Part 3
For several long moments, nobody spoke.
The little camp gradually returned to life around them as Garrick's words dissolved into the ordinary sounds of travelling folk. Children resumed chasing one another through the meadow while merchants argued cheerfully over the proper way to brew tea on the road. Somewhere behind one of the wagons, the bard had apparently convinced several hunters to help him recreate the legendary battle against the murderous goose.
The goose, Adrian noticed, had somehow become larger with every retelling.
He smiled quietly.
"You don't believe those stories."
Garrick looked away from the forest and shrugged.
"I've learned something about old roads."
"What?"
"The stories don't have to be true."
He crouched beside the campfire, feeding another piece of wood into the flames.
"They only have to be old."
Adrian frowned.
"I don't follow."
The merchant smiled faintly as sparks drifted lazily upward into the afternoon sky.
"When enough generations keep telling the same story..."
He looked back toward the distant trees.
"...eventually you stop asking whether it happened."
"You start asking why nobody forgot it."
The words stayed with Adrian long after the conversation moved on.
The caravan resumed travelling shortly after midday.
The road narrowed as it climbed gently into rolling woodland where enormous ancient trees slowly replaced the open grasslands surrounding Stonehollow. Their trunks grew wider with every passing mile until some appeared older than entire kingdoms, their twisted roots breaking through the earth like the backs of sleeping giants beneath carpets of emerald moss.
Sunlight filtered through countless leaves high above, scattering shifting patches of gold across the road ahead.
It was beautiful.
Almost impossibly so.
Adrian found himself slowing his pace simply to admire it.
"I've never seen trees this large."
Elena rested one hand lightly against the rough bark of an enormous oak as they walked.
"Some of these forests existed before the first kingdoms."
Adrian looked upward.
He couldn't even see the top.
"They feel..."
He searched for the right word.
"...awake."
Elena smiled almost imperceptibly.
"You're a Sovereign."
He looked at her.
"You notice things differently now."
Before Adrian could reply, an elderly elf walking several paces ahead quietly nodded without turning around.
"The forest notices you as well."
Adrian blinked.
"I'm sorry?"
The old elf continued walking.
"You'll understand when you reach Verdant Reach."
He offered nothing more.
No explanation.
No clarification.
Only that single sentence before disappearing back among the other travellers.
Adrian glanced sideways at Elena.
"Does everybody in this part of the world speak in riddles?"
She thought about it.
"...Mostly."
"I was afraid you were going to say that."
Hours passed peacefully.
Travellers joined conversations.
Then drifted apart again.
Stories were exchanged.
Recipes were debated.
Arguments broke out over whether mountain goats possessed enough intelligence to qualify as intentionally annoying.
One particularly passionate dwarf insisted they absolutely did.
The goat, standing several metres away chewing somebody's blanket, appeared determined to prove him correct.
Adrian laughed more during that afternoon than he had in weeks.
It reminded him of why he had fallen in love with fantasy novels back on Earth.
Not because of the battles.
Not because of powerful magic.
Because worlds like this...
Felt lived in.
The first sign that something had changed was so subtle that nobody noticed it.
Not consciously.
A flock of small blue birds burst from the trees ahead.
Instead of crossing the road...
They turned around.
Every single one.
Flying back the way they had come.
One of the caravan guards frowned.
"That's unusual."
Nobody answered.
Another few minutes passed.
Then Adrian noticed something else.
The insects had disappeared.
He hadn't realised how loud they had been until they weren't.
No buzzing.
No chirping.
Nothing.
Only the steady rhythm of wagon wheels rolling across the road.
Even the horses seemed...
Uneasy.
One of them snorted sharply before tossing its head toward the forest.
Another refused to continue until its handler gently calmed it.
The conversations within the caravan gradually became quieter.
Nobody announced it.
Nobody suggested stopping.
The silence simply...
Spread.
Like ripples moving across still water.
Adrian looked around.
The trees hadn't changed.
Neither had the road.
Everything looked exactly the same.
Yet something inside him quietly whispered...
Leave.
His slime core stirred uneasily beneath his ribs.
Not with fear.
Recognition.
He couldn't explain why.
Only that every instinct he possessed had suddenly become alert.
He looked toward Elena.
She had noticed it too.
Without speaking, she rested one hand against the hilt of her sword.
Not drawing it.
Simply...
Ready.
Garrick slowly guided his wagon alongside Adrian.
The merchant no longer smiled.
His weathered eyes remained fixed on the forest surrounding the road.
Quietly, almost carefully, he spoke.
"We're close."
Adrian lowered his voice.
"To what?"
Garrick didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked upward through the towering branches overhead.
"...Listen."
Everyone did.
Nothing.
