The path through the forest twisted and turned, becoming steeper and more treacherous with every step. The group moved in determined silence, their breaths visible in the biting cold that seemed to intensify the farther north they traveled. The trees around them grew sparse, their skeletal branches clawing at the sky as though warning of the dangers ahead.
Elara felt the heart's pull more strongly now. It was no longer a faint whisper but a steady hum, vibrating in her very bones. Images continued to flash through her mind: the ice-encased spire, the glowing fissure, and an ominous shadow lurking just beyond her comprehension. She didn't share these visions with the others yet. They had enough to worry about without dwelling on cryptic premonitions.
"We're being followed," Thorne muttered, his voice low enough for only the group to hear. His sharp eyes scanned the forest around them, his gauntlets glowing faintly as he prepared for an attack.
