The forest was not the same when the sun set.
What once seemed alive with music and light now lay smothered in shadows. The trees, tall and ancient, groaned as if they carried the weight of untold secrets.
Elara held the lantern close, its flame trembling against the night air. Beside her, Kael's blade gleamed faintly. He walked with his eyes sharp, every sense alert.
"Do you hear it?" Elara whispered.
Kael paused. At first, there was nothing but the hush of the wind. Then it came—low murmurs, voices like echoes carried on water. They weren't human. They weren't natural.
"The forest remembers," Kael muttered, tightening his grip. "And it wants us gone."
The ground shifted under their boots. Roots slithered, twisting like serpents, dragging across the soil as though alive. Elara stumbled, nearly dropping the lantern, but Kael pulled her upright.
"Stay close," he said.
The whispers grew louder, overlapping chants that clawed at their minds. Elara covered her ears but the voices were inside her head, burrowing deep, urging her to turn back, to surrender.
Her knees buckled. She felt her breath falter. What if they're right? What if we're not meant to be here?
"Elara!" Kael's voice cut through the fog. He pressed his forehead to hers. His voice dropped, steady, unyielding. "They can't touch you unless you let them."
She clutched his hand, grounding herself. Slowly, the haze lifted. The whispers dimmed into a soft hum, retreating deeper into the forest.
But they weren't alone. From the corner of her eye, Elara saw them—shapes in the mist, thin and crooked, with eyes that gleamed like embers. Watching. Waiting.
Kael raised his sword.
Elara lifted her lantern.
And together, they stepped forward.
Chapter Ten Ends