Kaelen awoke to the faintest whisper of wind moving through the cracks in the walls. The air was damp, heavy with the lingering smell of rain and earth. For a moment, he remained still, eyes tracing the warped wooden beams overhead. The silence in the abandoned structure was deceptive. Beneath it, he could sense the subtle pulse of life beyond the walls, as though the entire forest held its breath. His hand instinctively moved to the hilt of his dagger, the familiar weight grounding him. He sat up slowly, scanning the dim interior. Only a few rays of morning light filtered through the gaps, streaking the dust-filled air with pale gold. He had not meant to sleep so deeply, but exhaustion had stolen the night from him.
Lira was gone from her spot near the entrance, though her bedroll remained. A small, steaming cup rested beside it, the faint aroma of herbal tea curling upward in gentle ribbons. She had likely risen early, either to scout or to clear her head. Kaelen did not blame her. Yesterday's events still lingered between them, sharp and unspoken. He rose, stretching the stiffness from his limbs, and stepped to the doorway. Outside, the forest was alive with muted sound. The trees swayed slightly in the cool breeze, and somewhere far off, a bird called in a tone that was neither song nor warning.
His mind replayed the strange encounter with the cloaked figure from the previous night. That brief exchange of words, though short, had left Kaelen unsettled. The voice had carried both knowledge and weight, as though it had been waiting specifically for him. He had asked questions, yet every answer felt like another layer of the puzzle rather than a solution. The warning had been clear, however: they were not alone in these woods, and the others who wandered here did not all walk with good intentions.
Kaelen descended the moss-covered steps that led from the shack and made his way toward the stream they had passed yesterday. The undergrowth was thick but familiar in its arrangement, and he let instinct guide him. When he found the water, he crouched beside it, splashing his face with the icy current. The shock of it cleared away the remnants of sleep and sharpened his senses. Across the stream, he caught sight of movement — a figure moving slowly, almost cautiously, between the trees. His hand rested on his weapon again, but he did not draw it. The shape resolved into Lira, her bow slung over her back, a bundle of wild roots and berries in her hands.
"You are up earlier than I thought," she said as she stepped across the stones to join him. Her tone was casual, but her eyes studied him carefully.
"I could not sleep any longer," Kaelen replied. "Too much to think about."
She nodded in understanding, setting down her gathered food. "I went looking for something to break our fast. The forest is generous here, but not without cost. I found fresh tracks near the ridge. Too large for deer. I do not think we are the only ones moving through this area."
Kaelen frowned. "The cloaked one's warning is still fresh in my mind. If what they said is true, we may be closer to trouble than I thought."
They returned to the shack, eating in silence for a time. The berries were tart, the roots earthy and bitter, but they filled the emptiness in Kaelen's stomach. While they ate, Lira described the tracks she had seen — deep impressions with a peculiar pattern, like claws but set wider apart than any natural beast she knew. The thought left Kaelen uneasy.
When the meal was done, they began gathering their few belongings. The shack had served as a shelter, but it was too exposed to remain in for long. Kaelen had no desire to be found there if those tracks belonged to an enemy. They set off westward, guided by the faint memory of an old path he had once traveled in his youth. The forest was denser in that direction, but it would eventually lead them to the foothills and the hidden passes beyond.
The air grew warmer as the sun climbed higher. Light streamed through the canopy in fractured beams, creating shifting mosaics on the forest floor. Insects hummed unseen, and occasionally the rustle of small creatures darting through the underbrush reached their ears. Kaelen kept his senses open, scanning for any irregularities in the pattern of sound. It was in these moments — the quiet, the monotony — that danger often emerged without warning.
Around midday, they came upon the remnants of an old stone road, half-buried beneath roots and moss. It was ancient, far older than either of them, and Kaelen felt a strange pull standing upon it. The stones were slick, worn smooth by centuries of passage. "This road was once a lifeline between settlements," he said quietly. "Merchants, travelers, even soldiers would have crossed here. Now it is nothing more than a forgotten scar in the earth."
Lira knelt to examine one of the stones. "Do you think it still leads anywhere worth finding?"
"That depends on what you are willing to risk," Kaelen answered. "The old roads remember everything, and not all of it is friendly."
They followed the road for a time, moving quickly but keeping alert. Twice they had to stop when the sound of distant footsteps echoed faintly through the trees, though they could not pinpoint the direction. Kaelen's unease grew with each step. The forest seemed to close in tighter, the air heavier. Eventually, they reached a clearing where the remains of a once-grand archway stood. The stones were cracked, vines weaving through the gaps, but the carvings were still visible. Strange symbols curled across the surface, their meaning lost to time.
Kaelen traced the lines with his fingers. "These markings... I have seen them before, though only in fragments. They speak of guardians, of boundaries not meant to be crossed."
Lira's gaze was fixed beyond the arch. "Then what lies on the other side?"
"Perhaps we should not find out," Kaelen said, though he knew the decision would not be that simple. Something in the air beyond the arch felt different, almost charged.
They pressed on, passing beneath the arch. Almost immediately, the forest shifted. The colors deepened, the shadows lengthened, and the air grew cooler despite the sunlight overhead. The ground beneath their feet was softer, muffling their steps. Even the sounds of the forest seemed muted, as if the world here held its own rules.
An hour later, they came to the edge of a shallow ravine. A fallen tree formed a natural bridge across it, wide enough to walk but still unstable. Kaelen tested it cautiously, then crossed first, extending a hand to Lira when she followed. Midway across, a deep, guttural sound rumbled from somewhere below. They froze, exchanging a glance.
Kaelen peered over the edge. In the dim light below, he could see movement — a mass of dark shapes, shifting and writhing. He could not tell if they were animals or something else entirely. "We keep moving," he whispered, and they crossed without looking down again.
By the time the sun began to sink, they had found another shelter — a hollow beneath the roots of a massive tree, hidden from view unless one stood directly before it. They settled inside, laying out their bedrolls and kindling a small fire. The flames were weak but enough to push back the chill.
As night fell, Kaelen found himself staring into the fire, the events of the day swirling in his mind. He thought of the old road, the arch, the strange symbols, and the unseen presence in the ravine. Every step they took seemed to draw them deeper into something neither of them fully understood.
Lira sat opposite him, her bow across her lap. "We should decide our next move in the morning," she said quietly. "But I have a feeling the road ahead will not allow us to choose freely."
Kaelen nodded, though his thoughts were elsewhere. Somewhere beyond the reach of their small firelight, something moved through the forest, unseen yet aware of them. He could feel it, patient and deliberate. Sleep would not come easily tonight.