If I already felt eyes on me before, they intensify during our walk to Nyxara’s large hut. I try not to pay attention and focus on the camp’s atmosphere. There’s a festive smell in the air: more bonfires than before, more decorations on the doors, strange makeup on faces. Darkness greets me when Nymera pushes aside the curtain of bones and beads at Nyxara’s hut. Before entering, out of the corner of my eye, I see Zerion’s golden hair.
I take a step forward, entering the hut, where no sound seems to penetrate and the smell of incense is nearly suffocating. I walk blindly, trying to follow the trail of Nymera’s silver head until we’re back in the same place as the day before, though with some changes. Part of the space has been cleared to make room for a drawing in the center, traced with w
