The fogginess pressed harder against Kael's thoughts, a warm, inviting haze that made it hard to concentrate. It was as if the strange, dreamlike peace that had overtaken the clearing was seeping into his very mind, blurring the edges of his reality. His companions' laughter, their lighthearted banter, began to tug at something deep inside him—a desire to let go, to stop worrying, and to join them.
He shook his head, trying to push the fog away. My staff... where's my staff? The thought was urgent, like a lifeline in the murk of his thoughts. If he could just find it, he might be able to ground himself—maybe even fight off whatever magic had wrapped itself around the clearing. But no matter how hard he tried to remember where he'd set it down last night, the memory slipped through his fingers like water.
He looked around the camp, scanning the soft grass and the base of the tree, but his staff was nowhere to be seen. Every time he thought he caught a glimpse of it, the fog in his mind thickened, distracting him, pulling him further away from his mission.
Lireal's laughter caught his ear again, a sound so pure and carefree that it pulled his attention to her. She was leaning against Aldric, who was telling some story Kael couldn't quite catch. Nyxara was spinning around with her arms stretched wide, as if reveling in the warmth of the sunlight. For a fleeting moment, Kael's heart ached to join them, to forget the looming danger of the forest and sink into this strange serenity.
Maybe I'm overreacting... The thought crept in unbidden, sliding into his mind like a soothing balm. What's the harm in resting, just for a while? The mission can wait, can't it?
The more he watched his friends, the more he wanted to give in. Aldric's carefree grin, Nyxara's joyful spins, Lireal's laughter—it all seemed so perfect, so natural. The tension in Kael's shoulders began to loosen, his grip on the fruit in his hand slackening as the desire to join in grew stronger.
But something still gnawed at him. Deep in the back of his mind, a small, insistent voice whispered warnings, trying to remind him that things were not as they seemed. He wasn't supposed to be here, wasn't supposed to be resting, but the voice was growing weaker by the moment. If only he could focus, if only he could find his staff, he might remember what it was he was supposed to be fighting against.
His gaze drifted back to the tree, the branches swaying gently as though beckoning him closer, the fruit glistening with an unnatural allure. The fog pressed in deeper, and Kael felt himself take an unconscious step toward his companions, his feet moving on their own. He was so close to letting go, to joining them in their blissful ignorance...