The jungle changed without warning.
The air grew heavier, the shadows deeper. The usual chorus of insects and frogs thinned into uneasy silence, broken only by the slow, lazy current of the river beside them.
Nycto stopped mid-step. "Do you feel that?"
Tomoe nodded slowly, eyes narrowing. "Yeah… it's like we're not welcome here."
Al-Haitham's gaze swept the tree line. "Those marks on the bark back there weren't random scratches. They were a warning. We've just stepped into the Queen's Garden."
Lena frowned. "What are you talking about? I don't feel anything strange."
Tomoe tilted her head, scanning the canopy. "Strange. You're the only one who doesn't feel it.
A humid breeze stirred the ferns, carrying with it a faint, sweet scent — flowers, perhaps, or something pretending to be flowers.
Nycto broke the tension. "Anyway…"
Al-Haitham adjusted his pack. "Let's stick to natural lines. We'll follow the river — less chance of getting lost."
An hour passed. The heat clung to them like wet cloth.
Tomoe called over her shoulder. "Drink some water. Even if you're not thirsty."
Nycto gave a mock salute. "Aye-aye, captain."
Tomoe smirked. "Water's good, but you know what's better? Food."
Lena knelt by a cluster of palms, running her fingers along the smooth trunks. "Relax. I'm working on it."
Al-Haitham glanced at her. "What are you after?"
"Palm hearts," Lena said with a faint smile.
"A tree that tastes like lettuce," he chuckled.
Tomoe wrinkled her nose. "Oh, please no. I'm not eating a tree."
Nycto gestured at the river. "What about fishing?"
Al-Haitham followed his gaze. The river moved dark and quiet, its surface broken only by drifting leaves. "We'll try. But don't count on much — the river decides when to share."
The light began to fade, turning the canopy into a tangled silhouette.
Nycto stretched, shoulders aching. "I think we've walked enough for today."
Lena nodded. "Yeah. It's getting dark fast."
Tomoe dropped her pack. "We'll make shelter here."
Lena turned to Al-Haitham. "You and I will handle food and water. Tomoe, Nycto — you get the shelter and the fire going."
Al-Haitham's voice lowered. "Stay close to the river. And don't wander — not in this place."
Somewhere, deep in the green gloom, something let out a low, almost human sigh.
The river whispered steadily, but something else moved in the shadows. Leaves trembled where no wind touched them.
Tomoe froze mid-step, hand tightening on her blade. "Wait."
Nycto tilted his head. "What is it—"
"Shh."
The jungle felt wrong again — not heavy this time, but sharper, like the air itself was holding its breath.
From somewhere to the left, deep in the underbrush, two faint glimmers appeared. Emerald light, flickering between the leaves like fireflies. But they didn't drift or dance. They watched.
Al-Haitham's voice was low, almost a growl. "Don't stare back. Keep walking."
Lena whispered, "What was that?"
"If you're lucky, nothing. If you're not… the Veilfang."
They moved on, but Tomoe risked a glance over her shoulder.
The glow was gone. Only the rustle of unseen movement remained — and the unshakable certainty that a predator had seen them… and chosen, for now, to let them pass.