to Obsidian Shadows
The northern edge of her father’s territory loomed before them, shrouded in an oppressive mist that clung to the twisted trees like a living thing, its tendrils curling and shifting as if they possessed a mind of their own. The once-familiar land, with its sprawling forests and ancient roots, now felt alien, transformed into an otherworldly maze under the influence of Eira’s dark magic. Every branch and shadow seemed to pulse with an unnatural energy, watching, waiting.
“This place doesn’t feel right,” Jamie muttered, her gray eyes darting between the trees, scanning the distorted shadows that stretched and twisted unnaturally in the fog. Her grip tightened on her blade as a shiver ran down her spine.
“It’s not supposed to,” Alaric replied grimly, his golden gaze unwavering as he surveyed the oppressive gloom. The sharpness in his tone carried the weight of experience and a warning. “Eira’s magic warps everything it touches. Stay sharp. Nothing here is as it seems.”
The group moved cautiously, their footsteps barely audible against the damp forest floor, every sound muffled by the dense mist that surrounded them. The air was thick with tension, their senses on high alert as they navigated through the treacherous terrain. Strange magical traps lay hidden in the underbrush, their presence betrayed only by faint disturbances in the air. Runic circles erupted into bursts of disorienting light when triggered, shadowy figures appeared only to dissolve when approached, and faint, ghostly whispers seemed to crawl into their minds, tugging at their thoughts.
Isla pressed forward, her silver eyes glowing faintly as she drew on her connection to the Moon Goddess. The pull toward her twins grew stronger with each step, an almost physical tug that sent an ache through her chest. She clung to the sensation, letting it guide her through the eerie woods, even as the fear of what lay ahead gnawed at her resolve.
“I can feel them,” she murmured, her voice carrying a tremor that spoke of both hope and fear. She gripped her blade tighter, the steel cool against her palm.
Draven stayed close at her side, his amber eyes scanning the surrounding trees with unwavering vigilance. His claws flexed instinctively, the faint metallic sound cutting through the muffled silence as he prepared for the unknown. “We’re close,” he said, his voice low but filled with quiet determination. “Stay together. No one wanders off. The last thing we need is to play into Eira’s games.”
The group pressed deeper into the forest, the tension between them growing with each step. The mist thickened, pressing around them like a heavy shroud, muffling even their breaths and blurring their vision. Every shadow seemed alive, every sound amplified in the silence.
Jamie froze suddenly, her muscles tensing as her hand went to her blade. Her sharp intake of breath broke the stillness. “We’re being watched,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant hum of magic in the air.
Draven’s wolf growled low in his chest, the primal sound vibrating through the group as his eyes locked onto the treetops. The mist parted briefly, revealing a shadowy figure crouched among the branches. Its gleaming eyes reflected faintly in the dim light, watching them with an intensity that sent a chill down Isla’s spine before it vanished silently into the fog, leaving only unease in its wake.
Isla’s breath quickened, her hand tightening on the hilt of her blade. Her voice came out in a hushed, urgent whisper. “What was that?”
“Eira’s tricks,” Alaric muttered, his tone hard and grim. His golden eyes narrowed as he scanned the darkness, every sense attuned to the unnatural magic surrounding them. “She knows we’re here, and she’s toying with us. Be ready for anything.”
The forest seemed to close in tighter around them, the oppressive weight of Eira’s magic growing stronger with every step.
