The path through the forest seemed endless. Ancient trees stood like dark pillars, and the distant sound of owls and small nocturnal animals filled the silence that dragged between footsteps and breathing. But when the glow of torches began to flicker in the distance, shattering the darkness with small embers of light, Kael and Exelia finally spotted the makeshift camp the witches had erected.
It wasn't large, nor elaborate—just a few circular tents of heavy fabric, held together by enchanted stakes that warded off wind and moisture. Runes etched into the ground glowed a soft red, forming barriers against intruders. The smell of herbs burning in the central fire filled the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the damp forest.
