The Twilight Bastion loomed like a wall of endless darkness. Its towering trees twisted upward, their branches curling like skeletal fingers blotting out the light. Vines draped down, swaying lightly in the faint breeze, their faint glow pulsing like veins in a living creature.
Eron stood at the threshold, his gray eyes scanning the forest's edge. Every inch of the Bastion seemed to hum with unseen life, its presence almost daring them to enter. He could feel the Flowlines beneath the ground, their energy stronger here than anywhere else he'd ever been.
"You're quiet again, Kaelis," Sarina said, stepping up beside him. Her sharp voice broke the eerie silence, though it did nothing to lessen the oppressive air. "Not getting cold feet, are you?"
Eron didn't take the bait. "If you have time to talk, you have time to prepare."
"Ha! Look at you, pretending to be all focused," Sarina quipped, rolling her eyes. "I bet you're just waiting for Kieran to lead us."
"I don't wait for anyone," Eron replied evenly, his gaze fixed on the forest.
"Enough," Kieran interrupted, his voice calm but firm. "Keep quiet. The others will hear us."
Eron glanced to the side, spotting another team slipping silently into the shadows. Pyroclan, led by Darian Torrik, moved with loud confidence, their armor clinking softly. Darian's fiery hair stood out even in the gloom.
Further ahead, the Abyssal Tides team moved with precision, their leader Tyris pausing occasionally to consult a glowing map. The faint blue ink shimmered, reacting to the Flowlines in the earth.
"They're tracking the currents," Eron muttered, nodding toward the Abyssal Tides.
"What currents?" Sarina asked, frowning.
"The Flowlines," he said, crouching to trace the faint glowing veins in the dirt. "The scrolls will be near the strongest concentrations of energy."
"So why aren't we following them?" Sarina demanded.
"Because they'll lead us to a dead end," Kieran said, stepping forward. "If they think they're being followed, they'll throw us off. We'll stick to our own path."
"Brilliant," Sarina muttered. "Can't wait to see how that works out."
The Forest's Grasp
The moment they stepped into the Bastion, the air changed. The temperature dropped sharply, the heavy warmth of the village replaced by a bone-chilling cold. The forest floor was soft underfoot, the dirt damp and littered with decaying leaves.
The trees stretched impossibly high, their twisted branches blocking out what little sunlight remained. Glowing fungi clung to their trunks, casting faint blue-green light that danced across the bark. Every now and then, a faint, low hum vibrated through the ground, as though the forest itself was alive.
"Does anyone else feel like... something's breathing?" Sarina whispered, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.
"It's the Flowlines," Eron said. "They connect everything here. The trees, the air, even the ground. That's why it feels alive."
Sarina shivered, pulling her cloak tighter. "Great. So we're walking into a giant, creepy heartbeat. Totally fine."
"Stay focused," Kieran said, his tone sharp. "This place is meant to test us. Don't let it get into your head."
Eron said nothing, but his eyes scanned the shadows. He'd heard the stories—the Bastion wasn't just a test of skill. It was alive, and it had a way of twisting reality, preying on fear and doubt.
The Whispering Haze
As they pushed deeper into the forest, a faint mist began to rise, swirling around their feet like ghostly tendrils. The hum of the Flowlines grew louder, vibrating through the air in irregular pulses.
"Why's the mist glowing?" Sarina asked, her voice tinged with unease.
"It's the Flowline energy," Eron said, crouching to touch the ground. The mist clung to his fingers like smoke, dissipating as he moved his hand. "It's concentrated here. We're getting closer to something."
"Closer to what?" Sarina demanded.
Eron didn't answer. He wasn't entirely sure himself, but the increasing intensity of the energy made him uneasy. It wasn't just strong—it was erratic, like a heartbeat out of rhythm.
"Look," Kieran said suddenly, pointing ahead.
In the distance, a faint light flickered between the trees, its glow faint but unmistakable.
"That has to be one of the scrolls," Sarina said, her tension giving way to excitement. "Finally, some luck."
"Don't rush," Kieran warned, stepping in front of her. "This is too easy. Stay alert."
The Living Trap
As they approached the light, the forest seemed to shift around them. The trees closed in, their twisted branches forming an almost impenetrable barrier. The faint glow of the scroll was just visible through a gap in the roots of a massive tree.
"This has to be it," Sarina said, stepping forward eagerly.
"Wait," Eron said sharply.
"What now?" she snapped, turning to glare at him.
Eron pointed to the ground. The faint glow of the Flowline veins was wrong—too bright, too erratic. And the vines draped across the tree were shifting, moving almost imperceptibly as though they were alive.
"Don't touch anything," Eron said.
"Seriously? It's right there!" Sarina protested.
Before anyone could respond, one of the vines shot out, wrapping around her arm. She screamed, slashing at it with her dagger, but the vine tightened, pulling her toward the tree.
"Sarina!" Kieran shouted, rushing to grab her other arm.
Eron didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, his hand closing around the vine. It was cold and pulsing, like something alive. He focused, channeling the Flowline energy beneath the ground, and the vine recoiled, retreating into the shadows.
Sarina stumbled back, breathing heavily. "What the hell was that?"
"The Bastion doesn't like intruders," Eron said quietly, his gaze fixed on the shadows.
"We need to move," Kieran said, his voice calm but urgent. "This isn't the only trap we'll face."
A Warning in the Darkness
As they pressed deeper into the Bastion, the forest grew darker and colder. The hum of the Flowlines was almost deafening now, vibrating through the air like an ominous melody.
"What did you mean back there?" Sarina asked, glancing nervously at Eron. "About the Bastion not liking us?"
Eron hesitated, his gaze fixed ahead. "The Bastion has rules. It's not just a test—it's alive. If we don't respect it, it will make sure we fail."
"That's comforting," Sarina muttered, gripping her dagger tightly.
Somewhere in the distance, a low growl echoed through the trees. It was deep and guttural, unlike anything Eron had ever heard.
Kieran's hand moved to the hilt of his sword. "Let's hope we don't meet whatever made that sound."
Eron wasn't so sure they wouldn't.
The forest seemed to hold its breath as the trio moved forward. Somewhere in the depths of the Bastion, the scrolls waited—but so did something else, something ancient and unseen.