained at the rear, her sharp eyes darting between the trees, her hands never straying far from the hilts of her daggers.

  As we entered a clearing, the troll suddenly stopped. It groaned low in its throat, gesturing ahead with one massive, clawed hand. Following its gaze, I saw what had halted it—a scene of devastation that made my fur stand on end.

  The remains of the troll's tribe hung grotesquely from the trees, their twisted bodies swaying like macabre warnings. Their green flesh, now gray and lifeless, bore the same necrotic rot as the troll’s wounds. Pools of black ichor stained the forest floor, streaked with unnatural lines that pulsed faintly in the dim light, as if alive.

  Belinda inhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing. “It’s the witch’s magic,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  The troll roared suddenly, its earlier trepidation vanishing in a burst of feral rage. It charged into the clearing, the ground shaking beneath its massive feet. I took a step forward, ready to follow, but Belinda’s voice cut through my thoughts.

  “Wait,” she commanded. “Something isn’t right.”

  But it was already too late.

  The troll reached the center of the clearing and halted abruptly, its roar turning into a guttural cry of agony. Its massive body convulsed, the black ichor seeping from its wounds spreading rapidly across its form. Its eyes, once dull and pained, turned a deep, unnatural black, and its breathing grew ragged and wild.

  “It’s being controlled,” Belinda said grimly, drawing her daggers. “Get ready.”

  The troll turned to face us, its movements jerky and unnatural, as though guided by unseen strings. Its roar now carried an unearthly timbre, a sound that seemed to reverberate through the very marrow of my bones.

  I stepped forward, summoning my flames. Their red light illuminated the clearing, casting long, flickering shadows that danced across the grotesque tableau. Zee scrambled behind me, his small frame trembling as he clutched his dagger with shaking hands.

  And then she appeared.

  From the edge of the clearing emerged a figure, her silhouette unnervingly childlike. She stepped into the firelight, her ashen-gray skin marred with deep cracks that oozed black ichor. Her vacant black eyes gleamed with twisted glee, and her crooked yellow teeth stretched into a grotesque smile. Her jerky movements added to her unnatural aura, like a puppet moving on tangled strings.

  “Ooo, goodie!” she squealed, clapping her hands together with a manic, sing-song voice. “More toys to play with!”

  The troll roared again, charging at us. I spewed a jet of flames in its path, but it swatted them aside with a massive, clawed hand, the fire extinguishing as though it had never existed. The creature was relentless, its movements both wild and precise.

  “Where are the black flames?” Belinda demanded, darting forward to intercept the troll. Her daggers flashed as she struck at its legs, her movements a blur of precision and grace. “Use them, Marcelo!”

  I swallowed my hesitation, I could feel the black flames stirring within me, a volatile force that hungered for release. But I knew their danger. They weren’t truly mine yet; they were a remnant that I brought with me from my past.

  Belinda dodged another swing of the troll’s massive arm, her blades leaving deep, but ultimately ineffective, gashes in its necrotic flesh. The creature’s stamina far outmatched ours, and it was becoming clear that we couldn’t win through brute force alone.

  The child-like witch tilted her head, watching the chaos unfold with gleeful fascination. “Oh, this is no good!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands again. “Sister said I needed subjects. Yes, subjects!”

  She raised her hands, and the ground beneath us began to darken. A thick, oily blackness spread like quicksand, pulling at our feet and trapping us in place. Belinda leaped into the trees above, her agility keeping her out of the spreading mire, but the witch was unfazed. With a flick of her wrist, tendrils of black mud shot up, chasing Belinda through the branches.

  “Ooo, we’re playing tag!” the witch squealed, her voice dripping with malicious delight.

  I struggled against the encroaching blackness, my hooves sinking deeper with each desperate attempt to pull free. The mud clung to me, dragging me down. Meanwhile, the volatile force within me, the black flames, churned violently. The heat in my core built to an unbearable crescendo, ready to be released.

