Deborah's POV
We were whisked away from the ruins of the city by the wind, and when the world around us finally stabilized again, I found myself staring in astonishment at the scene before me.
It was a forest—a lush, thriving forest.
Unlike the desolate, crumbling landscapes we had seen so far, this forest was full of life, with tall trees towering above and dense underbrush stretching out as far as the eye could see.
Vibrant shades of green filled every corner of my vision, like an endless sea of foliage.
The air was filled with the fresh, earthy scent of damp soil, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves, whispering softly like an ancient song.
We sat against the massive trunk of a towering tree, its roots spreading out around us like the protective arms of some ancient guardian.
The ground beneath our feet was blanketed in a thick layer of moss, soft and springy underfoot.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves overhead, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow on the ground, creating a tapestry of greens, from the deep, shadowed hues to the bright, almost translucent shades of new growth.
Yet, despite the forest's vibrant beauty, there was something eerily out of place.
There were no animals.
No birds singing from the treetops, no insects buzzing among the leaves.
Only an endless, almost suffocating stillness.
My heart pounded, a strange, inexplicable excitement thrumming through my veins.
"Matthew, I can feel it… We're getting closer to Tirfothuinn." My voice trembled with barely-contained anticipation.
Matthew looked at me, his gaze filled with curiosity and unwavering trust.
He nodded slightly, silently urging me to continue.
"I don't know how to explain it, but…" I struggled to find the right words, "it's like… like something is guiding me. As if every tree and every leaf is telling me that we're almost there."
I knew how absurd it sounded, but the sensation was undeniable.
It felt as if something deep within me had awakened, as if some part of me was attuned to Tirfothuinn's presence.
I took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh, invigorating scent of the forest.
It filled me with a sense of energy and hope.
I pulled out the old leather map and spread it open, pointing to the area marked Tirfothuinn.
"Look here," I said softly, tracing the outline of the marked area with my finger. "This is where we need to go. But what's around it? Mountains? Lakes? Ruins? Ocenas? We still don't know."
Matthew's gaze lingered on the map, his brow furrowed in thought.
"You see this place next to Tirfothuinn? It's marked as Conscientia."
Matthew stared at the name Conscientia, his brows furrowed in concentration. "When will we reach it? It seems to be close to Tirfothuinn."
"Who knows? Maybe we're already standing on the land of Conscientia." I shrugged lightly but then straightened, a determined look in my eyes.
"But one thing I'm sure of: we have to find it as soon as possible—before the next full moon arrives."
His expression darkened slightly, a flicker of unease passing through his eyes.
The memory of him writhing in pain under the full moon's light flashed through my mind.
Werewolves, cursed and bound, suffer immensely every full moon.
Last night… I honestly feared he wouldn't make it to dawn.
"I think… this is the curse on werewolves. I've seen glimpses of it." I paused, choosing my words carefully. "We need to find a way to break it, Matthew. "
Matthew nodded, his gaze hardening with determination.
Everything about this place seemed perfect—untouched by the devastation we'd seen everywhere else.
The air was crisp and fresh, the forest thick and alive.
Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy overhead, casting shimmering beams of light that danced across the forest floor.
The leaves whispered softly as the breeze passed through, filling the air with the sound of gentle rustling.
Matthew glanced around, awe and reverence etched into his expression.
"I've never seen so many plants before," he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. "This place… it's incredible. It's hard to believe that Earth could have once been like this."
I nodded, taking in the surrounding sight. The forest was teeming with life—lush, green, and vibrant.
But there was a peculiar emptiness here, too.
The trees were tall and straight, the leaves thick and healthy, but there were no flowers, no fruits.
And more unsettlingly, no animal.
No bees or pollinating insects.
Everything seems to be growing on its own.
"This forest is beautiful, but… it feels incomplete somehow," he murmured.
Yes, this forest was like a hollow shell, brimming with plant life yet devoid of a crucial element that sustains a true ecosystem.
"This is the safest place we've been since we reached the surface," I said quietly. "But it's also the loneliest."
We talked for a long time, sharing our thoughts and fears.
Although we hadn't found any food, there was a strange sense of peace here.
We ate the expired canned food we brought from the city ruins.
It was the first time since we arrived at the surface that we truly felt at ease, even happy.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the treetops, we prepared ourselves for the night.
The sky darkened slowly, but the temperature remained mild, a gentle breeze stirring the leaves above us.
"I've never felt so relaxed before," I murmured softly, leaning my head against his shoulder.
Matthew turned to look at me, his gaze gentle and focused.
His eyes were deep and warm, full of emotions that words couldn't capture.
My heart fluttered, a blush spreading across my cheeks.
We simply sat there, leaning against an ancient tree and staring at each other, as if the world around us had faded away, leaving only the two of us.
Slowly, a thin layer of mist began to rise from the ground, drifting between the trees.
It swirled around us, carrying a faint, sweet fragrance—something strange and intoxicating, like a perfume crafted from dreams.