But the warlock's price would be steep. Andrei knew this. He just didn't know if he was prepared to pay for it.
As they ventured deeper, the forest seemed to come alive. The ground beneath their feet pulsed faintly, like the rhythmic breathing of some great, slumbering beast. The trees whispered in a language none of them understood, their branches writhing like serpents.
"This place isn't natural," Jea muttered, clutching her sword tightly.
"You don't say," Juan replied, his usual humor absent as he scanned the surroundings.
A sudden snap of a branch made everyone freeze. Janna, the tiny dragon let out a sharp hiss, and Yhan Yhan bared her teeth, her growl low and menacing.
"What was that?" Athena whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Probably nothing," Andrei said, though his hand hovered near his dagger. "Let's keep moving."
But as they walked, Mathea noticed something strange. The shadows seemed to follow them, growing denser the further they went. She whispered a silent prayer to the gods, her grip tightening on the sundial.
The group's tension was palpable. Each step felt heavier, each breath more labored. They didn't speak much, their unease growing with every passing moment.
Andrei kept his focus ahead, his jaw clenched. He couldn't afford to show weakness, not now. Not when they were so close.
"Mathea," Jea whispered, falling into step beside her. "Do you trust him? Andrei, I mean."
Mathea hesitated, her eyes flicking toward Andrei's back. "I trust that he's hiding something. But for now, we have no choice but to follow."
Jea frowned but said no more.
As the forest grew darker, Andrei's thoughts raced. He knew the warlock was near. The air seemed charged with a malevolent energy, and the shadows felt heavier, more deliberate. He could almost hear the warlock's voice whispering promises of power and warning of the price.
Somewhere in these cursed woods was the one who knew of Lord Anjo—the dark sider who held secrets they needed. The urgency of their mission kept them moving, though the path seemed to close in around them with every step.
"Stop!" Mathea's sharp voice broke the silence. She raised a hand, her gaze fixed on the twisted tree ahead. Its massive roots curled like claws, its bark slick with a sheen of something too dark to be mere dew. "This is it—the entrance. We go in together, no less than a second apart. Understand?"
Everyone nodded, a grim determination in their eyes. They joined hands, forming a chain against the encroaching dread.
But as they stepped forward, Andrei stumbled. A nearly invisible log caught his foot, and he fell a second behind the group.
"Shit," he muttered, catching himself against the tree's trunk. The bark was warm, almost alive, and the viscous fluid seeping from it scalded his hand. He yanked it back with a hiss, shaking off the burning sensation.
The others, unaware of his misstep, continued forward, their surroundings beginning to blur and shift.
Unbeknownst to them, what they were now seeing was not the forest but their own fears manifesting as a cruel mirage.
Few minutes later, they halted when Athena blurted, "Bathroom break. I'm not holding it anymore."
Mathea sighed, standing at the edge of the group's faint torchlight. "Make it quick," she muttered, scanning the shadows. The massive vines of the nearby trees swayed slightly, as though alive. The wild canopies above loomed, their dense leaves blotting out any trace of the sky.
When Athena returned, visibly shaken by the oppressive quiet, the group resumed their march. Mathea took up one of the torches, its flickering light carving out a fragile sanctuary in the dark.
The trees grew more grotesque the deeper they ventured. Their branches twisted upward like anguished arms, the knots in their bark resembling faces frozen in silent screams. Ghostly strands of moss hung from the limbs, dripping with condensation. One thick pearl of rain clung to a strand, its weight seemingly eternal until it fell, splattering on the rotting ground with a sound too loud for its size.
"This place gets worse by the second," Athena muttered, glancing nervously at the warped tree knots.
"You're not wrong," Jea replied, her voice tight. "It feels like this forest is alive—and it's angry."
Athena shuddered. "It's more than that. It's… infecting us." Her voice dropped, as though she feared the forest could hear her. "I feel it in my chest, like it's breathing with us, waiting for us to slip up."
As the hours passed, the forest grew darker still. The air seemed heavier, the silence louder. A single beam of light pierced the canopy, casting a crimson hue over the misty ground.
Athena stopped abruptly, her breath quickening. "This place is scarier than any nightmare I've ever had," she whispered. Her voice trembled as her eyes darted to the gnarled roots beneath her feet. "And I've had plenty of nightmares."
Jea glanced back at her, concern flashing in her eyes. "Keep it together, Athena. If we lose focus now, the forest will swallow us whole."
"I'm fine," Athena snapped, though her hand gripped her weapon tightly. "It's just—this place feels like it's alive. And it hates us."
"It probably does," Andrei said, his tone unnervingly calm. He flexed his burned hand, hiding it from the others. "But fear won't help. Stay sharp."
Ahead, the path split into three directions. Mathea halted, her torch casting flickering shadows that danced like specters.
"Which way?" Juan asked, his voice strained.
Before Mathea could respond, a low chuckle echoed through the trees. It was deep and guttural, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once.
The group froze, their hands reaching for their weapons. From the shadows, a figure emerged—a tall, cloaked man with eyes that glowed faintly red.
"I've been waiting for you," the man said, his voice smooth and filled with malice.
Mathea's grip tightened on the sundial, her heart pounding. "Who are you?"
The man smirked. "Someone who knows what you seek. But whether I'll help you…" His gaze swept over them, lingering on Andrei. "…remains to be seen."
Andrei stepped forward, his jaw clenched. "Then let's talk."
The group exchanged uneasy glances but stayed silent. They knew this figure was their only hope to unravel the mysteries of Lord Anjo—and the price of his help would likely be steep.
The cloaked man's smirk deepened as he surveyed the group, his crimson eyes glowing like embers in the suffocating darkness. His presence was unnerving—he didn't seem entirely human, but neither was he fully of the dark magic that clung to the forest.