Back to Present
The forest was alive with a strange energy and thick with magic. Every breath felt electric, like the trees themselves were holding their breath, watching as Zaire, Sylen, and Dusken crept deeper into the shadows. No one said a word. Every step was careful, but you could feel the tension crackling between them.
They were close now. They could feel the pull of something dark, the threads of fate leading them forward, unwinding, revealing the truth piece by piece.
Zaire's hand tightened around the hilt of his blade, eyes darting through the tangled branches ahead. Sylen walked on his right, silent except for the sly smirk playing at his lips, a dead giveaway that he felt the same thing Zaire did. They were closing in on whatever they'd been chasing all this time.
"Feel that?" Sylen finally broke the silence, his eyes flashing with excitement. "It's like the woods are alive, just… watching us."
Dusken, leading the way, didn't bother to answer. But you could see the change in him, shoulders squared, senses on high alert. The magic in the air was so strong it almost made him sick, but he couldn't help being drawn to it, too.
Zaire gave a grim nod. "It's close. Whoever's behind this is playing with fire."
For days, they'd been chasing strange magical ripples, running in circles, only to realize every clue had been planted on purpose. Someone wanted them here, right in the thick of it.
The deeper they went, the darker the forest grew, until suddenly the trees parted and they stumbled into a clearing. Right in the centre stood an ancient stone circle, battered by centuries but still pulsing with an eerie and unnatural glow.
"That's it," Zaire whispered, voice barely more than a breath but rock-solid with certainty. "That's where it's coming from."
Sylen stepped forward, the cocky grin gone, replaced by a look of pure focus. "This place… I've been here before. I never thought I'd come back, at least not like this."
Dusken's jaw clenched. "Should've stayed away."
Zaire's eyes narrowed. "We all should have, but it's too late for that now."
They stopped at the edge of the circle, eyes tracing the ancient runes carved into the stone. The magic here was almost alive, humming beneath the surface, which looked old, powerful, and twisted by something dark.
And then, all at once, it hit them.
"It's them," Zaire breathed, the words heavy with realization.
Sylen's eyes narrowed. "The Order of the Veil." He spat the name like it tasted rotten. "The same ones who tried to control everything… twist it all to their will."
Not many people even knew the Order existed. They were a secret society, their roots buried deep in forgotten history. Nobody really knew what they wanted, but rumors said they were obsessed with unlocking the world's most dangerous magics, those things no sane person would ever touch. To them, the "Veil" was this invisible wall between the ordinary world and a hidden realm of power, and they were hell-bent on tearing it down.
Dusken's fists clenched. "They've been pulling the strings for way too long. And now they're after Esme."
The realization hit like a bolt of lightning. Every weird event, every magical ripple, it all led back to the Order. They hadn't vanished forever. They'd just been waiting for the right moment.
Zaire's mouth twisted into a grim smile. "They screwed up." Sylen shot him a look, his smirk returning, but now it was sharp as a blade.
"A big one."
Dusken growled, low and dangerous. "We're not letting them get away this time."
Zaire stepped forward, his voice cold and commanding. "We set a trap and lure them in. And make them realize who they're messing with."
Sylen raised an eyebrow. "A trap? Haven't we tried that before?"
Zaire's eyes glinted with something fierce. "This time's different. We're not just baiting them. We're going to make them wish they'd never set foot in this world."
Dusken cocked his head. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"
Zaire's grin was feral, cold, and full of promise. "By letting them walk right into it."
* * *
Hours slipped by, and the sun finally dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in bruised purples and gold. The three of them stood at the forest's edge, hearts pounding. The trap was ready.
They'd spent hours prepping the clearing, every move loaded with tension. The ancient stone circle looked even creepier now, like something out of a nightmare, which looked twisted, dark, and just waiting to explode with power.
"We're not just drawing them in," Zaire said, his voice steady but heavy with the weight of what they were about to do. "We're making sure they know exactly what happens when you cross us."
Sylen let out a dark chuckle. "Oh, they'll learn. If they don't, well… it'll be the last mistake they ever make."
Dusken stood perfectly still, eyes glowing faintly as he focused. "We've covered every angle. There's no way out for them."
Zaire glanced at the stone circle one last time. "It's time. They'll be here soon. And when they show up…"
He let the words hang in the air, his smile growing colder. "We'll show them who's really in control."
For a moment, the three of them just stood there, barely visible in the fading light, the trap's power humming under their feet. They were ready. When the Order of the Veil finally made their move, Zaire, Sylen, and Dusken would meet them head-on.
But not before sending a message. One that would echo for a long time.
* * *