Morning light filtered into the city’s Adventurers’ Guild Hall, casting long streaks across the polished floors. Amara, Calen, and Drevan stepped inside, still relaxed from their carefree interlude the night before. The lively chatter of mercenaries and quest-givers swirled around them, echoing off high rafters.

A tall clerk with a quill behind his ear greeted them, flipping through a stack of job notices. “Ah, the fox-blond wizard, healing elf, and tiefling paladin,” he said, a slight smirk touching his lips. “Impressive feats on record. If you’re looking for work, there’s a job that might suit your… diverse talents.”

Drevan folded his arms. “We’re listening.”

The clerk handed over a parchment stamped with an official seal. “There’s a merchant caravan that’s gone missing on the southern roads—likely bandits. Recover stolen goods, confirm any survivors, and the pay is decent. Interested?”

Calen raised a brow at Amara, who shrugged with a confident grin. They’d tackled worse. “Sounds straightforward enough,” she said.

With that, they left the hall, forging southward through rolling hills and sparse farmland. The roads were dappled with morning sun, the chatter between them light—Calen rambling about a new healing spell he wanted to try, Amara teasing Drevan about his stern guard routine, and Drevan countering with just enough dry humor to make her grin. It felt good. Too good, as it turned out.

They found the caravan’s remains near a bend in the road—a handful of overturned wagons, crates smashed open, and broken arrows littering the ground. The horses were gone, tether ropes cut. No sign of survivors.

“Keep your guard up,” Drevan warned, drawing his longsword and scanning the tree line.

Suddenly, the air filled with a chorus of hissing arrows. Calen yelped and dove behind the splintered remains of a cart. Drevan snapped his shield into place, deflecting a volley of shots. Amara’s heart hammered in her chest. An ambush.

From the edge of the woods, bandits emerged—faces covered, weapons drawn. One bellowed, “Leave the loot and walk away, or we’ll make sure you join these corpses!”

Amara felt her adrenaline spike. “Not likely,” she muttered, raising her hands. Purple sparks danced across her fingertips, that familiar hum of eldritch power stirring in her veins.

Calen tried to weave a shielding spell around them all, but the bandits kept pressing. Several rushed Drevan, steel flashing in the sunlight. The tiefling swung his blade in swift arcs, knocking them back, but the sheer numbers threatened to overwhelm him.

Amara fired off a crackling bolt of dark energy. It struck two bandits, sending them tumbling. Calen’s magic shield faltered as another arrow struck near his foot, forcing him to dart aside.

The chaos of battle surged. One bandit feinted toward Drevan, forcing him to turn—and another lunged at Amara’s exposed side. Instinct flared. In a moment of blind panic, she unleashed a torrent of eldritch magic, more intense than she’d ever dared before.

Her power spiraled out of control.

A swirling mass of darkness erupted from her outstretched hands, laced with violet lightning. It slammed into the bandit and burst outward in a shockwave. With a deafening crack, chunks of earth tore from the ground. The bandit was gone—disintegrated. Nearby wagons shattered, and a tree cracked in two, toppling with a thunderous crash.

Calen’s shield blinked out entirely, and Drevan stumbled from the force. In the aftermath, the remaining bandits fled, terrified by the raw devastation.

Panting, Amara realized what she’d done—scorch marks marred the earth, and a bitter scent of ozone lingered in the air. Calen and Drevan stared.

Calen’s wide purple eyes flicked from the ruined cart to the ashen remains of the bandit. He swallowed, stepping over the scattered debris. “Amara…” he began, voice strained with shock, but underpinned by concern.

Drevan said nothing at first. His stance was rigid, sword still clutched in his hand, shield hanging at his side. He fixed his gaze on the trail of destruction carved into the earth.

“I—I’m sorry,” Amara stammered, swallowing back a wave of nausea. “I didn’t mean to— I just panicked.”

Calen reached out, gently touching her arm. “Are you hurt? Did it… affect you?”

She flinched from the contact, tears pricking her eyes. “No. But you both could’ve been— I could’ve killed everyone. I can’t control it.”

A muscle in Drevan’s jaw twitched. He sheathed his weapon with a metallic scrape, then turned his back, scanning for any remaining threats. “We should… move on,” he said tersely, voice cold.

Amara knew that tone. A wary distance. She met Calen’s worried gaze and saw he was trying to form words of comfort. But she couldn’t bear to look at either of them any longer.

They finished searching the wreckage, collecting what little cargo remained. No survivors. The job was done, but the price was high—Amara’s confidence lay in ruins along with the bandit’s remains.

When they set up camp that night, Amara busied herself on the far edge, fussing with the firewood, refusing to meet their eyes. Calen tried to approach, but she brushed him off with a hollow smile. “I’m fine,” she lied.

Drevan kept glancing in her direction, his expression conflicted, as if he wanted to say something yet couldn’t. A heaviness clung to the air.

At last, Amara stood abruptly. “I need… some space,” she said, forcing her voice to stay steady. She walked away from their modest fire until the darkness swallowed her up.

She stumbled through the undergrowth, raw panic and self-loathing swirling in her chest. What if I lose control again? The image of that bandit’s final moments seared itself into her mind, along with Calen’s horrified face and Drevan’s uneasy caution. They must think I’m a monster.

She found a rocky outcrop beneath the moonlight, sinking to her knees. Each ragged breath tore at her throat. Maybe I shouldn’t be with them anymore… it’s too dangerous. I’m too dangerous.

The night wind rustled the treetops, but offered no answers. Only the echo of her own doubts accompanied her under the pale moon, as she tried to decide whether she even belonged with Calen and Drevan at all.