The object in Marcus’s hands thrums colder, and the symbols slide like wet ink when he blinks. At the treeline, the purple mist knots inward, making a narrow throat in the fog. Heavy footsteps drag closer, slow and sure.
Marcus
The pattern is meant to be opened, not read.
Marcus turns the artifact over. The oak roots around the hollow flex as if listening, fresh soil trembling at the rim. Brann leans in, tense and pale, while the Bound Figure keeps their eyes fixed on the fog.
Brann
If it takes a name, give it the wrong one. Just draw it in.
Marcus presses the iron-dark edge into the waiting hollow in the roots. The pulse answers, and a thin ring of pale light crawls across the opening like a lock turning.
The hunter steps out of the mist at last, tall and lean, its face hidden beneath a torn hood. The clearing goes still. The oak’s roots tighten around the hollow, ready to snap shut when the thing crosses the line.
✓ Quest Accepted
Banish the hunter