Vadim PoV
I looked around, surrounded by nothing but mist and dense forest. Taking a step forward, I found a man in a black and red cloak. His head was facing the pool of water, but I couldn't make out his face.
I took another cautious step, my hand dropping instinctively to the pommel of my blade. The heavy, damp air smelled faintly of pine and old stone, but there was an unsettling stillness to the trees—not a single leaf rustled, and no night creatures called out from the dark canopy above.
"Who are you?" I demanded, keeping my voice low and steady. "Where am I?"
The man didn't startle. He remained seated beside the still, glassy surface of the pool, watching the silent ripples spread across the water's face. The black and red fabric of his cloak draped over the mossy bank, the dark red lining almost gleaming like dried blood under the dim, filtered light.
