The forest thickened as we moved away from the temple. My breath came steadily, though the weight of what had happened clung to me. The Dawnhound stayed close, its quiet presence a reassurance against the growing unease. The Phaseling floated a few paces behind, silent and watchful, as though trying to decide if it trusted me—or if I trusted it.
The guiding stone remained steady now, its pulse less of a pull and more of a quiet reminder. I adjusted my pack, feeling the straps bite into my shoulders, and pushed forward. The trail wasn't much of a trail anymore. Roots tangled underfoot, and branches clawed at my arms, but I wasn't going to stop. Not yet.
We emerged into a clearing just as the sun dipped low, turning the sky into a smear of orange and pink. A fallen log rested in the center, its bark weathered and split. I dropped my pack and sank into it, grateful for the momentary relief. The Dawnhound circled once before settling at my feet, its glowing eyes fixed on the Phaseling. The translucent creature hovered near the edge of the clearing, its form catching the fading light in odd, broken patterns.
I pulled out a strip of dried meat and tore into it, the salt grounding me. My eyes flicked to the Phaseling. "Do you eat?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could think better of it.
The Phaseling didn't respond—not that I'd expected it to. Its form rippled slightly, like a sigh that hadn't quite formed. I shrugged and tossed a small piece of meat toward it. The strip passed through the creature and landed on the grass behind it. The Dawnhound let out a soft chirp that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
"Figures," I muttered, leaning back on the log. "Not that I'd share much anyway."
The air cooled as the sun sank lower, and the forest around us began to stir. The distant call of an owl punctuated the quiet, followed by the rustle of leaves as something moved through the underbrush. The Dawnhound's ears twitched, but it didn't rise. Whatever was out there wasn't a threat—not yet.
The Phaseling drifted closer, its form dimming as the last light disappeared. It seemed almost... smaller, though that might have been the darkness playing tricks on me. I felt a strange pang of sympathy for it. Whatever this creature was, it seemed as lost as I was. I reached out, my hand brushing the air where it hovered. For a moment, it flickered brighter, its cool energy brushing against my skin before it pulled away again.
"We'll figure it out," I said, mostly to myself. The Dawnhound lifted its head at my voice but didn't move.
Night fell in full, bringing with it the cold. I built a small fire, its warmth pushing back the chill and casting flickering shadows across the clearing. The Dawnhound curled closer to the flames, its fur glinting faintly in the light. The Phaseling hung at the edge of the fire's glow, its presence less substantial now but still there.
Sleep didn't come easily. The ground was hard, the air sharp, and my mind wouldn't quiet. Images from the temple replayed behind my eyes: the shifting carvings, the Phaseling's form, the bond I'd felt when I reached for it. What did it mean? Why had the guiding stone brought me here?
I didn't have answers, only the weight of the questions.
Morning came too soon, pale light creeping through the trees. I stretched, wincing at the stiffness in my back, and set about breaking camp. The Dawnhound watched me with mild interest, its tail flicking as I stuffed my belongings into the pack. The Phaseling hovered nearby, a faint glimmer in the early light.
"Let's get moving," I said, slinging the pack over my shoulder. The Dawnhound rose immediately, shaking itself off before padding ahead. The Phaseling lingered for a moment longer before drifting after us.
The forest thinned as we walked, giving way to rolling hills once more. The air was warmer here, the sky brighter. I found myself relaxing despite the weight of the guiding stone and the uncertainty of the road ahead. The path wasn't clear—hadn't been since I left the town—but it was a path, and for now, that was enough.
By midday, we reached a small stream. I knelt to refill my water flask, the cold bite of the water refreshing against my hands. The Dawnhound drank beside me, its ears twitching at every sound. The Phaseling hovered above the stream, its form rippling like heatwaves as it watched the water flow.
"You don't need this either, do you?" I asked, holding up the flask. The Phaseling didn't respond, of course, but there was something almost amused in the way it shifted.
The guiding stone pulsed faintly as I stood, a reminder that it was still there, still pulling me forward. I looked up, scanning the horizon. A distant ridge loomed ahead, its rocky face stark against the sky.
"That's where we're going, isn't it?" I muttered, the question aimed more at the stone than my companions. The Dawnhound barked softly, its tail wagging once before it trotted ahead. The Phaseling followed, silent as ever.
The climb was rough, the path steep and uneven. My legs burned, my breath coming hard, but the stone's pull didn't waver. By the time we reached the top, the sun was dipping low again, casting the land below in golden light.
A vast expanse stretched out before us: rolling plains, dotted with clusters of trees and the faint glimmer of water in the distance. But it wasn't the view that held my attention.
At the base of the ridge, nestled among the rocks, was a structure. Smaller than the temple, but unmistakably ancient. Its weathered stones gleamed faintly in the light, and even from here, I could feel the guiding stone respond, its pulse quickening in my chest.
"Another one," I said, my voice low. The Dawnhound barked again, this time sharper, as if urging me forward. The Phaseling drifted closer, its form brightening slightly.
I tightened my grip on the pack's straps and began the descent. The guiding stone pulsed steadily, its call as clear as ever. I didn't know what we'd find in that place, or what it would mean. But as the three of us moved forward—man, beast, and something in between—I felt a strange sense of purpose.