shadows of the lost city (6)

Their attacks grew more frequent, small slashes in the night, quick assaults meant to wear them down. Elena was the first to name them. “Wraiths,” she whispered. “They’re like shadows, but alive, hunting us.” By the fifth day, their food was running low, and exhaustion weighed heavily on the group.

Marcus had grown increasingly paranoid, jumping at every sound, his hands always clutching a rock hammer he had started carrying like a weapon.

Grace had become quiet, her eyes scanning every shadow, her fingers tracing the strange symbols on a stone tablet she had uncovered the day before. The symbols hinted at something more than just a city—something dark, a warning perhaps, but it was incomplete.