Tauriel was still catching her breath from the earlier flight when the temperature around her dropped without warning. She spun, staff already half-raised, and froze.
The creature stood less than three paces away.
It had not only passed through the barrier but had appeared beside her without triggering a single one of her senses. No footsteps. No displacement of air. No surge of mana. One moment the path behind her had been empty. The next, the thing was simply there.
It lacked any true physical form. Its outline flickered like smoke caught in a weak wind, roughly humanoid but constantly shifting at the edges. In places it was almost transparent. In others it held a denser, darker mass that seemed to drink in the surrounding light. Despite the absence of flesh or bone, an unmistakable evil radiated from it in waves. The same crushing dread Tauriel had felt at the distortion now pressed against her from only a few steps away, stronger and more focused.
She knew immediately that she could not allow this thing to reach the others.
Tauriel took a sharp detour, cutting off the path and turning to face the entity fully, ready to intercept. The ghost did not slow. It did not even acknowledge her presence. Its attention remained fixed on a single point ahead—the main house where Ylva and Mae waited. The creature continued forward in a straight, deliberate line, gliding rather than walking, as if the physical world were only a minor obstacle.
Realizing its target with sudden clarity, Tauriel abandoned any attempt to block it directly. She turned and sprinted toward the house, pouring magic into her legs to enhance her speed. The ground blurred beneath her. She overtook the slow-moving entity within seconds and burst through the front door with enough force to slam it against the wall.
"Something breached the barrier!" she screamed, voice raw. "Get ready—now!"
Mae and Ylva reacted instantly. Mae’s powerful frame tensed as she lowered her stance, heavy hands curling into fists. Ylva’s eyes narrowed, claws already extending from her fingertips as a low growl rumbled in her throat.
"What is it?" Mae shouted.
"Something came through," Tauriel gasped, still struggling to steady her breathing. "A ghost-like thing. No solid body, but the power coming off it is terrible. It’s heading straight here."
Ylva’s expression hardened. "How did it get past the barrier!?"
"I don’t know," Tauriel answered. "I saw a distortion at the perimeter. This thing came out of it. It appeared right beside me without making a sound. It’s almost here!"
Mae adjusted her footing, planting her strong legs firmly. "Then we face it together."
Ylva gave a single sharp nod, fangs slightly bared. "Stay close. Whatever this is, it won’t reach us without a fight."
The three women moved into position without further discussion. Tauriel remained by the open doorway, staff raised, ready to intercept the moment the entity crossed the threshold. Mae stood slightly behind and to the left, ready to charge with raw physical force. Ylva took position on the opposite side, claws gleaming, muscles coiled for a sudden strike.
"We can’t let it inside," Tauriel warned. "Keep your guard up."
"I’m ready," Mae said, voice tight but steady.
"Whatever happens, we stay united," Ylva declared.
Silence settled over the house. The only sounds were their controlled breathing and the faint creak of wood as the structure reacted to the rising tension. Outside, the air grew heavier by the second. The evil presence pressed closer, slow and inevitable. Each heartbeat felt louder than the last. The weight of the approaching threat settled onto their shoulders like a physical burden.
Tauriel’s mind raced through possibilities. Conventional strikes might pass straight through a formless entity. She spoke the concern aloud without taking her eyes off the doorway.
"If it has no physical form, our usual attacks might not work."
Mae tightened her fists. "Then we find what does work."
Ylva’s voice remained calm and absolute. "We adapt. We survive."
The three partners stood ready, their shared resolve hardening as the ghost drew ever closer to the threshold of their home. The barrier around the settlement had failed them once. They would not allow it to fail again here.
The entity did not open the door. It phased straight through the solid wood as if the barrier between outside and inside meant nothing. One moment the doorway stood empty. The next, the ghostly form was already inside the house, its shifting outline flickering under the lantern light.
Ylva reacted first.
