The night wind howled over the cliffs as Coris stood alone beneath the blood-red moon. The ruined outpost behind her cast long shadows, jagged like broken teeth.
Her attack and plan was a failure. She had played it up with a faulty gamble. Now she was it was getting late to correct it. She glanced at the half burning Ghost Village. She was not to far from it.
Her cloak whipped behind her, her fingers twitching near her belt. She felt it, something dark had entered this realm. And it was looking for her.
The wind shifted. A ripple tore through the air like a scream, and then it was there—a tall, cloaked demon with horns that twisted like black lightning. Its skin was cracked obsidian, pulsing with infernal light, and its presence distorted the very air around it.
"Coris Bendly," the demon spoke, voice like grinding stone. "The Shingan sends his regards."
Coris narrowed her eyes, her hand already clutching the hilt of her dagger. "He sent you to kill me. That coward."
