The five Supremes led Emery out of the shrine and into the deeper forest.
The farther they went, the older the forest seemed to become. The trees grew taller, their enormous trunks twisted into strange shapes, and their branches intertwined overhead until they blotted out most of the sky. The air grew cooler, carrying the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. Sunlight gradually faded, leaving only faint silver threads filtering through the canopy to illuminate the winding path ahead.
Then Emery noticed something that made him slow down.
At the edge of the path lay a withered flower, its once-delicate petals curled inward and turned brown. He recognized the species from the healthy blossoms he had seen earlier. Under normal conditions, its pale blue petals glowed like tiny lanterns after dusk, filling the forest with a gentle, ethereal light.
This one was dead.
