Time had blurred into something unrecognizable for Kael and his companions. Days, weeks, months—none of it mattered anymore. What once felt like a brief moment of rest had stretched on endlessly. The sun's position above the clearing never seemed to shift, casting its golden rays down in a warm, perpetual afternoon. The world beyond the clearing had faded from their minds, and all that remained was the serene sanctuary provided by the tree.
Kael lay sprawled on the soft grass beneath its expansive branches, a deep sense of contentment filling his chest. His staff was somewhere nearby, though he hadn't thought about it in… how long? He couldn't say. It was hard to care. The fruit of the tree had become their sustenance, sweet and succulent, each bite more satisfying than the last. It seemed to heal their tired bodies, energizing them without a hint of hunger or thirst.
Lireal lounged on a low branch, her legs swinging idly as she nocked a twig to her bowstring, pretending to aim at nothing in particular. Nyxara lay on a bed of moss, her eyes half-lidded, gazing dreamily up at the sky. Even Aldric, usually stoic and vigilant, had shed his armor, sitting in nothing but a simple tunic as he leaned against the trunk of the tree, a soft smile playing on his lips.
They laughed together, shared stories—ones Kael couldn't remember telling but still felt familiar. The tree provided everything. It was shelter, food, protection. Why leave? There was no danger here, no darkness, no cold, no enemies. It was everything they had wanted.
*Why leave?*
That question had been circling in Kael's mind, whispering at the edges of his thoughts. He'd tried to grasp it fully, but each time, it slipped away like sand through his fingers. His companions' laughter felt distant now, like a gentle hum in the background of his mind. He glanced around, watching them all enjoy themselves, utterly carefree, as if they had no responsibilities, no mission, no world outside this clearing.
Kael blinked. *The mission.*
What had it been again? His brow furrowed as he sat up, rubbing his temples. He glanced at Aldric, at Lireal, at Nyxara. They were all so content, so blissfully unaware. And yet, beneath that peace, there was a creeping sensation, gnawing at the back of Kael's mind. Something was wrong, wasn't it?
But the fruit—the fruit was so sweet, so nourishing. The tree felt so warm and welcoming. Why did he feel this strange unease, as if some distant memory was trying to claw its way to the surface?
Kael stood, swaying slightly as his legs adjusted. He couldn't remember the last time he'd stood, let alone moved away from the tree's branches. As he glanced around the clearing, that sense of wrongness grew. It wasn't just a feeling; it was a weight, a pressure building in his chest. His heart beat faster, and his breath quickened.
They weren't supposed to be here. Not like this. He couldn't remember when, or why, but they were supposed to be somewhere else. They had a mission—a dangerous one. The thought slipped from his grasp again, but he grabbed onto the feeling, the urgency.
Kael took a step away from the tree, glancing back at his friends. They didn't even notice. They were too wrapped up in their own little world, oblivious to the creeping dread that now filled his chest.
His staff. Where was his staff? He needed it. It was his anchor, his connection to the natural energies that surrounded him. Without it, he felt lost. His eyes scanned the clearing, searching. He had left it somewhere nearby, hadn't he? But… where?
Kael stumbled forward, his mind growing foggier with each step he took away from the tree. He looked around desperately, but everything seemed to blend together—the grass, the flowers, the branches of the tree. His surroundings seemed to twist and shift the farther he moved from the trunk, as if the clearing itself was trying to lure him back, to cradle him in its soothing embrace.
He shook his head, forcing himself to concentrate. He couldn't join them again, not yet. Something was very wrong here, and he had to find out what. *The staff… where was it?* The harder he tried to remember, the more elusive it became, as though the very act of searching was pushing it further from his mind.
In the distance, Lireal's laughter echoed, melodic and warm. Kael's steps faltered, and for a moment, he felt the urge to laugh with her, to return to the group and bask in the peace of the clearing. But that small flicker of doubt gnawed at him. He couldn't give in. Not yet.
Something had to break him free from this hold. His hand, trembling slightly, reached toward the ground, grasping at the cool earth. Maybe if he could feel the magic in the ground, reconnect with the flow of mana around him, he could find his staff—or at least break the spell clouding his mind.
His fingers traced patterns in the dirt, simple runes he had learned long ago to focus his mind. The earth felt strange, unfamiliar, but Kael pressed on. As he finished the last rune, a faint pulse of energy flowed through him. It wasn't strong, but it was enough to jolt his senses.
In that moment of clarity, he felt it—the faint tug of his staff's magic, buried deep beneath the layers of enchantment that surrounded the clearing. It wasn't far, just hidden. Hidden from his sight, and hidden from his mind.
With renewed determination, Kael continued to search, focusing on that faint pulse of magic. His fingers brushed against the smooth wood, and the moment he touched it, a surge of power coursed through him, breaking the fog that had settled over his mind.
Kael gripped his staff tightly, breathing heavily. The laughter of his companions faded into the background as reality settled in. This wasn't right. The tree, the clearing—it was all an illusion, a trap.