The carriage rolled down the winding pathway, its aged wheels crunching softly on the packed earth. It reached a relatively isolated corner of the forest, a place bathed in an eerie twilight that filtered through the dense canopy overhead. Lush green leaves, vibrant from years of nurturing, brushed against the carriage roof as it passed. The only sounds were the rhythmic creak of the wheels and the calm chirping of unseen birds. However, as soon as the carriage entered these secluded paths, an unsettling silence descended.
"What was that?" Aden muttered, a sliver of unease snaking down his spine. The carriage's sudden stop in the middle of nowhere sent a jolt of apprehension through him.
"[There are no bandits outside, though. I can only sense two mana signatures, yours and that of the coachman]," a voice whispered reassuringly in his head.
