Page 11 of Sweaty Nights & Gator Bites

A few seconds later, we found ourselves in a small clearing. The trees formed a natural canopy overhead, filtering the moonlight into a dappled pattern on the ground. In the center of the clearing, half-submerged in the mud, was an old stone altar. It was covered in moss and adorned with symbols I couldn't quite make out.

Phi knelt beside the altar, brushing away the grime with a careful hand. “Look at this,” she said, her voice tinged with excitement. “It’s hard to see these symbols clearly but they have to mean something.”

Kota joined us, her eyes widening at the sight. "What is it?"

Lucas sniffed the air and his claws came out. “There’s ancient magic here. It’s as old as the swamp.”

“This is definitely an ancient relic,” Phi agreed. “It mighthave been an altar used in long-forgotten rituals. There’s magic radiating from it.”

Curiosity piqued, I leaned in closer. “What kind of rituals, do you think?”

Phi lifted a shoulder. “We could do a reveal spell.”

Dre nodded and extended her hand. I placed mine on hers and Lia’s landed on both of ours. Kota, Dea, and Phi followed suit. We closed our eyes with our hands hovering over the altar and began to chant softly. My eyes flew open when it felt like I was being stung.

A faint glow emanated from the stone and the air around us hummed with energy. “It's connected to the local shifter tribes,” Lucas murmured. “I think they used this site to hold ceremonies to honor and communicate with the swamp gods.”

That didn’t sound like it would help us. “Okay. This isn't just some random relic. It's part of their history and culture. It doesn’t look like they’ve used it in over a century, though.”

“That’s the problem,” Phi confirmed. “The shifters were more than just creatures of the swamp. They revered the land and integrated it into their lives. Why stop using a focal point for their community?”

Kota knelt beside the altar, examining the symbols closely. “What if they stopped using it more recently? You know how the swamps take over. It happens in mere hours. What if someone exploited this bond for their gain?”

“Don’t assume one way or another," Adèle said into our heads. “It’s something to consider. Bouvier and his actions could have made them withdraw deeper into their territory. Or it could have made them lash out. Not being there in person, it’s hard to say. But I think there’s more to it than you are seeing.”

I nodded as my gut twisted into a knot. “We have to protect this place and its history. If the shifters are being manipulated, we can’t allow it to continue.”

Phi began to photograph and document the symbols and our surroundings. “I'll need some time to fully decipher these. You can help with that Adèle. But this could provide use crucial information.”

“I can try asking the spirits why this was abandoned,” Dea offered.

We were all nodding the second the offer was out of her mouth. She laughed and shook her head at us before focusing on her powers. Whenever she tapped into her ability to talk to ghosts, it made the hair on my arms stand on end. She took a deep breath and her hands began moving gracefully as she muttered under her breath.

The air around her shimmered with ethereal energy. It was different from what usually happened. Something was off. The usual ease with which she summoned the spirits was absent. Instead, there seemed to be an oppressive force that pushed back against her efforts.

“Come on, Dea,” I whispered under my breath, willing her to get through to the spirits.

Minutes passed, and Dea's struggle intensified. A few seconds later, dark energy swirled around her. Lucas and Noah positioned themselves between us and the altar. Dea waved them off and stepped around them.

“She’s connected with a spirit of the swamp,” Adèle informed us. “It feels protective to me. Although it’s flickering like a candle in the wind.”

"Darkness... betrayal... desecration..." the spirit intoned, its words fragmented and disjointed. "The relic... the balance... disrupted..." The spirit's voice was a mere whisper that was barely audible over the cacophony of the swamp.

Dea's brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to piece together the spirit's message. “What do you mean? What has caused this disturbance?” she asked, her voice filled with urgency.

The spirit's form wavered, its energy fluctuating as it struggled to convey its message. “The relic... corrupted... by those who seek power... They have defiled the sacred sites... twisted the energies of the swamp...”

If I understood correctly, Lucas was right about the magic of the relic being ancient. It was a focal point for the swamp's spiritual energies. And its desecration had thrown the entire area into turmoil, affecting both the natural and supernatural realms.

Dea's connection to the spirit began to falter, the dark energy threatening to sever their link. “We want to find out who killed one of the swamp’s inhabitants and restore the balance. Can you help us?” she implored.

The spirit's final words were barely a whisper. “Seek the wisdom... of the elements... Forge new alliances... Restore the sacred sites... Only then... balance... restored...”

With that, the spirit faded into the ether, leaving us with more questions than answers. Dea collapsed to her knees. She was exhausted and shaken by the encounter. I rushed to her side, offering support as she regained her composure.

"Dea, are you okay?" I asked, my voice laced with concern.

She nodded weakly, her eyes filled with determination. “I'm okay. But we have a lot of work to do. Some serious shit went down here and it's up to us to set things right.”

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