Absolutely...
Nothing.
No birds.
No insects.
No wind.
Even the leaves had stopped moving.
It wasn't the silence of an ordinary forest.
It was the silence of a theatre...
Just before the curtain rises.
A little girl sitting near the back of one of the wagons tugged gently on her mother's sleeve.
"Mama?"
Her mother looked down.
"What is it, sweetheart?"
The little girl pointed toward the trees.
"...Who's singing?"
Every adult froze.
Adrian listened.
At first...
He heard nothing.
Then...
Very faintly...
Almost too quietly to notice...
A single voice drifted through the ancient forest.
Not words.
Just...
Humming.
Soft.
Beautiful.
Melancholy.
The kind of melody that somehow sounded familiar despite Adrian knowing with absolute certainty he had never heard it before.
The humming lasted only a few seconds.
Then stopped.
The silence that followed somehow felt even heavier.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Then, somewhere far ahead on the road...
A bell rang.
Once.
Its clear tone echoed gently through the endless trees.
A second bell answered.
Farther away.
Then a third.
None of them came from the same direction.
Garrick's face had gone pale.
Without taking his eyes off the road, he whispered only four words.
"...Don't answer if spoken to."
The caravan continued forward.
No one questioned why.
No one suggested turning back.
Because every traveller present...
Had the same unsettling feeling.
They were no longer travelling toward something.
Something...
Was waiting for them.
Nobody answered the bells.
Not the merchants.
Not the guards.
Not even the children.
The caravan continued along the forest road at the same measured pace, yet the atmosphere had changed completely. Only minutes earlier the journey had been filled with conversation and laughter. Now every wagon wheel seemed louder than it should have been, every creak of timber carrying strangely through the stillness beneath the ancient canopy.
Even the horses had lowered their heads.
Their ears remained pressed tightly back.
One of them whinnied quietly before refusing to look toward the trees lining the left side of the road.
Adrian noticed.
Animals trusted instincts long before people did.
His own instincts had begun whispering the same warning.
Something is wrong.
Not danger.
Not yet.
Just...
Wrong.
He glanced toward Elena.
She walked beside him with the same calm expression she always wore, but Adrian had travelled beside her long enough to notice the subtle differences.
Her shoulders had tightened.
Her breathing had slowed.
Every few seconds her emerald eyes scanned the surrounding forest without appearing to move at all.
She wasn't frightened.
She was preparing.
The distinction mattered.
Another bell rang.
Closer this time.
The sound drifted gently through the towering trees before disappearing almost immediately, swallowed by the unnatural silence surrounding the road.
A young caravan guard swallowed nervously.
"I still can't see anything."
Garrick answered without turning around.
"Good."
The guard frowned.
"...Good?"
"If you see it before it wants to be seen..."
The old merchant hesitated.
"...then you're already too late."
Nobody asked him to explain.
Nobody wanted him to.
Nearly half an hour passed.
Or...
At least Adrian thought it had.
The sun still filtered through the same gap in the trees.
The shadows across the road hadn't changed.
Even the breeze seemed frozen in place.
He frowned.
Something about that bothered him.
Quietly, he looked upward.
The leaves overhead...
Weren't moving.
Not one.
Thousands upon thousands of leaves covered the ancient branches stretching above the road.
Every single one remained perfectly still.
There was no wind.
Yet Adrian distinctly remembered feeling it against his face only moments ago.
His stomach tightened.
"Elena."
She looked toward him immediately.
"What is it?"
He spoke quietly.
"The trees."
She followed his gaze upward.
For the first time since entering the forest...
Her expression changed.
Only slightly.
"They aren't moving."
"No."
"They should be."
"They should."
Neither of them spoke again.
Neither needed to.
The little girl from the wagon suddenly laughed.
A bright, innocent laugh that echoed strangely through the silent woods.
Her mother looked down.
"What is it?"
The little girl pointed happily toward the forest.
"The funny man."
Every adult turned.
Nothing.
Only trees.
Ancient trunks disappearing into endless shadows.
Her mother smiled nervously.
"I don't see anyone."
"I know."
The little girl giggled again.
"He's hiding."
The woman gently lowered her daughter's hand.
"Sweetheart..."
"He waved."
Adrian slowly looked toward Garrick.
The merchant had gone completely pale.
Without looking back he quietly asked,
"...Which side?"
The little girl blinked.
"What?"
"The funny man."
His voice remained remarkably calm.
"...Which side of the road?"
The child looked thoughtfully into the forest.
Then she smiled.
"The nice side."
Every colour drained from Garrick's face.
He whispered something Adrian couldn't quite hear.
The old elf walking near the front of the caravan quietly closed his eyes.
"...Merciful forest..."