The Blackwood Forest was a labyrinth of ancient trees and twisted vines, their dark branches intertwining overhead to block out the sun. The deeper Elara, Garrick, and the mercenaries ventured into the forest, the more oppressive the air became. A strange, unsettling silence had settled over the group, and even the usual sounds of birds and small creatures were absent.
The further they traveled, the more Elara felt the magic around them. It was thick in the air, a tangible force that seemed to pulse with each step they took. The forest was alive with it, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
"I don't like this," Marcus muttered from behind her, his eyes scanning the trees. "The forest is too quiet."
Elara shared his unease but said nothing. She was too focused on the strange sensation pulling at her, like a thread of magic guiding her toward something deeper in the heart of the forest. The further they went, the stronger it became.
Garrick, ever the stoic leader, didn't show any signs of discomfort. He moved ahead with purpose, leading the group through the winding paths of the forest with a confidence that belied the danger all around them. But even he couldn't ignore the eerie stillness that hung over the forest like a shroud.
"This place feels wrong," one of the mercenaries grumbled, his grip tightening on his sword. "We shouldn't be here."
"We don't have a choice," Garrick replied without turning. "The Mage Lords' descendants are the only ones who can help us now."
Elara knew he was right, but it didn't make the journey any easier. Every step they took felt like they were being watched—by something ancient and powerful. She could feel it in her bones, and it was all she could do to keep her focus on the path ahead.
As they pressed on, the forest grew denser, the trees taller and more twisted. The magic in the air was almost suffocating now, pressing down on them from all sides. Elara could see it in the others too—the way their shoulders tensed and their eyes darted nervously from shadow to shadow.
Suddenly, the path ahead opened into a large clearing, and the group came to an abrupt halt.
In the center of the clearing stood an ancient stone structure, half-buried in vines and moss. It was circular, with towering pillars that reached toward the sky like the skeletal remains of some long-forgotten temple. Faint carvings adorned the stones, though they were worn and faded with age.
"This must be it," Garrick said, his voice low. "The old Mage Lords' fortress."
Elara felt a shiver run down her spine. The magic here was almost overwhelming, radiating from the stones like a beacon. She could feel it thrumming in the air, an ancient and powerful force that had long since been abandoned but not forgotten.
The group moved cautiously into the clearing, their eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of life. But the forest remained eerily quiet, as if even the trees were holding their breath.
"There's no one here," Marcus said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you sure the descendants are still alive?"
Before Garrick could respond, the air around them shifted.
A figure stepped out from the shadows of the trees, moving with such grace and silence that Elara barely saw it until it was almost upon them. It was a woman, tall and cloaked in dark green robes that blended seamlessly with the forest. Her face was hidden beneath a hood, but Elara could feel the weight of her gaze as she approached.
"You seek the Mage Lords," the woman said, her voice soft but commanding. "Why?"
Garrick stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, though he didn't draw it. "We need allies. Powerful ones. Tristan's forces are using dark magic, and we can't fight them alone."
The woman's eyes flicked toward Elara, though her face remained hidden beneath the hood. "And what of you, girl? I sense a different kind of magic in you."
Elara stiffened, her heart racing. The woman's words sent a chill through her, as if she could see right through her disguise. She hadn't used her magic in years—not since she had fled the palace—but here, in the heart of the Blackwood, it felt closer to the surface than ever.
"I…" Elara hesitated, glancing at Garrick, who was watching her closely.
The woman took a step closer, her gaze piercing. "You carry the blood of kings and mages alike. You hide your power, but it will not stay hidden for long. The forest knows you, child."
Elara's breath caught in her throat. The woman's words echoed in her mind, stirring something deep inside her that she had long tried to suppress. She had always known there was more to her lineage than just royalty, but her mother had never spoken of it—had never told her the full truth about their family's connection to magic.
Before Elara could respond, the woman turned her gaze back to Garrick.
"The Mage Lords are gone," she said quietly. "We are all that remains of their legacy. But we will not join your fight so easily. Dark magic is not something that can be defeated by force alone."
Garrick frowned. "Then what do you suggest? We don't have time for riddles. Tristan's forces are already moving toward the capital. If we don't stop him now, it will be too late."
The woman was silent for a long moment, her gaze shifting between Garrick and Elara. Finally, she spoke.
"There is a place deeper in the forest," she said slowly. "A place where the old magic still lingers. If you wish to fight dark magic, you must understand it first. But be warned—the path is dangerous, and not all who seek the old magic return."
Elara's heart pounded in her chest. The woman's words were a warning, but they also held a glimmer of hope. If they could unlock the secrets of the old magic, they might stand a chance against Tristan and his dark forces.
Garrick seemed to sense the same thing. He nodded once, his jaw set with determination. "Tell us where to go."
The woman gestured toward the forest beyond the clearing, her hand lingering in the air like a shadow. "Follow the path east. You will know when you have reached the heart of the forest. But be prepared—what you find there may change everything."
Without another word, the woman turned and disappeared back into the trees, her figure melting into the shadows as if she had never been there at all.
The group stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the woman's words settling over them like a heavy cloak. Elara's mind was racing, her thoughts swirling with questions she couldn't yet answer. What had the woman meant about her magic? And what lay at the heart of the forest?
Garrick turned to face the group, his expression grim but resolute.
"We move east," he said. "Prepare yourselves. This journey is far from over."
---
As they ventured deeper into the Blackwood, Elara couldn't shake the feeling that the woman's warning had been more than just a simple caution. The old magic was powerful, yes, but it was also unpredictable—and dangerous.
And whatever waited for them at the heart of the forest was not something they could face unprepared.
But as the magic continued to pull at her, guiding her toward a destiny she couldn't yet understand, Elara knew one thing for certain: her journey was only just beginning.