Rielun's POV
The moment they stepped beyond the grove's protective boundary, the world changed.
The air grew colder, sharp enough to sting Rielun's lungs. The trees leaned inward, their branches arching like ribs around a cage. A distant howl echoed through the daylight — too low, too long, too wrong to belong to anything natural.
Rielun froze.
A cold pressure pressed against the back of his skull, like fingers searching through fog. Not touching him… but looking for him.
Noctis's shadows bristled, rising like hackles.
Elias's breath hitched. "It knows he's awake."
The Hollow was watching.
They moved deeper into the forest, and the world shifted around them in small, unsettling ways. Stones appeared where none had been moments before. A faint silver shimmer flickered across tree bark, vanishing when they blinked.
Rielun stumbled, gripping a trunk as a flash of memory stabbed through him — moonlight on water, a hand reaching for his, a voice calling his name.
Gone.
Sylas stepped closer, eyes scanning the trees. "The forest is… paying attention."
Elias nodded, expression tight. "The prophecy is stirring beneath us."
The path wasn't opening — not yet — but it was waking.
Noctis drifted to Rielun's side, unusually quiet. His shadows curled around Rielun's ankles like protective cats, brushing against him with a strange, instinctive tenderness.
"This place feels wrong," Noctis muttered, voice low. "I don't like you being exposed."
Rielun blinked at him. "Exposed?"
"You're too bright," Noctis said, cheeks darkening. "Everything here wants to look at you."
Rielun hesitated, then reached down and touched one of the shadows.
It reacted like a startled animal — jerking back, then melting into his palm, warm and trembling.
Noctis froze.
A sharp breath escaped him, and color rushed to his ears. His shadows curled tighter around Rielun, as if embarrassed for him.
The bond pulsed — dark, warm, intimate.
Ahead of them, Aeris glanced back and scowled, jealousy flashing across his face.
Sylas's expression tightened with worry.
Rowan's jaw clenched, protective instinct flaring.
They walked on.
Rowan tried to hide his limp, but every few steps his breath hitched. His side throbbed with each movement, and his leg dragged slightly behind him.
Aeris swooped in immediately.
"You're limping like a baby deer," he announced.
Rowan glared. "I'm fine."
"You're not," Aeris said, looping an arm under his. "Do you want me to carry you? I can carry you."
"Don't you dare."
"You're going to fall on your face," Aeris added cheerfully. "And I'm going to laugh."
Rowan grumbled, but he didn't pull away.
Rielun watched them with soft concern, the bond tugging at him.
They continued until the forest shifted again — this time wrong.
A corrupted bird perched on a branch above them, its feathers patchy, its eyes hollow and black. It stared at Rielun without blinking.
The bark beneath it rotted in real time, dark sap dripping like blood.
Rielun's breath caught.
A whisper slid through the trees, brushing against his ear.
"Found you…"
Noctis reacted first, shadows snapping upward like spears.
Rowan reached for his weapon despite the pain.
Sylas yanked Rielun behind him.
Aeris stepped in front of Rowan, protective and furious.
Elias went pale.
The bird vanished — dissolving into ash.
The message was clear.
They were being hunted.
The forest softened again as they walked, as if trying to soothe them after the warning. A stone half‑buried in moss glowed with a faint crescent symbol, silver and soft.
Rielun stepped near it — and a memory tugged at him.
Moonlight on water.
A carved archway.
A voice whispering his name with reverence.
He staggered.
Sylas caught his arm. "The Haven is close."
Elias nodded slowly. "The prophecy is stirring. We're nearing the threshold."
The path wasn't open.
But it was listening.
They reached a clearing just as the wind died.
The forest went silent — unnaturally so.
The crescent symbol on the stone glowed again, brighter this time, casting silver light across the clearing.
Rielun stepped forward.
The ground beneath him hummed like a heartbeat.
Then—
A voice, faint and desperate, carried on the wind:
"Oracle…"