CHAPTER 12THE THREADS OF FATE
ENTERING THE FAELEN TREE’S grove produced nostalgia so immense that it buckled Aithein’s knees. He fought the nervous and queasy feeling of wanting to turn back. Though he hadn’t been here since he was an infant, the surroundings evoked ancient trauma. He was afraid, but he didn’t dare show it, not with what was at stake. The soft, golden-green hue of the forest shifted into sharp misty blues that scattered chills down his spine. The plant life looked like a mystical garden, each dainty tree concealing secrets darker than the next.
Caelwyn, Taelire, and Neilath were uncomfortable for reasons unknown to Aithein. He thought it best to observe and let them reveal their secrets voluntarily.
The faelen tree’s reach was so high that the troupe had to strain their
