The Necromancer's airship hovered overhead, its crimson runes pulsing against the dull sky. Jax felt a tightness in his chest as he crouched behind jagged rocks with Jane. The silver-haired woman stood on the plain, her cloak billowing in the wind, dark eyes fixated on their hiding spot. Her smile was sharp—like a blade waiting to strike.
"Jax Thorne," she called again, her tone smooth but dripping with malice. "Hiding won't save you. Come out, or I'll tear this place apart."
Jane's grip tightened on Jax's arm, her stun gauntlet humming just above a whisper. "She's bluffing," she murmured, her fear masked by determination. "There's no way she knows exactly where we are."
Jax wasn't so convinced. The Construct murmured softly in his chest, vital energy dwindling. "Energy reserves: 14%. Hostile presence identified. Recommend evasion." The woman's power felt different from the scarred Necromancer's—colder, more precise, like she could snuff out his existence with a mere thought.
"We can't stay here," Jax whispered, wincing at the pain in his shoulder where the chain had grazed him. The journal in his pocket felt heavy, its words about the shrine and "the marked" burning in his mind. They needed to reach the Northern Wastes, but she was in their way.
Jane nodded, pulling out a small device from her bag—a decoy drone, compact like a fist. "This will distract her. When it takes off, we head for those trees." She pointed at a cluster of twisted trunks a hundred yards away, their branches promising cover.
Jax's stomach churned. "And if she catches us?"
Jane's smirk was grim. "Then you do your magic thing, and I'll blow something up."
He managed a weak smile, her confidence reigniting his own. "Deal."
With a quick flick, Jane activated the drone and tossed it up into the air. It buzzed upward, flashing red lights. The Necromancer's attention snapped to it, her staff glowing with dark energy. A tendril of black mist shot out, obliterating the drone in an explosion of sparks.
"Now!" Jane urged. They sprang from their hiding place, racing across the muddy expanse. Jax's legs screamed in protest, each step a Herculean effort. The trees loomed nearer, their shadows hinting at sanctuary. Behind them, the Necromancer's laughter rang out—sharp and mocking.
"Predictable," she purred, and the ground shook. Vines of black energy erupted from the earth, thrashing like snakes. One lunged at Jax, coiling around his ankle, and he fell hard, mud splattering his face.
"Jax!" Jane shouted, spinning to aim her gauntlet. A blue arc struck the vine, loosening its grip. Jax scrambled to his feet, but more vines surged forth, blocking their escape to the trees.
The Necromancer closed in, her silver hair catching the light. "You're a stubborn one, Thorne. My master appreciates that. Hand over the Construct, and I may let your friend live."
Jax's heart raced. The Construct buzzed, but its energy was too low for a Flame Pulse, and he was hesitant to trust Divine after their last encounter. "Energy reserves: 15%. Limited options available."
"Pass," Jax replied, his voice wavering yet resolute. He positioned himself in front of Jane, knife drawn. "You want it? Come and take it."
"Jax, don't be reckless!" Jane urged, gripping his shoulder. "We can't fight her."
The Necromancer tilted her head, her smile widening. "Bravery, yet foolishness." She raised her staff, and the vines snaked tighter, forming a cage around them. "This is your last chance."
Jax's mind raced. The Construct was silent, no emergency protocol active this time. He needed something—anything. The journal's words flickered in his mind: "The host's blood ties to the sisters." That Divine shield had to come from somewhere. Maybe he could summon it again.
"Jane, buy me a moment," he whispered, closing his eyes.
Without hesitation, she hurled a smoke bomb. Gray fog billowed, concealing them from the Necromancer's gaze. "Whatever you're plotting, make it quick!" she shouted, firing her gauntlet blindly to keep the vines at bay.
Jax concentrated, reaching for the warmth he'd felt within the ruins. Please, he called in his mind. If I'm marked, reveal yourself. The Construct hummed softly, but a gentler voice answered—an echo of the ancient woman's voice. "Trust your blood, child."
His chest ignited, gold light spilling from his hands. A Divine shield sprang up, repelling the vines. The Necromancer's eyes narrowed, her staff intensifying in glow. "Interesting," she remarked, stepping through the smoke. "You're more than a scavenger."
The shield flickered, and Jax felt his energy waning fast. "Reserves: 10%." He gritted his teeth, holding it steady. "Now, Jane!"