Despite her pregnancy, she planted her feet, drew in a deep breath, and unleashed a powerful sonic scream. The raw force of the sound wave exploded outward. The front door shattered into splinters. Furniture nearest the entrance cracked and toppled. The very air vibrated under the intensity of the frequency.
The creature reacted. Its form rippled violently under the sonic assault, edges fraying like torn cloth. For a brief moment it recoiled, then sank downward and phased directly into the floorboards, vanishing from sight.
The three women stood frozen, eyes scanning every surface.
"Where did it go?" Mae demanded.
Tauriel’s grip on her staff tightened. "I can’t sense it. It has no mana signature... nothing."
Ylva’s claws remained partially extended, ears twitching as she listened. "It didn’t leave. It’s still here."
Tauriel’s mind raced. The entity had ignored her at the barrier and moved with single-minded purpose toward the house. It had not been interested in her. That meant the target was already inside.
The realization struck hard.
"The baby..."
Tauriel turned and sprinted down the short hallway toward the nursery. Ylva and Mae followed close behind. They shoved the door open and stopped.
The ghost hovered directly above the crib. Its formless hand was already reaching downward toward the small, sleeping infant.
"Get away from my child!" Tauriel shouted.
The entity paused only long enough to turn its featureless face toward her. Then it waved one translucent hand.
A violent blast of dark energy erupted from its palm, expanding outward in a sphere of pure destructive force. The crib shuddered. The walls of the nursery cracked. The force was strong enough to kill the baby and everyone else in the house.
Tauriel lunged forward, desperate to reach her child and shield him.
She never made it.
The blast detonated before she could close the distance, erupting outward in all directions and consuming everything in its path.
-
Thalion’s eyes opened slowly.
The first thing he registered was pain—dull, distant, and wrapped beneath layers of clean bandages that covered most of his torso, arms, and one side of his neck. He lay on a simple woven mat inside a small shelter made of driftwood and large seashells. Soft light filtered in through gaps in the walls. The air smelled strongly of salt and something faintly medicinal.
He sat up carefully. His body responded, but everything felt unfamiliar. When he tried to remember how he had gotten here, or who he was, or even his own name, he found only empty space. Nothing. No images. No emotions tied to the past. Just a blank, quiet void where memories should have been.
He was a blank canvas.
Thalion pushed himself to his feet and stepped outside.
What he saw made him freeze.
He stood on a small plot of solid land, no larger than a modest clearing, completely surrounded by open sea. In every direction, endless blue water stretched to the horizon. There was no coastline. No distant mountains. Just this isolated patch of earth floating in the middle of the ocean. Waves lapped gently against the edges of the land.
"What the fuck is going on...?" he muttered under his breath.
Before he could take another step, the water near the shore rippled. A figure emerged smoothly from beneath the surface. It was a mermaid. She had been the same one who, long ago, had pulled a particular human from danger. That detail remained vague in the world, known only as a quiet connection from the very beginning.
Thalion stumbled backward, eyes wide with fear. His hands rose defensively even though he had no idea what he was defending against.
"Where am I?" he demanded, voice shaking. "What are you? What are you doing?"
The mermaid held up both hands quickly, palms open. "Quiet—please! Keep your voice down." She glanced toward the deeper water with clear worry. "If you make too much noise, my parents will hear. I’ll get in serious trouble."
Thalion’s breathing stayed rapid, but something about her presence made the sharp edge of panic ease. He sensed no hostility from her. No malice. Only a calm, almost gentle aura that settled over him without force.
He lowered his hands slightly. "Did... did you fix me?"
The mermaid looked at the bandages wrapped around his body. A small, proud smile touched her lips as she studied her own work.
"Yes," she said simply. "You were in bad shape when you washed up. I did what I could."
Thalion stared at her, then at the endless water surrounding them, still struggling to understand anything about who he was or how he had ended up in a place like this. The blankness in his mind remained absolute. All he knew was that he was alive, bandaged, and standing on a tiny island in the middle of the sea with a mermaid who had apparently saved him.
And for now, that was all he had.