POV: Ariya 🌲🔥🌫️
The trees weren't right.
Too tall. Too silent. Their branches didn't sway with the wind — they watched. Each leaf shimmered faintly like polished obsidian, and the deeper the group walked into the forest, the thicker the air became. It was like the woods had swallowed sound and light whole.
"I officially hate this place," Jax whispered, twirling a dagger between his fingers. "It smells like old people and secrets."
Lyra ignored him and scanned the treetops, her bow slung over one shoulder. "This forest wasn't on the map."
"It's not supposed to be," Ariya murmured. "I think that's the point."
Her fingers brushed the mark on her arm — now partially hidden under her sleeve. It pulsed dully beneath her skin, not painful but not quiet either.
What she didn't tell them was that she was still bleeding beneath her bandages.
The Emberfall trial had taken more than it gave.
Kael walked beside her, silent as ever.
But he noticed.
His eyes kept flicking to the way she favored her left leg. The way she flinched ever so slightly when stepping on uneven ground. The way her breaths came just a little too short.
"You're limping again," he said finally, quietly.
"I'm fine," she lied, forcing a half-smile.
Kael didn't push, but his expression hardened. She knew that look. It wasn't anger. It was fear disguised as stillness.
She didn't have time to soothe it. They needed to move fast — they were still being watched.
The trees shifted again. No breeze. No birdsong. Just the subtle rustle of something else moving when they weren't.
"Did anyone else hear that?" Lyra asked.
"Define that," Jax replied. "Because I'm hearing at least five imaginary monsters and one emotional breakdown from Kael."
Kael shot him a look.
Then the wind shifted — and they heard it.
Laughter.
Childlike, echoing, hollow.
"Okay, that's not creepy at all," Jax muttered, raising a glowing illusion orb.
Shapes moved between the trees. Flickers. Shadows. Some were small, some tall — none solid. Ariya's blood turned to ice.
"Don't talk to them," she whispered. "Don't even look at them."
"Them?" Lyra said. "What are they?"
"Echoes," Ariya said. "This forest... it remembers everyone who's passed through. Everyone who died here. If you give them a name, they get stronger."
Jax slowly lowered his illusion. "Right. So... no introductions, then."
The path narrowed ahead, roots tangled like grasping hands. As they ducked through the low-hanging branches, Ariya's vision wavered — and the pain in her side sharpened.
She stumbled.
Kael caught her instantly.
"You're not fine," he snapped.
"I just need to keep moving," she said through gritted teeth.
"Not like this."
But before he could argue more, the trees parted — and the group stepped into a clearing bathed in eerie green light.
At its center stood a lone stone monolith. Glowing symbols spiraled across it.
Ariya's mark flared.
"What is that?" Lyra asked.
"A seal," Ariya whispered. "It's... calling me."
She stepped forward, brushing her fingers against the stone.
The runes pulsed.
And a voice spoke — no louder than a thought.
"One path lies broken. One heart lies burning."
Her knees buckled.
Kael rushed to her again, holding her steady. "Ariya!"
She looked up at him, sweat clinging to her brow.
"Something's wrong with me," she admitted, finally.
And far away, deep in the mountains, a mirror flared in Ruvan's chamber.
He saw her falter.
And smiled.