  My gaze snapped to the witch, her jerky movements mirroring her twisted glee. She was too focused on Belinda, too confident in her control of the battlefield, to notice the rising storm within me. I lowered my muzzle, and with a silent command, I released the flames. Go forth. Consume her.

  A torrent of black fire erupted from my mouth, an inferno that devoured the space between us with ravenous speed. The flames licked at the oily mud, and the moment they touched, the fire spread uncontrollably, feeding on the dark ichor as though it were kindling. The troll roared in agony, its swing halted mid-air as the flames engulfed it.

  “AAHH!” the witch shrieked, her once-playful voice twisting into one of panic. “He—Hellfire! Why is there Hellfire in a place like this?”

  Her words echoed in the chaos, but the fire paid no heed. It surged outward, a destructive force beyond my control, consuming everything in its path. The heat scorched the air, and I felt the sharp tug of mana draining from my core as the flames grew wilder, more feral.

  The fire turned toward us.

  I jerked my head to Zee, who stood frozen, his wide eyes locked on the encroaching inferno. His face was pale, his body trembling as if the reality of our plight had just crashed down on him. ‘Zee, we have to go!’ I called through the mental link, my voice cutting through the chaos.

  He jolted as though struck, shaking free of his stupor. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

  “It’s okay, Zee,” I interrupted, forcing calm into my voice. “Now isn’t the time for apologies. We need a way out.”

  A cry from above drew my attention. Belinda had leaped into the trees, her daggers flashing as she fended off the mud’s tendrils. But even she wasn’t safe. One of the tendrils lashed out, coiling around her leg mid-leap, yanking her downward. She cried out, her body dragged toward the pool of fire that now consumed everything.

  The witch’s cackling had ceased, but the mud’s relentless pull told me she was still alive. My hooves sank further into the dark sludge, the heat of the flames licking at my flank. The weight of it all pressed against my chest, the urgency pounding in my head.

  Think. Move. My mind raced, searching for a way to break free. As the black slime climbed to my neck, and the fire closed in on all sides, I closed my eyes and reached for the mana that roared within me. The flames had taken on a life of their own, using my mana as it pleased, but there had to be something—anything—that could save us.

  Among the inner turmoil, a pulse caught my attention. A rhythm, steady and distant, like a faint heartbeat. The bond.

  Yes, there it was—a thread, fragile yet unbroken, connecting me to Elara. It whispered to me, faint but insistent, her presence like an anchor amidst the chaos. Desperate, I reached for it, willing it to respond.

  The darkness tightened its grip, dragging Zee deeper into its clutches. The mud had already swallowed him up to his chest, and my own limbs were nearly immobilized. But the bond answered.

  Like a spark igniting a tempest, a surge of power coursed through me—icy and sharp, its coldness cutting through the suffocating heat. The world around me erupted in a brilliant blue glow. Ice surged outward, forming crystalline structures from the very air. The black flames collided with the ice, consuming it, only for more ice to form in its place.

  The clash was violent, the flux within me threatening to shatter my core. The flames and ice fed on my mana in an endless cycle, each drawing more energy than I could give. Pain lanced through me as my core fractured, magical energy spilling out in an uncontrolled torrent. The flames and ice dissipated in an instant, leaving only a hollow ache behind.

  The ground beneath us froze, and I found a fleeting moment of control. I forced the frozen earth to lift Zee and me, breaking free of the mud’s relentless pull. The effort left me gasping, my legs trembling as the strain overwhelmed me.

  I turned to Belinda, watching as she freed herself from the tendrils and leaped toward us. But the effort of keeping upright was too much—stars danced in my vision, and a sharp pain throbbed at my temples. My body faltered as my strength waned.

  Belinda reached out, grabbing my muzzle as I staggered. Her eyes were wide with shock, her voice urgent. “We need to go!” she panted, her words trembling with both exhaustion and resolve.

  I could hardly hear her over the pounding in my skull. She grabbed Zee in one arm, steadying him as she pulled me forward with the other. Together, we stumbled into the forest.

  My mind was clouded with pain and exhaustion, but one thought burned brighter than the rest. Elara