Ardan stilled, blade still low, but the grip shifted.
ren choked down a breath and muttered sothing that might have been a prayer, or a list of regrets. Hard to tell.
Ren didn't look back.
"Too slow," she said softly.
The shadow didn't move. Didn't answer.
Lindarion blinked once.
It was gone.
No flicker. No blur. No dramatic retreat.
Just… gone.
His hand stayed near the coat. But the heat inside his chest dimd a little, like the system had blinked too.
'That wasn't for us. It ca to see her.'
Ren turned from the river. No hurry in her steps. No tension in her shoulders.
"Ti to go," she said.
Ardan snorted. "Now?"
Ren walked past him without a glance. "Unless you'd like to stay. I hear the trees start talking if you listen long enough."
ren was already pushing himself upright. "Nope. Nope. Fully done with rivers and haunted trees. Let's walk."
Ardan frowned. "Where exactly?"
"My place," Ren said, already moving.
"Your place?" Lindarion echoed.
She didn't slow.
"You have a house out here?"
"No."
"Then—"
"It's not a house."
Lindarion narrowed his eyes. "That's not an answer."
"It's not a house," she repeated. "It's better."
ren dragged his feet over a frozen root. "If it's a grave, I swear—"
"It's warm," Ren said. "And it doesn't ask questions."
That shut him up.
They followed her.
Not because they trusted her. Not even because they wanted to.
But because turning around felt worse.
The forest bent differently now.
Not darker. Just… aware.
Every branch, every ridge of snow, every quiet breath between the crunch of their boots felt like it had started watching too.
Lindarion kept to the rear.
Ardan took front again, two paces behind Ren, sword sheathed but loose.
ren muttered to himself now and then. Just enough noise to pretend he was the loudest thing out here.
The trail turned uphill.
Not steep. Not obvious. Just long. Like the ground had decided it didn't want to make this easy.
Lindarion's legs moved fine. The system was holding. Strong. Better than before. His breath was steady. His vision sharp.
But his mind was busy.
'She didn't flinch. Not once. She looked that thing in the face and smirked like it owed her a favor. Or a fight.'
Ren's boots still left no prints.
The snow parted around her steps.
Not lting. Just… moving.
'It's not just her being weird. The forest is like helping her.'
He didn't like that.
Didn't hate it either.
But it made sothing in his chest tighten, and he didn't think it was the cold.
Ren finally stopped beside a rock that wasn't a rock.
Lindarion saw it first.
Too smooth. Too round. No snow clinging to the top.
Ren crouched. Pressed one gloved palm to the side.
The rock shimred once.
Then split.
A seam opened in the slope, thin and clean, wide enough for a person to walk through if they turned sideways and didn't breathe wrong.
Ren stepped in.
Didn't look back.
Ardan glanced at Lindarion.
Lindarion nodded.
ren cursed softly and followed last.
The door closed behind them.
No sound.
No seal.
Just… gone.
And the forest was quiet again.
It slled like iron and moss.
The tunnel curved just enough to make the air feel still. Old stone. Warr than it had any right to be. Their boots scuffed against smoothed flooring, not carved but worn down by soone who had walked it a thousand tis.
Ren didn't speak. Just kept moving like secret passageways were a weekly convenience.
'If she leads us into a wall, I'm going first. Fantastic.'
ren breathed harder behind him. Not from panic. Just the exhaustion of soone who had spent all their energy pretending he had more.
Ardan muttered, "I hate caves."
"It's not a cave," Ren said.
"Still hate it. It's similar enough."
The corridor opened.
Not wide. Just suddenly.
The chamber breathed like it had lungs.
Warmth clung to the stones. Not fire-warm. Deeper. Like the heat ca from below the earth instead of the fla itself. Roots pulsed above. Green-veined and old.
Light flickered sideways across stone benches and shelves packed with dried herbs and strange little knives that had never been sharpened for peace.
Lindarion stepped in second. Not first. Ren had claid that spot and didn't seem inclined to give it back.
Ardan followed. ren limped behind them all, dragging the cold on his heels.
There was soone already inside.
She stood near the fire, one hand resting lightly against the curve of the wall, like she had grown from it. Tall. Dark-skinned.
Black hair tied in a high knot wrapped with a silver thread. Her clothing wasn't ornantal but it wasn't plain either.
Practical, with intent. The kind that looked like it had been made from mory instead of pattern.
A dark elf..Lindarion could already tell she was from Tirnaeth.
Ren said, "Lira."
The woman didn't speak. Her grey eyes passed over Ren, then over Ardan. They stopped for a half-breath on ren. No reaction.
Then they landed on Lindarion.
And stayed.
He didn't blink.
Her head tilted slightly.
"You are not supposed to be here," she said. Her voice was low, not soft. Like velvet cut from steel.
Lindarion didn't answer.
ren muttered, "Why is everyone in your life ominous?"
No one laughed.
Lira stepped forward. Her eyes sharpened the closer she got, like she was filtering through old stories in her head.
"You were a child," she said finally. "No. Not were. You still are, aren't you."
Lindarion frowned.
She circled him once, careful, like sothing might bite.
"I rember hearing about the festival in Elarion? Five years ago, maybe less. Who knows exactly."
He stayed still.
"You beat Sylas Vaerath, right?"
ren made a noise in his throat. "Wait, what?"
'No way she rembers that…'
Lira didn't stop.
"Heard he cried after arriving back at the royal palace."
Ardan looked away, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
"I heard about it for years," Lira said.
"The Vaerath family called it an embarrassnt. A disgrace. Said Sylas had been weakened beforehand... Said you cheated. But I rember the report by the guards. The Prince of Eldorath with the brightest eyes that shine brighter than any forest."
Her gaze locked.
"You are that kid, am I right? I can also tell just by your presence.."
Reviews
All reviews (0)