The forest was silent, its oppressive weight pressing down on Kael's chest with every step. It wasn't the usual stillness of the wilds—the kind that filled the air with the quiet murmur of life—but something deeper. Something waiting. Kael could feel it, crawling beneath his skin like a shadow he couldn't shake.
The journey through the dense underbrush had been slow, the trees growing closer together as if attempting to trap them. The path was barely visible now, only a few faint markings left by the wanderer in their time before Kael had joined. The ground was uneven, and the air was thick with the smell of moss and damp earth.
"Stay close," the wanderer muttered, their voice low and tense.
Kael did as they instructed, though the unease gnawing at him had little to do with the landscape. His thoughts were preoccupied with the strange sensation that had begun to intensify over the last few days—the feeling of being watched. He couldn't shake the feeling that something or someone was trailing them. It wasn't just the typical watchfulness of the wilds, where danger lurked around every corner. No, this was something different. This was a presence, an energy that felt... wrong.
The wanderer seemed to sense his discomfort, their hand resting lightly on the hilt of their blade as they scanned the path ahead. "The deeper you go, the harder it is to tell where the land ends and the spirits begin," they said quietly, as if speaking to themselves as much as to Kael. "We're getting close. Keep your wits about you."
Kael didn't reply, his thoughts racing. The wilds were known for their strange powers, their ability to twist and shape the world around them. But spirits? He had heard whispers of such things in the bastion, stories of travelers who had ventured too far and never returned. Spirits that twisted the very fabric of reality, weaving illusions, distorting time, and leaving the unwary lost forever.
A crack in the trees ahead made him freeze, and the wanderer motioned for him to be silent. The sound had come from beyond the trees, too far to see clearly but close enough to feel. Kael's pulse quickened. His instincts screamed at him to retreat, to turn back, but there was nowhere to run. He was already deep within the wilds, and whatever was waiting for him here wouldn't let him leave so easily.
The wanderer's expression hardened, and without a word, they pulled their weapon free, their eyes narrowing as they scanned the horizon. "Don't make a sound," they whispered. "If they want us, they'll take us. If they don't, we stay out of their way."
Kael felt the shift in the air, a subtle yet unmistakable change. The trees seemed to close in around them, their branches twisting like claws, and the earth beneath his feet felt less solid, as if it were shifting beneath him. The silence was absolute now, a quiet that rang in his ears, drowning out even the sound of his own breathing.
A rustle from the left, then another from the right, and Kael's heart skipped a beat. Shadows seemed to move between the trees, flickering just out of the corner of his vision. They were here.
"They're closing in," Kael whispered, his voice tight with anxiety. "What are they?"
The wanderer didn't answer immediately. Instead, they turned slowly, scanning their surroundings, their eyes glinting in the dim light that filtered through the canopy. Then, with a sudden, fluid motion, they drew Kael's attention back to the center of the forest. A figure stepped into the clearing, tall and cloaked in a deep, dark robe, its face hidden in shadow.
Kael instinctively gripped his spear tighter, every muscle tensed, ready to strike.
But the figure raised a hand, and the motion was enough to stop Kael in his tracks. The air around them seemed to shimmer, the tension hanging thick like smoke.
"You are not welcome here," the figure said, its voice a low murmur that sent a chill down Kael's spine.
Kael didn't respond, his breath coming in shallow gasps. His mind raced. This wasn't just another beast or wild spirit. This was something... other, something older. The wilds had always been filled with strange forces, but this—this felt like a force of its own, a power that stretched beyond Kael's understanding.
"What are you?" the wanderer demanded, their tone commanding, though there was a hint of uncertainty behind it.
The figure's cloak shifted as it moved forward, the shadows around it rippling. "I am what remains when the wilds forget themselves," it said. "I am the echoes of what was lost. The whispers of those who fell to the madness of the land. And you, child of the wilds, are my next... visitor."
Kael's grip on his spear tightened, but the wanderer raised a hand to stop him. "Visitor?" Kael echoed, his voice shaky. "What do you mean?"
The figure's voice dropped lower, almost a whisper, yet it felt as if it were reverberating inside Kael's very skull. "You are tethered here, boy. The wilds have marked you. Your blood calls to them, and they answer. You will never escape them."
Kael took a step back, his heart hammering in his chest. He wanted to run, to escape, but he knew there was no way out. He had walked too far into the wilds, embraced too much of its power. Now, it was a part of him, whether he liked it or not.
"Then what do you want with me?" Kael demanded, trying to hold onto whatever courage he had left.
The figure tilted its head slightly, as if amused. "I want nothing from you, child. I simply seek to remind you. The wilds never forget. They claim what they wish, and they discard what they do not need."
Kael's pulse quickened, a sense of dread curling in his stomach. "Then why are you here? Why now?"
The figure's face remained hidden, but Kael could feel its eyes on him. It was as if it could see directly into his soul, reading the parts of him that even he didn't understand.
"I am here because the wilds do not need you anymore," the figure said, its tone almost pitying. "They are calling for something greater. And when they are done with you, you will become nothing more than a shadow. A whisper lost to time."
Kael opened his mouth to protest, but the wanderer stepped forward, their voice harsh and low. "Enough. If the wilds are done with him, let them try. But I will not let you take him so easily."
The figure's laughter was soft but chilling. "You do not understand. You are already too late."
The air around them seemed to warp and twist, the world itself bending like a mirror cracking under pressure. Kael's mind reeled as the world around him seemed to unravel, the trees warping, the shadows shifting.
"You will all see," the figure whispered. "The end is near."
And with that, the figure stepped backward into the shadows, its form dissolving into the very fabric of the wilds. The silence returned, heavier now, filled with the weight of its promise.
Kael stood frozen, his breath catching in his throat. The feeling of being watched returned in full force, and he felt the wilds around him growing restless. Something was changing. Something was coming, and he wasn't sure if he was ready.
The wanderer turned to Kael, their face grim. "The wilds are shifting," they said quietly. "And so must we."
Kael nodded, though he didn't understand it all. He only knew one thing for certain: the wilds were calling, and no matter how hard he fought, they were not done with him yet.