The whispers wound through the forest like living things, each one brushing against my ears, sharp and cold. The trees, their ember-barked limbs gnarled and curling toward the smoky sky, loomed like grotesque sentinels.
I dragged myself forward, feet grinding against the brittle, ash-coated ground. My body was a mess of bruises and burns, every step a dull throb of pain radiating from somewhere new. But the pain didn't stop me. It couldn't. Not anymore.
Ahead, the molten lake shimmered in the weak light of this cursed place. Its surface rippled faintly, gold catching fire in the glow of the burning canopy. The air was thick, heavy with the acrid tang of sulfur and something sweeter, cloying. It clung to my throat, suffocating, but I refused to let it slow me down.
"Let's try this again," I muttered, the sound swallowed by the oppressive quiet.
