As the soft twilight settled over the clearing, Sylvaris stood at the center, his gaze scanning the forest's horizon. The immortals gathered around him, and the ever-present tension from the day's events lingered in the air. Luna played quietly with the Gloomlings, her giggles providing a brief respite from the growing unease that had started to take root among the group.
"We need to move," Sylvaris finally said, his voice firm but calm. "This place has grown unsafe. We're too exposed. There's another clearing not far from here—more sheltered, closer to the heart of the forest. We'll be safer there."
The immortals exchanged glances, then nodded. They packed their belongings swiftly, Luna still happily unaware of the seriousness of the situation as she played in Zahara's arms. The group moved in silence, the weight of the Shadows and the events at camp heavy on their minds.
By the time they found the new clearing, night had fully fallen. The canopy above them was dense, and the trees here were ancient, their trunks thick and twisted like the forest itself protected them from whatever lurked outside. Sylvaris raised a hand, and with a soft gesture, the ground around them shifted. Soft moss spread beneath their feet, and flowers bloomed in a gentle circle around where Luna lay down to sleep.
"Rest now," Sylvaris said, his voice soothing. "I will watch over you tonight."
Thalos, ever practical, looked at him with mild concern. "You won't get tired?"
Sylvaris chuckled softly, the sound rich and deep like the rustle of the oldest leaves. "I haven't needed sleep for centuries. I can stay awake for as long as the forest needs me. I will be here when you wake."
Lucius raised an eyebrow, half-joking. "So what do you eat, then? Sunlight? Dew on the leaves?"
Sylvaris smirked, playing along. "I eat the earth and drink water. That's all I need."
The immortals laughed quietly, the tension loosening just a little as they prepared for sleep. One by one, they drifted off, trusting Sylvaris to keep them safe.
Morning came gently. A soft mist clung to the forest floor, but the air felt fresher here, cleaner, as if the danger was held at bay for now. The group gathered around the Gloomling, who had the journal once again in his tiny, clawed hands.
"Let's see if we can make any more sense of it today," Nyssa said, her eyes still scanning their surroundings cautiously. "I don't like not knowing what's coming."
The Gloomling looked down at the page, his sharp eyes tracing the ancient symbols. After a moment, his face twisted in thought. "These... these symbols mean 'creatures of the night,'" he said in his gravelly voice, pointing at the strange hieroglyphs.
"Creatures of the night?" Zahara echoed, frowning. "Does it say what kind?"
The Gloomling squinted, struggling to decipher the next part. "It's about a legend. The villagers... their ancestors say that, before they moved to the forest, there was an old witch in their village. She was feared, misunderstood... but it wasn't until the children made a mistake that things turned dark."
He paused, and the immortals leaned in closer, the tension rising again.
"The children killed her only friend—her cat, Lily. After that, the witch was consumed with anger. She cursed the village, unleashed destruction upon it. The villagers had to flee, and that's when they found this forest... when they thought they escaped her."
Kael's brow furrowed. "So, she cursed them for something that happened before they came here?"
The Gloomling nodded. "The curse didn't end when they left. It followed them. She spoke one final curse, something about 'when fire starts and friends kill each other.' That's when the Shadows will find them."
Thalos shifted uncomfortably. "Punish them for what? For something their ancestors did?"
The Gloomling's voice lowered, and he continued reading, his finger tracing the symbols that formed the curse.
"When the fire starts, and friends kill each other... that's when the Shadows will find you. Punish you... punish you all."
A heavy silence followed his words, the weight of the curse settling over the group like a dark cloud. They all exchanged uneasy glances, as if realizing how close they might be to triggering this ancient doom.
Nyssa broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. "So if the curse activates..."
"Then the Shadows will come for us," Kael finished grimly. "Just like they came for the villagers."
Cassian crossed his arms, his face set in thought. "But we're not those villagers. Why would we be part of this?"
"Curses don't always care about fairness," Lucius said quietly. "They just follow the bloodline."
The immortals mulled this over, each considering the weight of the information, the connection between the curse and the strange journal they'd found. For a moment, no one spoke.
Finally, Elara broke the tension. "We need to keep reading. If this curse is real—and if it's somehow linked to the Shadows—it's crucial that we know how to stop it. Or at least how to avoid making it worse."
The others nodded, some more reluctantly than others, but there was no denying the truth in her words. The Shadows were already closing in, and if they didn't uncover the full extent of the curse's power, there was no telling what might happen next.
"Let's continue," Thalos said, his voice steady but laced with a growing sense of urgency. "We need to know what to do... in case the curse begins to take hold."
As they gathered closer, their hearts beat with a mixture of dread and determination. The cursed past was unraveling before them, and they could feel the shadows lurking ever closer, waiting to pounce.