Shadows of the Past

The Hunted

The light of a single candle flickered across the parchment, casting elongated shadows that danced upon the walls of the room. We were clustered together—Sebastian's brow furrowed in concentration, Anne's fingers tracing the intricate web of lines and symbols, Ominis's unseeing gaze swept across the room, his head tilting slightly as if listening to the subtle shifts in the air.

I leaned over the worn map, my hair falling like a dark curtain around the edges of the parchment. The markings of Purist strongholds intertwined with the map's creases, a visual history of fear and hidden agendas. Rookwood's name was a venomous echo in our conversations, his presence felt like a malevolent ghost haunting every path we pursued. "He's morphed into no more than a mere shadow," I murmured softly, feeling the lines on the map blur as I contemplated the man who symbolized both our anguish and our nemesis.

"Ophelia," Sebastian whispered, his hand hovering close to mine, a silent gesture of solidarity. His touch carried the promise of comfort, a fleeting solace I longed for but had to deny myself in our precarious situation.

"Remember," I said, pulling back slightly, "no matter what we find or what may happen, I can't use magic." The words felt like shackles around my wrists, each syllable a reminder of the trace that clung to me, a relentless watchdog waiting to snitch at the slightest provocation.

"Then we'll just have to be smarter," Anne chimed in, her voice steady despite the gravity of our situation. Her resolve was a beacon, a guiding star in an otherwise oppressive night.

Sebastian gestured towards a spot on the map and declared, "This is where we should begin."

It was going to be a long journey on foot, but we had to make it. I couldn't use magic, and I refused to stay behind.

As we arrived, the ink-black streets of North Ford Bog stretched out before us like a twisted maze, designed to disorient and entrap any who dared enter. The air was thick with the tang of magic and grime, a scent that clung to the inside of your nostrils and seemed to coat your lungs with every breath. Shadows danced along the cobbled streets, their movements mysterious and alluring. This was a place where secrets were kept and deals were made, and danger lurked around every corner. But for those who thrived on adventure and risk, it was a playground unlike any other.

"Keep close," I murmured, my eyes scanning the shadows. Every flicker of movement seemed predatory, every whisper of sound a potential threat. Every step we took felt like a gamble, our senses on high alert as we navigated through the darkness. My hand trembled slightly as it gripped my wand, only to comfort myself as it was of no use to me now. Sebastian's jaw was set in determination, his wand at the ready as well. Anne's hand instinctively reached for her own wand, her eyes darting to and fro as she kept watch for any signs of movement.

"Did you see that?" Anne whispered fiercely, her voice laced with steel.

"See what?" Ominis quipped with a low chuckle, his voice light but infused with playful sarcasm. It was his typical tactic for hiding the fact that he couldn't see a thing.

But the atmosphere was too tense to return the chuckle. "Them," I murmured, nodding slightly towards a group huddled in the mouth of an alley. Their eyes gleamed like those of nocturnal beasts, hunting and tracking their prey.

"Can you make out who they are?" Sebastian asked in a hushed tone.

"No," I responded, feeling a hollow pit form in my stomach. "Let's go." We quickly turned and retreated from the shadows, our hearts racing with unease and fear.

We moved on, our steps synchronized, a collective entity moving through the night. The figures emerged from the shadows, trailing us with a persistence that turned the air heavy and cold. It was clear they recognized us not as fellow purists but as quarry.