The night in the forest was quiet, yet heavy. After the grim tidings of the Dark Emperor, the group had taken shelter in a small cave. The fire flickered, casting shifting shadows on their faces. But despite its warmth, a strange chill lingered among them; a growing root of mistrust.
The Silent Sorceress studied ancient markings etched into a stone shard. The Exiled Warrior sharpened his blade with slow, deliberate strokes. The Runaway Prince sat apart, unease glimmering in his eyes. Arin saw it all, yet could not understand why unease gnawed at his heart.
At midnight, a rustle stirred outside the cave. Weapons drawn, they rushed out—only to find emptiness. But in the damp earth, fresh footprints remained… and they began inside the cave.
The Exiled Warrior growled:
"Someone has betrayed us."
Eyes turned sharply on one another, suspicion like fire in the air. The Runaway Prince bit his lip, silent beneath their accusing stares. The Silent Sorceress lowered her gaze, her face unreadable.
Arin's heartbeat thundered. Had someone among them whispered to the enemy? Had this journey been cursed with treachery from the start?
No answer came. Only silence, heavier than any blade.
That night, for the first time, the enemy they feared was not beyond the trees… but within their own circle.