The forest was different now.
After the Fog Lake vanished, Mike moved carefully through the woods, every step echoing louder in his ears than it should have. The glowing moss beneath his feet had faded, no longer offering direction. The stillness pressed around him again—not hostile, but watching. Waiting.
He had seen something. Something powerful. And it had seen him.
Aero was silent in his arms, but her feathers were bristled and alert. Her silken black down looked almost smoky in the dim light. Every now and then she shifted, scanning the trees as if she, too, expected the cloaked figure to appear again.
Mike's thoughts churned. The whisper… the melody… Return what was taken.
He repeated the phrase over and over as he walked, as if doing so would unlock its meaning.
The trail curved through a rocky ridge, narrowing between two leaning boulders. Just beyond them, the trees thinned out, and Mike saw flickers of movement—quick, darting shapes low to the ground.
He crouched low, gently setting Aero down behind a fern.
A low growl rose from ahead.
Not an animal. Something… heavier.
Mike inched forward until he reached the edge of a small clearing. What he saw made his heart pound.
A boy—about his age, maybe a year older—stood back-to-back with a twisted tree, facing off against two lizard-like creatures. Their skin was a sickly greenish-gray, slick with mucus. Each had elongated limbs tipped with claws and dull, glowing red eyes. They hissed, circling.
The boy held a curved knife in one hand and a flaming branch in the other.
He didn't look scared.
He looked angry.
Mike didn't think. He grabbed a small throwing stone from his satchel and flung it hard, striking one of the creatures in the side of the head. It yelped and spun toward him, momentarily distracted.
The boy didn't waste the opening. He surged forward, driving the knife into the creature's neck and dragging the fire across its back. It shrieked and slithered off into the underbrush, smoldering.
The second one lunged at Mike.
Before he could move, Aero launched from the bushes—squawking wildly—and clawed at its face. It recoiled just long enough for Mike to draw his new bow and fire an arrow.
It struck the creature in the shoulder, and a crackling burst of blue light exploded from the tip on impact. The creature collapsed in a heap, twitching, before going still.
Mike stared at the bow. "Okay… that's new."
The boy stepped into view, breathing hard. His eyes were bright amber—not just reflective, but glowing faintly like embers.
"Not bad," he said, brushing black hair from his face. "I thought I was going to have to lose a hand to get out of that one."
Mike lowered his bow cautiously. "You alright?"
"Better now. You always travel around with a lightning bow and a death pigeon?"
Mike glanced at Aero, who landed beside him and fluffed her feathers proudly.
"She's an eagle," he said. "And yeah… kinda."
The boy smiled faintly. "Name's Ren."
"Mike."
They stood in silence for a moment. The tension still hummed in the air.
"You from around here?" Ren asked, studying him.
"No," Mike said. "Not even close."
Ren raised an eyebrow. "You're not the first to come through that way. But you might be the youngest."
"You've seen others?"
Ren looked down, kicking at a patch of dirt. "Not anymore."
Mike didn't ask. The weight in Ren's voice said enough.
Instead, he nodded toward the remains of the creatures. "What were those things?"
"Scavengers," Ren replied. "Corrupted by Vlad's beasts. They hunt for anything with a pulse. They don't usually come this far inland unless something's stirred them."
Mike's brow furrowed. "You mean me?"
"Or that thing following you."
Mike stiffened. "You've seen it?"
Ren pointed back toward the trees. "A shadow, walking through fog where no fog should be. I've seen it three times since I started tracking that trail. Each time, it disappears. But it's watching. Hunting."
Mike looked down at Aero, who pressed against his boot.
"You've got something it wants," Ren said.
Mike met his gaze. "Or I've taken something it needs."
Ren gave him a long look, then nodded once. "Well, whatever you're doing, you saved my skin. That means we're even."
Mike hesitated. "Or we could call it the start of something."
Ren's eyes flicked up in surprise. Then he smirked. "Like a team?"
Mike shrugged. "Like not dying alone."
"Fair."
They gathered what they could from the area—a few herbs, a half-burned torch, and a carved pendant on one of the dead creatures that pulsed weakly with a red light.
Ren tucked it into his belt. "Trophy," he said. "Or warning."
As they set off together, the forest around them grew darker, but not in color.
In intent.
Whatever was watching Mike… it knew he had an ally now.
And it would be waiting.