The fire steadied only after long, thin minutes of silence, its flames shivering like a frightened animal, as though it too had felt the Herald's presence crawl across the plateau. The group didn't move. No one spoke. Not even Caelan, who could usually be trusted to break unbearable tension with some poorly timed joke.
Aelindra kept her arms around Severin until his breathing leveled, slow but uneven, as if every inhale carried the weight of the Herald's whisper lodged in it. When she finally pulled back, her hands stayed on his shoulders, grounding him.
"You're here," she said softly.
He nodded, though the exhaustion in his eyes made it seem like he was agreeing with her out of sheer will rather than certainty.
Arveth scanned the ridge with a grim set to his jaw. "A projection at this distance…" He shook his head. "The Herald grows brazen."
Marienne lowered her bow, though her fingers kept brushing the fletching. "So he can see us."
"No," Arveth corrected. "He can see Severin."
The words dropped like a stone in water, rippling through the group.
Aelindra felt Severin tense beneath her hands.
He swallowed hard. "He's been trying to… push into my mind. More often today than before."
"And you didn't think to mention that?" Caelan snapped.
Mira shot him a sharp glare, but Caelan barreled on, voice rising with real fear beneath the anger.
"He's not whispering to the forest or shouting through the valleys, he's targeting you. And if he pulls harder, what then? You collapse? Or worse?"
Aelindra didn't let go of Severin. "Caelan. Stop."
"No, he's right," Severin said quietly, rubbing his temples. "I should have said something."
Aelindra leaned closer. "We already talked about this. You don't have to protect us by keeping things hidden. Not anymore."
His gaze flicked toward her, searching, maybe for forgiveness, maybe for something steadier to anchor himself to, but she wasn't ready to offer either fully. The hurt from earlier still lingered, thin and sharp, but it didn't matter right now. His safety mattered more.
And the Herald's reach was growing.
Arveth crouched near the fire, drawing a slow circle in the dirt with the end of his staff. "We will need to reinforce your mind before night fully settles." His voice was low, almost reluctant. "The Range is loud after sundown. If the Herald is already pulling at your thoughts, the mountains will amplify it."
"Amplify?" Mira asked.
"Every fear. Every memory. Every echo of magic inside you." He looked directly at Severin. "Especially yours."
Severin stiffened.
Aelindra reached for his hand without thinking, just instinct, just comfort, and he gripped it as if he was grateful for something solid.
Caelan scrubbed a hand down his face. "So, we're spending the night in a place that wants to eat our nightmares. Brilliant."
"Not eat," Arveth said dryly. "More like… stir."
"That's somehow worse," Caelan muttered.
Aelindra didn't disagree.
The wind shifted again, colder, sharper, and this time not carrying a voice, but a sound like distant stone grinding against itself. The mountains breathed. And the stars above flickered behind passing strips of cloud like they were trying not to be seen.
Aelindra drew her cloak tighter. "We should build more protection around the camp."
"We will," Arveth said. "But carefully. Too much magic draws attention in the Range."
Mira nodded, already kneeling to carve faint sigils into the ground, quiet ones, subtle, barely more than scratches to untrained eyes.
Marienne moved to gather more tinder.
Caelan scanned the shadows at the plateau's edge, daggers drawn.
And Severin…
Severin sat beside Aelindra, shoulders slumped, eyes distant, listening for something he couldn't help but hear.
She nudged him gently. "Don't drift."
He exhaled shakily. "I'm trying."
And Aelindra realized something then, something simple, painful, and impossible to ignore:
He wasn't just tired.
He was scared.
Of himself. Of the Herald whispering in his mind. Of what the Crownfire might do if pulled too hard. Of hurting them. Of losing control.
She shifted closer until her knee brushed his. "We're right here. All of us."
He didn't answer with words. Just leaned into her shoulder, barely, like he didn't want to take too much space but needed a place to rest.
She let him.
For a few breaths, it was quiet enough to feel the warmth of the fire on their faces and the cold mountain air clawing at their backs.
Then Arveth said, "We begin reinforcing his mind now. Before the Herald tries again."
Aelindra's spine straightened. "What do we need to do?"
The old mage rose slowly; eyes fixed on Severin with a mix of pity and steel. "You, Aelindra, will stay with him. Your presence stabilizes him more than my spells can."
Severin's head snapped up at that, color rising faintly to his cheeks.
Arveth ignored it.
"Mira, keep watch with Marienne. Caelan, circle the perimeter. Check for cracks in the stone. If the Herald uses shadow, it will pool in the low points."
Caelan nodded and jogged off, muttering something about "hunting shadow puddles."
Aelindra helped Severin shift closer to the fire.
Arveth lowered himself across from them. "This will not hurt," he said. "But it may be… unsettling."
Severin gave a humorless laugh. "Everything today has been unsettling."
Arveth lifted his staff.
The runes along its length glimmered faintly, red, gold, and the faintest line of blue.
Aelindra watched Severin's grip tighten around her hand.
"You ready?" she asked softly.
He nodded once.
Arveth touched the end of the staff to Severin's forehead.
The world went still.
The fire's crackling slowed.
The wind muffled, like cotton stuffed into the air.
Even the mountains seemed to lean closer.
Arveth murmured a spell in a language older than the kingdoms. It wasn't loud. Not dramatic. Just simple and steady, like someone stitching a torn seam with practiced hands.
Severin trembled.
Aelindra held his hand tighter.
Flashes rippled across his expression, fear, confusion, something like shame.
Arveth's eyes snapped open. "He's entangled deeper than I thought."
Aelindra leaned forward. "What does that mean?"
"It means…" Arveth grit his teeth. "The Herald isn't just calling him."
A cold weight dropped into Aelindra's stomach.
"…He's following him."
Severin's breath caught, shallow, painful.
Aelindra cupped his cheek. "Stay with me. Severin, look here."
He did.
Barely.
And when his gaze found hers, something inside her tightened with fierce protectiveness.
She wouldn't lose him.
Not to the Herald.
Not to the mountains.
Not to whatever darkness hunted him.
Arveth pressed harder with the staff, his voice growing louder, the spell weaving stronger threads into the air.
But then Severin flinched violently.
"Ael" he gasped, gripping her wrist.
She leaned in, forehead brushing his. "I'm here. I'm here. Breathe."
His breath stuttered.
The fire guttered again.
Shadows along the far ridge trembled.
Something moved in the dark.
Marienne froze mid-step.
Mira's charm flickered.
And Arveth whispered, a single terrified word:
"No."
The shadow that rose from the valley below wasn't a projection.
Not an illusion.
Not even the Herald.
This was something older.
Something hungry.
Something the Umbral Range had kept hidden for centuries.
Aelindra felt every instinct in her body scream,
RUN.