For a moment, no one moved. The only sound was the girl's ragged breathing and the faint rustle of leaves overhead. Then the trees shifted. Not swaying with wind—there was none—but bending, groaning, as if stretching after a long sleep.
Kaelen's grip on his dagger tightened. "That's… not normal."
Elyra pressed two fingers to the forest floor, eyes narrowed. "Roots. They're moving beneath us."
The girl sat up shakily, her gaze darting to the shadows between the trunks. "You think the ash-things are the danger? No… they're just the leftovers. The forest itself is alive. It feeds."
Lior, still pale from the Resonance Burn, wiped his mouth and winced. "And you didn't think to tell us before I nearly fried my own soul?"
"Would you have listened?" she snapped back.
Before anyone could argue, the air changed. A deep, damp smell—moss and rot and something metallic—rolled through the clearing. Then came the sound: a low, resonant inhale, like the whole forest was drawing breath.
Sylvi's eyes widened. "It's breathing."
The trees nearest them twisted, their bark cracking open to reveal glowing amber veins. From those fissures, thin tendrils began to snake outward, questing along the ground toward the group.
Kaelen sliced through one with a quick slash—sap sprayed, but it hissed on contact with his blade. "That's acid," he warned.
Elyra grabbed the girl and pulled her onto her feet. "We're moving—now!"
But as they turned to run, the forest's exhale came—a wet, shuddering sound—and from the deeper shadows, new shapes emerged. Not ash-creatures this time. These were heavier, rooted things, dragging themselves forward on knotted limbs, their faces half-formed from bark and bone.
And somewhere ahead, something massive shifted in the darkness.
"Tell me," Kaelen muttered, eyes fixed forward, "that's not the heart of this place."
The girl didn't answer. She just held his arm tighter.