It began with a shimmer—a faint red glow swirling along the earth like smoke caught in a breeze.
A single ribbon of crimson light crept through the jungle floor, weaving through the roots and stones with purpose. It was beautiful at first—almost magical—until it reached the heart of the Shadowkin village and halted, pulsing like a heartbeat just outside Anikin's house.
A silence fell across the village.
Then came the screams.
Women clutched their children and fled to the safety of their homes, closing bark-woven doors behind them. Men rushed out of their homes, weapons formed from conjured flame and ice in their hands. The tranquil village was thrown into a frenzy as the red trail shimmered brighter in the moonlight, now clearly visible to all.
Anikin stood frozen on the threshold of his home, staring at the glowing path. The wind had stilled, the birds had gone quiet.
Selena and the others, startled by the sudden panic, rushed toward him.
"What's happening?" Luther demanded, glancing from the crimson trail to the tense faces surrounding them.
Anikin's voice was low and grim. "This… this is blood-summoning magic. A final plea for help. It only appears when a Shadowkin has one breath left and no other hope."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Who sent it?"
Anikin's jaw tightened, his shoulders rigid. "I do not know… but the path ends here. At my door. That means it's someone close to me."
Selena's heart dropped.
She turned, scanning the crowd, searching the faces.
"Ariwin?" she breathed.
She ran back inside, calling out her name. No response. Panic gripped her chest like a vice. "ARIWIN!"
Kael placed a calming hand on her shoulder, but even Stormclaw growled uneasily.
"She was going to gather herbs," Selena muttered, almost to herself. "Said she'd be back before sunset."
Anikin's face darkened. "Farakin was with her."
The realization settled like ash over them all.
The crimson trail still pulsed at their feet.
Anikin turned sharply. "Warriors! With me. Prepare for anything."
Old shadowkin elders emerged from the shadows, their hands aglow with ancient magic. Warriors formed in silence, faces grim.
"We're coming too," Luther said, his voice firm. Arya stepped beside him, nodding silently. Kael was already walking forward, Stormclaw at his side.
Anikin didn't argue.
They moved swiftly, the red trail guiding them deeper into the jungle. The jungle, once so serene, now felt like a living thing—watching, listening, waiting.
It didn't take long.
In a clearing framed by twisted roots and tall ferns, they found him.
Farakin lay sprawled in the grass, blood soaking his leathers, one hand still stretched forward as if trying to reach the village. His blade was shattered beside him, and burns marked the ground where his magic had flared.
Selena gasped and rushed forward, but Anikin reached him first.
"Farakin," Anikin whispered, cradling the young man's head. "Where is she?"
Farakin coughed, blood staining his lips. "They… came from the sea… northern shore…" His breath rattled.
"They wore the skins of our kin," he hissed. "Our magic… it couldn't touch them…"
Luther stepped forward, kneeling beside them.
Farakin turned to him, his eyes full of pain and urgency. "Save her," he whispered. "Save Ariwin… save my future…"
Then his eyes went still.
The forest was silent.