The howl had been a warning.
By nightfall, Umbra and Sunny reached the edge of a dense forest, its twisted branches casting long shadows beneath the moonlight. Somewhere beyond the trees, movement stirred — figures cloaked in dark robes, eyes glowing faintly in the gloom.
"Scouts," Sunny whispered. "They've been tracking us."
Umbra tightened his grip on the shadow blade. "Then it's time we show them why they should fear the Shadowbrand."
They slipped silently between the trees, shadows stretching and bending with Umbra's will. Ahead, a small campfire flickered, illuminating the faces of the watchers: members of the Obsidian Veil — a secretive order devoted to controlling shadow magic.
One stepped forward, a woman with piercing silver eyes. "Umbra," she said, voice cold yet familiar. "You bear the mark of the fallen guardians. You should not have come this far."
Umbra's eyes narrowed. "And yet here I stand. I seek only to reclaim what was stolen — my name, my power, my freedom."
The woman smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Freedom? You don't understand the cost. The shadows demand sacrifice."
Sunny stepped beside Umbra, hand on his dagger. "Then we'll pay it. But on our terms."
Tension crackled in the air like a storm ready to break.