The forest had grown quieter over the last two days.
Not peaceful—watchful.
The group moved carefully through the Verge, skirting around ley-line ruptures and weaving beneath twisted boughs heavy with silver moss. Every night they took turns keeping watch. Every morning they counted shadows, just to be sure none had followed them from the last camp.
Then, as the sun dipped low on the third evening, they found it.
The trees parted suddenly, like curtains pulled back by unseen hands, revealing a wide, circular clearing at the heart of the wood. Pale stones rose from the earth in a perfect ring, each one taller than a man and covered in faded carvings. Most were half-buried in moss and time—but the moment Caitlyn stepped into the grove, something changed.
The patterns began to glow.
Sof
