05. The wedding of Mateo and Julieta

The campfire had burned low, casting flickering shadows against the trees. The night air was thick with silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of embers. But then—a stirring. Wisps of spectral energy curled into existence, twisting through the camp like mournful ghosts in search of the living.   Lia and Cre, oblivious to the disturbance, slept soundly, their breaths steady and undisturbed. The others were not so lucky.   Talon’s breath hitched as the realization struck him—a cold, brilliant certainty slicing through his fear. The graves. The ones they had seen earlier. These spirits were tied to them somehow. But before he could act, Gwen and Lark were forced into battle, the apparitions pressing against them with unnatural force, their hollow gazes burning with ancient intent.   Steel clashed with incorporeal resistance. Blades cut through air, meeting chilling resistance that sent reverberations up their arms. And then—Cas and Lark faltered. Eyes widened in terror as something unseen pressed into them, burrowing deep. Their bodies stiffened, movements no longer entirely their own.   Possession.   A battle of will raged silently within Lark, his mind straining against the foreign presence. And then, an agreement—a strange, unsettling bargain. He offered the specter passage into Gwen instead, promising to wed them both. The spirit relented.   In a surreal exchange, the possession shifted, the wedding executed with whispered vows under the watching eyes of the dead. And with that, the spirits sighed into nothingness, released from their torment. Cas and Gwen stood unscathed, yet their skin prickled with lingering unease.   Just as the group dared to settle again, exhaustion pulling at their limbs, Thranmire's breath came sharp. A screech tore through the quiet, followed by the snap of beating wings. Harpies. Three of them, descending like death upon him.   The group barely had time to react before the battle was upon them again. Claws lashed, shrieks split the night, and blood spattered against the dirt. It was a desperate, brutal fight, but in the end, they stood victorious, panting and bloodied, the silence returning at last.   This time, when they lay down to rest, none dared assume peace would last.