As they wandered through the dense forest, the air grew thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. The sun barely filtered through the canopy above, casting eerie shadows that seemed to move with every step. Hex couldn't shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at him. His thoughts kept drifting back to his transformation—the memories replayed like a broken record, raw and relentless. The feeling of the world shifting beneath his feet, the sense of power and loss as his form had changed. The bond with his beastly side had been forged in blood and agony, and now it seemed to haunt him at every turn.
His feet crunched along the path, but his mind was elsewhere. Every creak of the trees, every rustle of the underbrush sent a twinge of panic through him. He wanted to shake it off. Focus on the now. Focus on the forest, Focus on anything but that.
Dahlia, ever aware of her surroundings, glanced back over her shoulder at him, an eyebrow arched with slight amusement.
"Ehem! Aren't you supposed to be taking the lead, hunter?" she teased, her voice laced with mockery.
Hex's lips twitched into a faint grin, but it didn't reach his eyes. He shrugged nonchalantly. "You seem to be doing fine. Just carry on."
His attempt at humor fell flat, masking a deeper unease. Humor was his armor, the shield he always raised to deflect whatever emotions he didn't want to face. And right now, discomfort and guilt gnawed at him. Dahlia stopped in her tracks, crossing her arms and staring him down. Her intense gaze seemed to pierce right through him.
He sighed heavily, lowering his head in surrender. He could feel her eyes burning into him, unyielding. He stepped forward taking the lead.
"If you notice anything strange or out of place tell me," Dahlia said after a beat, her voice was hard with impatience.
Hex had been trying to distract himself, but now that the focus was back on the task at hand, he scanned their surroundings. A few birds flitted about, the sound of their wings slicing through the air. The dense underbrush shifted, likely stirred by the passing of smaller creatures. Still, his senses felt heightened—too heightened.
"Well, I have noticed something that's out of place," Hex replied, his voice low and flat.
Dahlia turned, her eyes narrowing in interest. "Really? Where?"
Hex raised a hand, pointing it directly at his chest with a blank expression. "Right here."
Dahlia's brow twitched, her irritation bubbling to the surface. "You're a piece of work, you know that?" she muttered, shaking her head. "Just keep moving."
Hex chuckled under his breath, but it sounded hollow even to him. He wanted to shake off the tension, but it lingered in the air like a fog. The three of them continued walking, but the silence between them felt heavy, uncomfortable. Normally, they would have been bantering, exchanging sarcastic remarks, or making jabs at one another. But today, the stillness was suffocating, as if the forest itself was pressing down on them.
Trying to break the quiet, Hex threw out another question. "What was that trick you did with the carriage?"
Perus, who had been flying silently overhead, tilted his head slightly and offered a soft, amused smile. "Oh, that? Just something we came up with a while ago."
"Yeah, I get that, but how does it work? How were we moving so fast?"
Dahlia responded with a small smirk, clearly enjoying the chance to share something she knew. "It's really quite simple. My ice reduces friction between us and the ground, making it easier to slide over terrain. Perus uses wind to push us forward, and his magic—well, it cuts down on wind resistance, allowing us to go even faster."
Hex blinked in surprise. "Impressive," he muttered, his admiration for them growing. He hadn't realized just how creative they could be. Dahlia's cold exterior hid a mind that wasn't just quick—it was clever.
They walked for a while in comfortable silence, Hex's thoughts still lingering on the strange combination of frost and wind. He hadn't pegged Dahlia as someone capable of such an innovative solution, nor had he expected Perus' magic to be so versatile. The more he observed them, the more intrigued he became.
But then a thought hit him, one that had been scratching at the back of his mind. He stopped mid-step, his eyes wide as the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.
"Wait... Hold on. You're royalty!?"
Both Perus and Dahlia exchanged a brief glance, but there was no shock on their faces—just a flat, almost bored look. In unison, they answered, "You're just realizing this now?"
Hex's mind was spinning. He stared at them, a sense of confusion growing. How had he not known? The Ashault family? Nothing. Not a whisper. He thought he knew the political landscape of Estria well enough, but this... this was new.
Estria was a unique kingdom without an official ruler. Instead, power rested in the hands of a council called the High Order, made up of representatives from the six superior races: Humans, Dragons, Fairies, Elves, Ikariin, and Merfolk. Each race had numerous royal families, but only one individual from all these families was chosen to represent their kind. This representative, was known as a Pillar, the voice and will of their people in the council.
"I've never heard of your family," Hex said, still trying to piece it all together. "Wait… you can become a Pillar?"
Dahlia raised an eyebrow, looking at him like he was an idiot. "How should I know why you've never heard of my family? Just because we're royalty doesn't mean everyone knows our name. Maybe you just haven't been paying attention."
Hex opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. He suddenly felt like a fool. He had lived in Estria for years, and yet there were entire families, entire factions, he hadn't even heard of. The High Order, the Pillars, the royal families—it was all supposed to be common knowledge. But here he was, dumbfounded by the existence of a family that held such power.
"I... I didn't know," Hex muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, that was a stupid question."
Dahlia didn't let it slide, though. "Focus, Hex. We're wasting time. Have you noticed anything unusual?"
He snapped back into the present, his senses still on high alert. The trees seemed to loom even darker now, their twisted branches clawing at the sky. The ground was soft beneath his boots, Something in the air shifted—an unnatural stillness had fallen. The wind didn't even seem to stir.
Hex's gaze swept across the clearing, and his eyes narrowed as he tried to focus. Nothing seemed out of place, but then again, his instincts were screaming at him. The forest felt wrong. It wasn't just the silence. It was the absence of sound, as if something was hiding in the stillness.
Above them, a low rustling echoed from the trees. Something was moving—something big, something intentional. Hex's muscles tensed.
His ear twitched, and his head snapped toward the source of the noise. A branch cracked, the sound sharp in the otherwise quiet forest.
"What's wrong?" Dahlia's voice broke through his focus.
Hex turned to her, his pulse racing. "It's nothing. I'm just hearing things," he said, though his voice betrayed him.
Dahlia seemed to buy it for the moment, but the sharpness in her gaze suggested she wasn't entirely convinced. She tilted her head, a quiet challenge in her eyes.
"This little expedition feels like a waste of time. Let's head back to the ruins," she suggested.
Hex's eyes darted back toward the trees, his mind whirring. What was that? A squirrel? Maybe. But the feeling... Something's off.
Despite his reservations, they made their way back to the ruins, the heavy silence following them like a shadow. When they emerged from the forest, the towering stone structure loomed ahead, a reminder of their task. At the base of the ruins, they spotted Kate and Conner standing side by side. Perus leaned in toward Dahlia, his voice soft.
"Please... play nice."
Dahlia gave him a wry look, her lips curling into a smirk. "You're literally begging me to lie."
As they approached the ruins, Hex couldn't shake the feeling that something had been watching them, lurking just out of sight. But for now, it seemed they were safe—at least for the moment.