The dark forest stretched before them, a labyrinth of towering trees and thick underbrush, their twisted branches forming a canopy that blocked out the sun. The deeper the Guardians ventured, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. The air was thick with moisture, and a cold, unnatural mist clung to the ground, swirling around their feet like tendrils of darkness.
"Stay close," Elara commanded, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes scanned the surroundings for any signs of movement, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword, ready to draw at a moment's notice. "We can't afford any more surprises."
Lyra moved beside her, her twin daggers held at the ready. "Surprises? In a place like this, every step feels like a trap."
