The deeper we ventured into the Duskwood, the darker the atmosphere grew. The towering trees loomed over us like silent sentinels, their gnarled branches twisting toward the sky as if trying to trap the very light. The soft rustling of leaves was the only sound accompanying our steps, but it was unsettling, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. Despite the eerie silence, I couldn't shake the feeling that something—no, someone—was watching us.
Aelira led the way without hesitation, her pace steady and assured, though her expression remained unreadable. The shadows didn't seem to bother her; they embraced her, clinging to her like old friends. For some reason, I felt the forest grew quieter with her presence, almost as if it acknowledged her as one of its own.
Lyria was walking just behind me, her hand still clutching her dagger, her eyes darting around nervously. She had become more reserved since the battle with the shadow beast, and I couldn't blame her. The truth of what we were up against was starting to settle in, and the weight of it was heavy on her, as it was on me. But I could tell she wanted to speak, to break the silence between us.
I glanced over at her. "You're quiet."
Lyria gave a faint, weary smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Just thinking."
"About what?"
She hesitated, her gaze lingering on Aelira ahead of us, who seemed unbothered by the oppressive atmosphere of the forest. "About her," she said, her voice low, almost a whisper. "She's hiding something."
I frowned. "Aelira?"
"Yeah," Lyria replied, her voice still uncertain. "I don't know why, but I don't trust her completely. She says she's here to help, but... there's something about her. She's too calm. Almost too perfect."
"You think she's hiding something?" I asked, my voice cautious. My mind had already started to entertain the same thought. Aelira had been enigmatic since the moment we met her. But at the same time, I wasn't sure I had the right to question her yet. She had, after all, guided us through a battle that could have ended our lives.
"I don't know," Lyria admitted, shaking her head. "But I feel like we're walking into something much worse than we think. And I don't know if she's the ally we need or the enemy we're running toward."
I glanced at Aelira's back, her silver hair catching the faint light that filtered through the trees. Her presence was commanding, but I could feel the coldness radiating from her. It was as though she was more attuned to this world than either of us, like the forest itself was something she understood on a deeper level. Maybe Lyria was right to feel wary, but we didn't have much of a choice but to trust her for now.
I leaned closer to Lyria, lowering my voice. "We don't have much of a choice, Lyria. If we're going to stop the Blackthorn, we need her. Whatever she's hiding, we'll have to deal with it later."
Lyria gave a reluctant nod, but I could see the doubt still lingering in her eyes. "I know... but I don't like it. Something doesn't feel right."
The silence that followed was filled only by the soft crunch of our boots on the leaf-covered ground. As we walked, the sense of being watched grew stronger, and I couldn't help but glance over my shoulder every so often, half-expecting to see something—or someone—lurking in the trees behind us. But when I looked, the shadows were still, unmoving.
The path began to narrow, and the undergrowth thickened, the air growing heavier. The deeper we went into the forest, the more oppressive it became. The very atmosphere felt dense, as if the land itself was alive and aware of our presence.
Suddenly, Aelira stopped. We both halted behind her, sensing that something had changed.
"We're not alone," she said, her voice eerily calm.
I tensed, instinctively reaching for the sword I had taken from the fallen soldiers. Lyria's hand went to her dagger, her posture rigid, every sense alert.
"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice low.
"I mean," Aelira began, turning slowly to face us, her eyes flicking to the trees around us, "that there are watchers here. Something—or someone—has been following us for a while. The forest is filled with eyes, hidden in plain sight."
I looked around, but the trees were silent, unmoving. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching us from the shadows, but I saw nothing.
"There's nowhere to hide in the Duskwood," Aelira continued, her voice as cold as the wind that swept through the trees. "The creatures here have adapted to blend into the environment. Even the wind can't help you. If you're not careful, you'll miss them."
I scanned the trees again, trying to make sense of her words. The Duskwood was unnerving, sure, but I hadn't felt anything like this. Still, Aelira's warning made my skin prickle. If there were creatures watching us from the shadows, we had to be on high alert.
"I don't suppose you have a way to deal with them?" I asked, my hand tightening around the hilt of my sword.
Aelira's lips curled into a faint, amused smile. "I've got more than enough to deal with any of them. But you, on the other hand..." She let the sentence hang in the air, her gaze lingering on me with an unreadable expression. "You'll need to learn how to fight if you want to survive."
Lyria stepped forward, her expression determined. "We're not helpless. We've faced worse."
Aelira turned to her, a flicker of something in her eyes before it vanished, replaced with the same cold resolve. "You've faced what you could understand. But the Duskwood is a different kind of threat. The things that walk here are not of your world."
The air grew thick again as Aelira moved forward, gesturing for us to follow. "We'll make camp soon. Rest while you can. The real journey begins now."
As we moved forward, the forest seemed to tighten around us, every rustling leaf, every snap of a twig, amplified in the stillness. I could feel the weight of her words settling on my shoulders. This was only the beginning. Whatever was watching us, whatever dangers lay ahead, I knew we weren't ready for them—not yet.
But I would be. I had to be.