By the time they reached the valley, the forest had changed.
The trees stood taller here—too tall, their trunks spiraling like twisted spines that reached endlessly toward the dim light above. The air smelled faintly of iron and rain. Somewhere in the distance, water fell in a steady, rhythmic cascade, though Luna couldn’t see it through the mist.
Valois moved ahead in silence. His cloak was torn from the fall, his blade chipped at the edge. Every so often, he’d pause, his gaze darting to the shadows between the trees as if listening for something only he could hear.
Luna broke the silence first. “You’ve been here before.”
He didn’t answer right away. “Once,” he said finally. “When the temple still stood.”
“And now?”
His jaw tightened. “Now it’s a tomb.
The ruins revealed themselves
