As dusk fell, Kieran double-checked his gear. His sword was sharpened, his pack filled with essentials, and Rag remained at his side, alert and ready. Jace arrived shortly after, holding a lantern and looking more resolute than usual.
"Ready?" Jace asked.
Kieran nodded. "Let's meet Bram and the others at the village edge."
A small group had gathered—mostly the younger, sturdier villagers who had the courage to face whatever lay ahead. Bram stood at the front, leaning on his staff, while Mira handed out small charms meant to ward off evil.
"These might not do much," she admitted, pressing one into Kieran's hand. "But it's better than nothing."
Bram raised his voice to address the group. "We go to the ruins to seek answers. If something waits there, we face it as one. Stay together, and don't stray from the path."
The group moved out, lanterns bobbing in the twilight. The forest swallowed them up, thick branches clawing at their clothes. Rag led the way, nose to the ground, while Kieran kept his senses sharp, every sound setting his nerves on edge.
As they approached the ruins, an unnatural chill settled over them. The ancient stones jutted from the earth like jagged teeth, their surfaces covered in faded runes. Bram murmured a prayer under his breath, but even that seemed to fade in the oppressive atmosphere.
"Over here!" Jace whispered, pointing to a fresh mark on one of the stones—a deep, clawed slash identical to those seen before. The scent of burned earth lingered.
Suddenly, a low growl rumbled from behind them. Rag's fur bristled, and Kieran spun around, sword drawn. Emerging from the shadows was a creature—its eyes glowing faintly, body hunched and unnatural, as if twisted by some foul curse.
The villagers recoiled, and Bram raised his staff, chanting an incantation. The creature snarled, lunging forward, but Kieran met it head-on, steel clashing with claws. Jace circled around, swinging his axe, while the others scrambled to hold the line.
The fight was brutal, the beast faster than expected. It swiped at Kieran, claws grazing his arm before Rag sank his teeth into its leg, dragging it down. With a swift motion, Kieran drove his blade through its chest, and the creature let out a final, bone-chilling wail before collapsing.
Silence fell, broken only by heavy breathing. Bram inspected the corpse, frowning. "This is just a scout," he muttered. "Something stronger commands it."
Kieran wiped his blade clean. "Then we need to be ready. This was just the beginning."
Jace glanced at the ruins, unease clear in his eyes. "If this was just a minion... what's waiting deeper in?"
Bram didn't answer, and the villagers shared fearful looks. Kieran sheathed his sword, determination hardening his gaze. Whatever evil lay in the heart of the ruins, they would face it—together.