The Forgotten Eidolon

Jan's breath came steady but sharp, his muscles taut as he scanned the cavern. The masked figure had vanished, but the unease it left behind settled into his bones. They weren't gone. Just waiting.

A whisper of movement—subtle, deliberate. Jan barely twisted in time, narrowly avoiding the tendrils of shifting darkness that lashed toward him. The air where he had stood moments ago rippled unnaturally, as if reality itself had flinched.

A test? A warning? Or something far worse?

He didn't have time to ponder. Another flicker—this time from the opposite direction. Jan spun, raising his stolen dagger just as something cold brushed past his neck. Not a weapon. A presence.

"Good," the voice murmured, distant yet close, like an echo traveling from another world. "You're aware. But awareness is not enough."

Jan didn't respond. Talk was a weapon, and he wouldn't let them wield it against him.

A low chuckle resonated from the shadows. "Smart. I like that."

Then the ground shifted beneath him.

No—not the ground. The shadows. They coiled upward, dragging the darkness itself into a spiral that formed into something tangible. A hand. Then an arm. Then a figure emerging from the abyss like a specter stepping into reality.

This time, they weren't across the room. They were inches from him.

Jan moved on instinct, slashing upward with his dagger. The blade sliced cleanly—through nothing. The figure dissipated, its form unraveling like mist.

Then something solid slammed into his ribs.

He staggered back, gasping, vision flashing white from the impact. His grip tightened around the dagger. He couldn't see them, couldn't track them—

They're toying with me.

Another blow—this time from behind. He rolled forward, barely avoiding the follow-up strike. His mind raced. This wasn't an ordinary enemy. This wasn't brute force or precision swordplay.

This was control. This was manipulation of the unseen.

Jan forced himself to breathe. They aren't untouchable. They're testing me. Which means there's a pattern. A flaw.

He stayed low, deliberately slowing his breathing. Letting them think he was struggling.

The shadows shifted. A ripple. A flicker. There—

He moved before his thoughts finished forming, driving his dagger forward with calculated precision. A solid impact met his blade. A sharp inhale.

Then silence.

Jan's eyes locked onto the masked figure. A gloved hand pressed against their side where the dagger had struck—not deeply, but enough to break the illusion of invincibility.

Then, to his surprise, they laughed.

"You intrigue me, stranger. Enough that I'll leave you with a gift."

They tossed him a small obsidian token. "When the time comes, you will use it."

Then, like smoke in the wind, they were gone.

Jan remained motionless, fingers tightening around the token. A warning. An invitation. Or a trap?

Either way, he knew one thing.

This was only the beginning.