Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

The frustrating, clue-less day left them with only one solid theory. Standing by their vehicle as dusk painted the grim village in shades of deep blue and purple, Nero voiced it.

”It has to be a ghost-type entity. A specter, a phantom. Something incorporeal.” He ran a hand through his hair. ”Explains the lack of tracks. It doesn’t walk. It floats. Explains why it doesn’t scare the animals—they might not even see it. And it could just... pass through a man and take his soul, or pull him into some other plane, leaving nothing behind.”

Khione gave a slow, cold nod. ”Corporeal laws are ineffective. Fire and ice would pass through it. My magic would be useless.” She glanced at Nero. ”Your Lightning has a purifying aspect. It is our best tool.”

Elreth sighed, a flicker of her fire-law frustration showing. ”If only Lux were here. Light law is the bane of such creatures. But we must work with what we have.” She looked back at the dark, silent village. ”The chief says the attacks always happen late at night, deep in the small hours. If we leave, it will strike again. We should stay.”

The decision was made. They wouldn’t return to Oxglen. They would spend the night in Oakhaven, acting as bait and guardians.

They drove the vehicle to the very center of the village, making it a visible base. Using ingredients from their spatial storage rings—a standard provision for field missions—they prepared a simple meal. Nero had packets of dried meat and hardtack. Khione had preserved fruit and nuts. Elreth, predictably, had a small stash of fine spices and even a packet of real tea leaves.

Working together in a wordless, practical truce, they built a small, contained fire and used a portable pot to make a stew. It was bland but hot and filling. Elreth tried to lighten the mood, commenting on the ”rustic charm” of campfire cooking. Nero and Khione simply continued eating in silence, focused on the coming watch. Elreth chuckled softly to herself, not offended, and sipped her surprisingly good tea.

As full night fell, the village became a pool of ink. The few remaining lanterns in windows were quickly shuttered. The fear was a physical thing in the air, thick and cold. The trio took up positions around their vehicle, not hiding, but making themselves visible. They were a challenge.

The hours crawled by. The forest was unnervingly loud with normal sounds—owls, crickets, the rustle of nocturnal creatures. That was the worst part. The monster wasn’t disrupting the natural order. It was a part of it.

Nero’s muscles ached from tension. Khione stood so still she seemed like an ice sculpture. Elreth paced a slow, careful circle, her senses tuned for any shift in heat.

But nothing happened.

The ghost did not come. It was as if it knew. As if it could sense the concentration of power waiting for it, the crackling potential of Lightning that could hurt it. It was intelligent. Patient. It would not attack while they were on guard.

Frustration began to gnaw at them again. Had they scared it off for good? Or was it just waiting for them to leave, to drop their guard?

Just as the deepest part of the night began to lift, giving way to the first grey hint of false dawn, Khione’s head snapped to the left. Her eyes, sharper than any in the dark, had caught a flicker of movement at the far northern tree line, where the path to the high meadows began.

Not a shape. A distortion. A patch of darkness that was deeper than the rest, that seemed to swallow the starlight. It flitted between two pine trees, silent as a shadow.

”There,” she breathed.

All three were instantly alert. The distortion was moving away from the village, up the mountain path.

”It’s leaving,” Nero hissed. ”It knows we’re here. After it!”

They didn’t shout. They just ran. Abandoning the vehicle, they sprinted across the village clearing and into the forest. Nero took the lead, Lightning crackling around his legs, giving him bursts of speed. Khione was a pale blur beside him. Elreth brought up the rear, her spear in hand, a small flame igniting at its tip to light their way.

The chase was insane. They weren’t following tracks. They were following a feeling—a wave of unnatural cold, a prickling of dread, and the occasional glimpse of that light-swallowing distortion darting ahead, always staying just at the edge of vision.

It led them up, away from the village, into steeper, rockier terrain. The trees thinned. They were chasing a shadow up a mountain in the near-dark.

”It’s leading us somewhere!” Elreth called out between breaths.

Nero knew it, but he didn’t stop. This was their only chance. He gathered Lightning in his free hand, the energy sparking and snapping.

Finally, they burst into a small, rocky clearing under a cliff face. The distortion hovered in the very center, no longer fleeing. It seemed to pulse, a blot of absolute night against the grey pre-dawn sky.

It had chosen its ground.

”Now!” Nero yelled.

He skidded to a halt, planted his feet, and thrust both hands forward. He didn’t aim for the center. He aimed to cage it.

”Lightning Net!”

A web of brilliant, sizzling golden electricity erupted from his palms, spreading out to fill the clearing. It wasn’t one bolt; it was a grid of pure, crackling energy. The ghostly distortion shrieked—a sound that wasn’t a sound, but a vibration that hurt their teeth and bones. It tried to dart away, but the lightning net was everywhere. Where the energy touched it, the distortion sizzled and smoked, its form flickering, becoming less substantial.

It was working. Lightning could hurt it. But it wasn’t enough to destroy it. The creature writhed within the net, weakened but not finished. The chase had brought them to its lair, but the fight was only just beginning. It was their first time facing something like this, it was marvel.