Chapter 45: HUNTERS AND HUNTED
Prince Tarrant’s forces surged through the forest like a plague of armored locusts, their torches carving violent gashes of light through the darkness. Reed felt their approach through the merged fragment embedded in his palm—each rider a distinct pulse of malice against his newly awakened senses.
"We’re outnumbered," Kalia hissed, the moonlight reflecting off her elven features as she notched an arrow to her bowstring. "Fighting is suicide."
Reed nodded, his mind racing through possibilities that wouldn’t have occurred to him before the fragments merged. The violet crystal pulsated against his skin, suggesting strategies and avenues of power previously unimaginable.
"We don’t fight," he decided, the fragment’s energy coursing through his veins. "We disappear."
Reaching out with his consciousness, Reed touched the essence of the surrounding shadows, feeling their substance and weight in ways he never could before. The Warden aspect of his merged fragment had always allowed him to manipulate darkness, but the integration of Sovereign’s power amplified this ability beyond recognition.
"Everyone, to me," he commanded, extending his hand toward Shia. The connection between them vibrated with potential energy as their fingers touched.
Vex and Kalia joined the circle hesitantly, hands clasping as Reed reached out with his power. The shadows around them responded, not merely gathering but transforming—becoming thicker, more substantial, until they clung to the group like a second skin.
"What is this?" Vex whispered, her scarred face contorting with discomfort as darkness crept across her skin.
"Camouflage," Reed replied, his voice distorted by the power flowing through him. "The hunters cannot pursue what they cannot perceive."
The transformation completed just as the first of Tarrant’s outriders burst into their clearing. The soldiers paused, torches held high, scanning what appeared to be an abandoned campsite. Reed and his companions stood perfectly still, wrapped in a cocoon of manipulated shadow that bent light around them, rendering them not invisible but overlooked—present yet dismissed by the mind’s eye.
Through the veil of shadow, Reed observed their hunters. Prince Tarrant sat astride a midnight destrier whose nostrils flared red with each breath. The golden Monarch fragment gleamed from within his breastplate, pulsing like a second heartbeat. Beside him rode three figures, each radiating the distinctive energy signature of fragment bearers.