The forest grew darker as the group ventured deeper, shadows lengthening into eerie shapes around them. The air felt heavier, thick with the scent of damp moss and decay. Aria tightened her grip on her bow, her eyes flickering to the woman stumbling ahead of Simon. Amelia's frail form looked even more pitiful in the twilight, her dirt-streaked face darting left and right as though the trees themselves were her enemy.
Aria's chest tightened with frustration. She doesn't even know who we are—how could someone so oblivious be connected to this chaos? Every time she thought of her brother, her grip on the bowstring tightened further.
"Let's stop here," Spyro announced, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence. He crouched beside a cluster of rocks, his dragon-sense keeping him wary. "We're too exposed."
Simon gently eased Amelia onto a nearby log. Her wide, frightened eyes darted from Spyro to Aria, lingering in confusion. "Who… who are you people?" she whispered, her voice hoarse from disuse.
"We're the ones keeping you alive," Aria snapped. She lowered her bow but kept an arrow nocked, the tension in her stance unmistakable. "Now start talking, Amelia. What happened to you? Why were those goblins after you? What do you know about this cult?"
"I-I don't know you," Amelia stammered, recoiling from Aria's sharp tone. "I don't know anything. I don't even remember—"
"Don't lie to me!" Aria's voice cracked as she stepped closer, the arrow now leveled directly at Amelia's chest. "Do you have any idea how much blood has been spilled because of you? My brother is dead because of this madness, and if you're hiding something—"
"Aria!" Simon's voice cut through the rising tension. He stood, placing a steady hand on Aria's shoulder. "Think about what you're doing. If she dies now, we lose every lead we have. Let's not make this worse."
Aria's breathing hitched, her hand trembling as Spyro stepped forward. He gently pushed the bow downward, his touch firm but careful. "We'll get answers," he said quietly, his golden eyes locking with hers. "But not like this."
Her strength crumbled, and she let Spyro take the bow from her hands. The adrenaline gave way to tears as she sank into Spyro's side, burying her face against his chest. He wrapped a comforting arm around her, murmuring, "We'll find the truth, Aria. Just give it time."
Simon knelt before Amelia, his expression softer but no less determined. "Amelia, please. Anything you can tell us could help. Even if it's blurry or fragmented."
Amelia hesitated, her hands clenching in her lap. "I… I remember reading an old elven text," she began, her voice trembling. "Something about a Veil… and forbidden magic. After that, it's like something took over me. My body… it wasn't mine anymore." She shuddered, her eyes filling with tears. "I woke up here, in this forest. I don't even know how long it's been."
Aria wiped her face, stepping back into the conversation. "What else? Think harder."
"I don't—" Amelia's words choked off as her eyes widened, glowing faintly with an unnatural light. She let out a guttural scream and lunged at Aria with startling speed.
Aria reacted instantly, driving a kick into Amelia's stomach. The force sent the woman tumbling backward, sprawling onto the forest floor. Spyro grabbed Aria's arm as she reached for an arrow. "Don't!" he begged. "She's not in control."
Simon dropped to Amelia's side, holding her down as she thrashed and snarled. "Amelia, listen to me!" he shouted. "You can fight this—whatever it is, we'll help you. Just hold on!"
Aria stood frozen, her bow half-raised. The sight of Amelia's glowing eyes and twisted expression sent a shiver down her spine. "She's useless!" Aria spat, her voice breaking. "She's not going to help us—she's just a liability!"
"Enough!" Spyro's voice boomed as he turned Aria toward him. "If you lose control, then we all lose. You want answers? Then we keep her alive. Do you hear me?"
Aria's breathing slowed as she nodded reluctantly. She lowered her bow, though her gaze remained hard. "Fine. But if she does that again, I won't hesitate."
Simon kept Amelia pinned as the glow in her eyes began to fade. Her body went slack, and she gasped for air, her lips trembling. "I'm sorry," she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry."
Aria turned away, her shoulders stiff. Spyro stepped closer to Simon, his brow furrowed. "We need to figure out what's controlling her. This isn't random."
Simon nodded, brushing Amelia's hair back as she sobbed. "We'll figure it out," he said, though his voice was laced with doubt.
Spyro's eyes narrowed as he stared into the forest. "We don't have much time. Whatever's out there—it's watching us."
The group exchanged uneasy glances as the night deepened around them. Somewhere in the distance, a low, guttural growl echoed through the trees.
Amelia's breathing evened out as she slipped into unconsciousness, her face losing its earlier tension. The fragile quiet that followed was broken only by the crackle of the fire. Aria stood a few feet away, arms crossed, staring at the woman. Her sharp gaze softened for just a moment before hardening again.
Simon and Spyro exchanged wary glances before Simon stepped closer to Aria. "We need to focus," he said firmly. "This isn't just about her. It's about your brother, the missing children, and stopping whoever's behind this. Don't lose sight of that now."
Aria's side eyed him briefly, but she didn't respond. Instead, she looked back at Amelia's slumped figure. Her lips pressed into a thin line before she sighed heavily.
Spyro crouched near the fire, feeding it a few dry sticks. "She seemed genuinely afraid," he said, his voice quiet. "Like she's just as lost in this as we are. Whatever happened to her, she doesn't seem like she's pretending."
Aria didn't move, her jaw tightening. "I still don't trust her."
"No one's asking you to," Simon replied, crouching beside Amelia. He adjusted his jacket over her frail form, noting the way her cheekbones jutted sharply beneath her skin. "But if she's telling the truth, she could help us find out what the cult is planning. And if she's not… we'll deal with that when the time comes."
Aria's gaze flicked to Amelia again. The woman looked so small and fragile now, as if the earlier chaos had drained the life from her. "She looked terrified," Aria muttered. Her voice cracked slightly before she steadied herself. "Like she didn't know what was happening. Maybe she really doesn't remember."
Spyro nodded, leaning back on his heels. "If something took over her, it's left its mark. Whatever we're dealing with is beyond what any of us expected."
Simon stood and walked back to the fire, sitting with a heavy sigh. "We'll wait until she wakes up. Then we'll ask her everything."
Aria dropped her hand, and lowered herself against a tree. The weight of the day was settling into her bones, the anger giving way to exhaustion. "I just… I need answers," she murmured, her voice almost inaudible.
Spyro tilted his head slightly, watching her carefully. He'd never seen her like this—so raw, so vulnerable. When her eyes fluttered closed, her breathing evening out, he moved silently to her side. Pulling out his jacket from a bag, he draped it over her. The chill in the air was growing, and the last thing they needed was her catching cold.
Simon glanced over from the fire, his voice low. "Do you think she'll be able to handle whatever answers we get? If Amelia remembers?"
Spyro didn't answer immediately, his golden eyes flicking between Aria and the firelight. "She doesn't have a choice," he said finally. "But she won't be doing it alone. None of us will."
Simon nodded, his gaze lingering on Amelia. She looked peaceful now, her thin form almost childlike in the fire's glow. "We'll start again when the sun rises," he said quietly. "Till then, let's get what rest we can."
Spyro gave a quiet grunt of agreement before settling into a watchful position. The forest around them was eerily silent, as if even the trees were holding their breath. But for now, at least, the danger had passed.