As Bhadra vanished into the forest with Onish slung over his shoulder, the woods seemed to grow more foreboding by the second. The constant rustling of leaves, the whisper of branches swaying in the wind, and the feeling of unseen eyes lurking in the shadows made the air thick with unease. The earth beneath their feet was damp with the remnants of twilight rain, and the scent of wet moss hung heavy in the air, mixing with the acrid tang of something far less natural.
Bhadra knew this land, this cursed stretch of wilderness, better than anyone. He could almost hear the ancient pacts that once held sway over this place crumbling like old parchment in the winds of change. There was a shift in the air tonight, a ripple in the currents of fate that had made him wary of even his closest allies. Old treaties, once sacred, now felt like hollow promises, teetering on the edge of collapse.
The sky above had taken on a dull, sickly hue as night descended, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to twist and writhe with their own dark intent. Bhadra paused, his eyes scanning the horizon as the faint light of the dying sun bled across the land. His sharp senses caught a strange hum in the air, a vibration that tugged at the threads of his awareness. There was something — or someone — watching them, and it wasn't just the ever-vigilant spirit birds.
"I can feel it," Bhadra muttered under his breath, his voice barely more than a whisper. His runic tattoos, faint blue lines of power etched deep into his skin, began to glow softly, rippling with the same energy that pulsed through the earth beneath him. But still, the threat remained elusive, hidden behind layers of magic and shadow.
The horses, usually steady and sure, shifted nervously under his command, as though they, too, could sense the growing unease in the woods. As Bhadra moved deeper into the forest, the trees began to take on a more twisted, unnatural form. Their trunks were gnarled, their branches reaching like clawed fingers towards the heavens, as though trying to ward off something far more ancient and dangerous than the living could comprehend.
Ahead, the air grew dense with a strange, oppressive weight. It was a silence so thick that it almost seemed to breathe. No birds, no insects — just the sound of Bhadra's boots crunching softly on the dry leaves and the distant, faint whisper of the wind.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he found a small clearing near a craggy rock formation. It was here that he laid Onish down, his senses sharp as he surveyed the surroundings. Bhadra knew better than to let his guard down, even here. His magic had already stirred the ashvas, guiding them to this spot, but he could feel the pull of something darker still lurking nearby.
Before long, the soft, rhythmic sound of hooves echoed through the forest, drawing closer. The ashvas had arrived, but there was something wrong — they were hesitant, skittish. Something in the air was repelling them, as if a force older than the spirit beasts themselves had begun to stir.
Bhadra's hand hovered over the boy, checking his pulse, his thoughts racing. He felt a tug in his mind, a strange, insistent pull toward the depths of the woods, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him. Something that shouldn't be.
He moved quickly, casting his senses outward, his eyes flashing with a deep, oceanic glow. Still, there was nothing — or was there? The trees seemed unnaturally still, almost too still. A familiar unease crept up his spine, his every instinct screaming at him to move, to hide. But before he could act, the ashvas pulled against his magic, refusing to go any further, their fear palpable. It was as if they knew, deep down, that danger lurked just beyond the veil.
Frowning, Bhadra reached into his cloak, retrieving a set of eight small nails. With deliberate precision, he hammered them into the ground at each cardinal point, chanting ancient words under his breath. As the final nail struck the earth, the air around them shimmered and warped, the space itself seeming to fold in on itself. With a flick of his hand, Onish vanished from sight, hidden behind the protective shield that Bhadra had created.
Now, the fowler's attention turned fully to the trees around him. The air was thick with a strange, acrid scent. Something was wrong with these woods, something that Bhadra couldn't ignore. He knelt beside a dying soma tree, its once-vibrant leaves now yellowed and brittle. But it was the roots that caught his attention — twisted, blackened, and unnatural. His heart skipped a beat as recognition washed over him.
Djall.
The word whispered through his mind, a chill running down his spine. The dark root, pulsing with a strange energy, was a clear sign that an ancient evil had reawakened. He knew the legend well — the Djall, the god of fate's harbinger, a creature born of darkness and corruption, had no place in these woods. And yet, here it was, growing in the shadow of the trees, feeding on their life force.
Bhadra backed away slowly, his eyes narrowing in caution. How could it be here?
Without hesitation, he turned, guiding the ashvas away from the grove, their spirits writhing with fear. He could feel the Djall's presence growing stronger, the very air thickening with malevolent intent. Bhadra knew that this was no coincidence. The ancient pacts were unraveling, and something far more sinister was taking root.
Later that night, as Onish stirred, waking slowly to the throbbing pain in his head, the air around them was unnaturally still. The trees, though twisted and dark, whispered secrets only they could understand. Bhadra, standing several paces away, his face hidden beneath his hood, was staring intently at the blackened tree in front of them. His runes glowed faintly, their blue light barely cutting through the shadows.
Bhadra's voice was barely a whisper when he spoke, a warning in his tone. "Keep quiet, boy. I think we've stumbled onto something far worse than we imagined."
Onish, disoriented and still weak, strained to sit up, but Bhadra quickly hushed him. "Stay still," he ordered. "The woods are watching us. And something far older than this forest has awakened."
The wind shifted, and Onish's gaze flickered to the black tree that loomed in the distance. Its twisted, gnarled branches seemed to pulse with an unnatural energy, and the very ground around it seemed to wither in its presence.
As Bhadra's shield wrapped tighter around them, the air thick with tension, Onish could feel the weight of the night pressing down on him. And then, as if on cue, a deep rumble echoed through the ground beneath them. The Djall was coming.