The carriage jolts to a halt. Mud sprays from the wheel as the shard’s glow sharpens, pulling a pale path toward the brush.
At the treeline, the shadows fold inward and rise into a tall, hooded figure. The cold voice comes again, smooth as water over stone. 'You carry a beacon. Give it to me, and the wild will pass you by.'
Mara
Stay behind me, Elysia.
Bran
No. It wants the shard, not us. If it takes it, the path behind us stays clear. If not, more will come.
The figure takes one slow step from the dark, and the shard answers with a bright, hungry pulse. The glow spills over the pasture, tracing the shape of something moving just beyond the grass.
Mara tightens her grip on the dagger, Bran shifts closer to the carriage, and Elysia stands at the center of it all, the shard’s lure now plain. Whatever comes next is coming for the cargo, and she must keep it from reaching them.
“I step between the carriage and the figure. "This carriage, it's people, and it's cargo are under my protection. You can explain yourself or leave, but if you want this beacon, you must convince us or bring me low."”
FAILURE (Mediocre Willpower, rolled -3)
Elysia steps into the gap, staff angled across her chest. The shard’s light skims over her cloak, and the pressure in the air stutters as if it meets a wall.
The Hooded Figure
Protection is a lovely word. It does not change what that shard is.
Bran
Elysia, wait. It is not bait, it is a key. I have seen one before, and it only wakes near old bindings.
Mara
A key to what? Speak plainly, Bran. We are standing in mud with a stranger and a glowing curse.
Bran
To a seal, I think. The shard is hungry because something beneath the pasture is answering it.
The hooded figure lifts one hand, palm open, and the glow in the carriage compartment deepens to a gold-white throb. The grass nearest the wheels trembles, bent toward the light.
The Hooded Figure
Hand it over, and you will learn no more than you must. Refuse, and the ground will remember you.