The air was thick with the scent of damp earth as the trio made their way through the twisted forest. The towering trees stood like silent sentinels, their gnarled branches reaching out like skeletal hands, their leaves whispering in the wind. Eryndor’s heart raced, a mixture of unease and anticipation swelling within her chest. The deeper they traveled, the more oppressive the silence seemed to grow. Even the usual sounds of the forest—birds chirping, insects buzzing—were absent, replaced by an eerie stillness that clung to the air.
Kaelen, ever the observer, had been unusually quiet. His usual smirk was nowhere to be found, and his dark eyes flicked from tree to tree, his steps quick and light, as though the ground itself might betray him.
“Something’s wrong,” Seris muttered, his hand
