The forest seemed to close in around them as they pressed deeper into its heart. The trees, gnarled and twisted, whispered in a language Alysia couldn't understand. The air felt heavier here, as though the forest itself was alive, watching them.
Alysia's nerves tingled, and she could almost swear she heard her name being called from the depths of the trees.
"You hear that?" she whispered, looking at Aragos.
"I hear nothing," he replied, his eyes scanning the shadows. "Keep moving."
But Alysia's steps slowed, her mind racing. The whispers became louder, more insistent.
"Alysia…"
She froze. The voice sounded so familiar—soft, loving, and comforting.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "It can't be."
"What's wrong?" Aragos asked, turning back to her.
"My mother," Alysia said, her voice trembling. "I hear her… calling me."
"This is the forest playing tricks on you," Aragos said firmly, grabbing her arm. "It's not real."
But Alysia couldn't help the pull. The whispers had a magnetic force, a promise of something lost and now found.
"Alysia…" the voice urged again.
Her mind screamed at her to resist, but she found herself stepping toward the trees, entranced.
"Stop!" Aragos shouted, pulling her back. "Don't listen to it!"
But it was too late. The ground beneath Alysia's feet gave way, and she fell into the darkness below, the sound of Aragos' voice fading as she descended.