"The air smells different here," Alan noted.
"Mineral springs in the higher valleys," Marcus explained. "The water is infused with magical elements that evaporate into the air. Breathing it for too long can cause visions in those not accustomed to it."
Alan immediately became more conscious of his breathing. "You might have mentioned that earlier."
Marcus's mouth quirked in what might have been amusement. "The effects are mild and temporary. Some find them quite enlightening."
As they rounded a bend in the path, they came upon an unexpected sight—a small structure built into the mountainside. It appeared to be a shelter of some kind, constructed of stone with a wooden door reinforced with metal bands.
"A warden's outpost," Marcus said, approaching cautiously. "It should be manned, especially during a Rift event."
He knocked on the door, but there was no response. After a moment's hesitation, he pushed it open. The interior was a single room with basic furnishings—a bed, a table with two chairs, a small hearth, and shelves stocked with supplies. Everything was neat and orderly, but there was no sign of the warden.
"Recently abandoned," Marcus observed, noting the lack of dust. "The fire pit is still warm."
Alan moved to the window, which offered a view of the path ahead. "Could they have evacuated because of the Rift?"
"Possible, but wardens are trained to maintain their posts during emergencies." Marcus examined the room more carefully. "They serve as relay points for information and assistance to travelers."
A logbook lay open on the table, the last entry dated that morning. Marcus read it with growing concern.
"The warden reported unusual activity on the higher paths—shadow movements not consistent with known Void entities." He closed the book. "Then they left to investigate."
"And haven't returned," Alan finished the thought.
They exchanged a look of mutual understanding. Something had happened to the warden, something potentially dangerous.
"We should continue while daylight remains," Marcus decided. "But with greater caution."
After a brief rest and replenishment of their water from the outpost's supply, they resumed their journey. The path beyond the outpost grew narrower and less defined, requiring careful attention to follow. The terrain became increasingly rugged, with sections where they had to scramble over loose rock or edge along narrow ledges.
The sun was past its zenith when they reached a particularly challenging section—a gap in the path where a recent rockslide had carried away the trail, leaving a six-foot span of empty space with a sheer drop below.
"We'll have to jump," Marcus said, assessing the distance.
Alan looked at the gap with trepidation. The drop was at least several hundred feet, with jagged rocks at the bottom. "Is there no alternative route?"
"None that wouldn't cost us hours of backtracking." Marcus secured his satchel more tightly. "I'll go first."
With surprising agility for his age, Marcus backed up a few steps, then took a running start and leapt across the gap, landing safely on the other side. He turned and nodded encouragingly to Alan.
"Focus on the landing point, not the drop," he advised.
Alan took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He had never considered himself acrophobic, but the alien nature of this world made the height seem somehow more threatening. Backing up as Marcus had done, he fixed his gaze on the landing spot, then ran forward and jumped.
For a moment, he was airborne, the wind rushing past his ears. Then his feet hit solid ground, and he stumbled forward, caught by Marcus's steadying hand.
"Well done," the older man said with approval.
They had just started to move away from the edge when a sound from above made them look up. A shadow passed over them—too large and too fast to be a bird. Before they could react, a dark form descended rapidly, landing on the path ahead with enough force to crack the stone.
The creature that straightened to face them was unlike the shadow entities they had encountered in Clayton. This being had substance—a humanoid form covered in what appeared to be black armor, with a featureless face save for two glowing purple eyes. It stood at least seven feet tall, radiating an aura of cold that Alan could feel from several yards away.
"Void Knight," Marcus breathed, his hand moving to his staff. "A physical manifestation—the Rift must be stronger than I feared."
The Knight regarded them silently for a moment, then spoke in a voice that seemed to bypass the air entirely, resonating directly in their minds.
"The anomaly will come with me," it said, its glowing gaze fixed on Alan.
Marcus stepped forward, his staff raised defensively. "He is under my protection."
The Knight made a gesture that might have been dismissive. "Your protection is irrelevant, exile. The Masters beyond the Void have sensed the anomaly's arrival. They wish to understand it."
Alan felt a chill that had nothing to do with the mountain air. "What 'Masters'? What do they want with me?"
The Knight's attention shifted fully to him, the purple glow of its eyes intensifying. "You are not of this reality. Your energy signature is... unique. The Masters collect uniqueness."
"How flattering," Alan muttered, mind racing for a solution. The narrow path left little room for maneuvering, and the drop behind them eliminated retreat as an option.
Marcus had begun tracing patterns in the air with his free hand, subtle movements that seemed to leave faint trails of blue light. "Alan," he said quietly, "when I give the signal, duck left."
The Knight noticed the magical preparation and moved with startling speed, closing the distance between them in a blur of motion. Marcus barely had time to complete his gesture before the armored figure was upon them, a blade of dark energy forming in its hand.
"Now!" Marcus shouted, bringing his staff down sharply.
Alan dove to the left as instructed, feeling a rush of energy pass over him. Marcus's spell manifested as a wave of force that struck the Knight, momentarily staggering it. The creature's blade slashed through empty air where Alan had been standing a second earlier.
Rolling to his feet, Alan found himself precariously close to the edge of the path. The Knight recovered quickly and turned toward him, ignoring Marcus's follow-up attack, which seemed to dissipate harmlessly against its armor.
"Physical magic has little effect," Marcus called out, frustration evident in his voice. "Its armor is attuned to standard energy patterns."
The Knight advanced on Alan, who backed away until his heel met empty air. He was trapped.