Jane tossed another device—a flash grenade. It exploded in a burst of blinding white light, momentarily stunning the Necromancer. She staggered, cursing, and the vines loosened. Jax dropped the shield and grabbed Jane's hand. They raced for the trees, diving into the shadows.
They collapsed behind a gnarled trunk, panting. The Necromancer's furious shouts echoed, but the trees concealed them—for now.
"That was too close," Jane gasped, rifling through her pack. "I'm running low on gadgets. You alright?"
"Barely," Jax replied, his vision blurring. The Divine shield had protected them, but it left him disoriented, blood trickling from his nose again. "This power's going to kill me before she does."
Jane's expression softened. "You're doing great. That shield was impressive." She lightly punched his arm. "Just give me a heads up next time you glow like that."
He chuckled despite the ache. "Deal." Pulling the journal from his pocket, its pages warm to the touch, he announced, "We need to keep moving. The shrine holds our best chance for answers."
Jane nodded, but her gaze darted to the plain. "She won't stop. And that airship's still lurking."
Jax's stomach dropped. The Necromancer's master—whoever it was—knew too much about him. The Construct, the shrine, his blood; it was all intertwined, and he was ensnared.
They ventured deeper into the trees, the ground uneven and slick with moss. The air thickened, the scent of decay intensifying. The Northern Wastes were close, a river glinting between the branches. Jax could feel a tiny surge in energy—"Reserves: 12%"—but it was insufficient for another confrontation.
Jane halted, her scanner beeping. "Wait. There's something up ahead. Not moving."
Jax peered through the trees. A small camp lay beside the river—tents, a smoldering fire, and a single figure bent over a map. No cloak, no runes. A Freefolk scout, perhaps, but something felt amiss.
"Friend or foe?" Jax asked in a whisper.
Jane frowned, her expression cautious. "Can't tell. But we need water, and they might know a safe route to the Wastes."
Jax hesitated. The Construct was silent, giving no warnings, but his instincts were uneasy. Still, they couldn't keep running blind. "Alright. But we need to be cautious."
With hands raised to show they meant no harm, they approached. The figure looked up— a young man, maybe twenty, with a scarred face and weary eyes. His patched clothes marked him as Freefolk, but a strange skull-shaped pendant hung around his neck.
"You lost?" the man inquired, his voice rough yet neutral. He rose, a hand resting on a dagger at his belt.
"Just passing through," Jane replied, her voice casual but her gauntlet ready. "On our way to the Wastes. Know a safer path?"
The man's gaze shifted to Jax, lingering on his bloodied nose. "Wastes? Dangerous territory. They're owned by Necromancers." He paused, casting a glance at the pendant. "But I know a route. For a price."
Jax's skin prickled. The pendant glowed faintly, reminiscent of the Necromancer's runes. "What kind of price?" he asked, edging closer to Jane.
The man smiled, too wide. "Information. Heard about a kid with peculiar magic. Burned some undead. You know him?"
Jane's fingers twitched toward her gauntlet. Jax's heart raced. This was no scout. He was a spy.
Before Jax could respond, the pendant glared red, and the man lunged, dagger glinting. Jax dove, tackling Jane to safety. The blade scraped his arm, drawing blood. The Construct buzzed, but exhaustion dulled his senses.
"Reserves: 11%. No skills available."
Jane fired her gauntlet, stunning the man. He staggered back, but the pendant glimmered, shadows coiling around him, forming claws. "You're him," he hissed. "The master will reward me!"
The sound of the airship grew louder, its shadow sweeping over the camp. The silver-haired Necromancer's voice pierced the air, cold and commanding. "Bring him to me!"
Jax scrambled to his feet, Jane at his side. The man lunged again, claws swiping, but Jax raised his hands in desperation, the woman's whisper echoing in his mind: "Blood is the key."
A surge of gold light erupted, and a spectral woman materialized beside him, her face serene and golden eyes fixed firmly ahead. One of the sisters.
"Run, marked one," she urged, her voice resonating. "The shrine awaits."
The man froze, claws dissipating. The airship roared, and the Necromancer's anguished scream rang out like thunder. Jax and Jane sprinted towards the river, the sister's glow guiding their escape.
As they raced away, her voice lingered, echoing through Jax's mind: "Beware the traitor within."