Dawn broke with an eerie stillness, the world wrapped in a pale gray mist that clung to the forest like a shroud. Eryndor, Kaelen, and Seris left the ruined tower behind, their steps measured as they pressed further into the wilderness. The whispering from the runes had ceased for now, but its shadow lingered in Eryndor’s mind, like a faint echo she couldn’t shake.
The road ahead grew more treacherous, twisting through dense undergrowth and jagged rocks. The forest seemed to tighten around them, its gnarled branches clawing at the sky.
“This path leads us toward the Rift,” Kaelen said, breaking the silence. “If the visions are tied to whatever’s trying to break through, we’ll find answers there.”
“The Rift,” Eryndor repeated, the name heavy on her tongue. She had heard of it in stories—
