In moments, Lucien reached the familiar landmark—the back of the mountain that housed the Hall of Columns. He quickly averted his gaze from the sculpted naked woman's body and pressed northward.
The Mist of the Forgotten revealed itself as an ashen plain riddled with rocky edges and uneven terrain. At one point, Lucien sensed he was climbing. The slope wasn't obvious, but it was there.
Then, at the peak, he began descending again. The lower he went, the more the ashen plain transformed. Verdant life erupted around him—trees so healthy they seemed almost unnaturally vibrant.
Their lush canopies spread wide, intertwining so densely that not even a fragment of pale light from above could penetrate the depths of the jagged ashen plain.
The canopy formed its own sky, transforming the depths into a hollow realm. Perhaps this was how it became Evelaine's Hollow.
