Athena followed her gaze, concern flickering across her face. "What's wrong with him?"
Yhan Yhan's gaze flickered momentarily to the group before returning to the forest behind them. It was almost as if the lion was remembering something, something that the rest of them could not. Then, as if guided by instinct, the lion turned and padded toward the edge of the clearing, its movements slow but purposeful.
The group followed, their hearts racing. As they reached the trees where Yhan Yhan had stopped, the lion suddenly stopped, sitting down and letting out a low, mournful growl.
Mathea felt a shiver run down her spine as she stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. "What's happening? What does Yhan Yhan know that we don't?"
It was then that the memories began to flood in, an overwhelming wave of understanding. It wasn't just the forest that had cast a veil over them; it was something more, something deeper—something that had clouded their perception from the very beginning.
Mathea's breath caught in her throat. "It was all a lie. We've been manipulated."
Athena's eyes widened. "Manipulated?"
Jea nodded gravely. "Yes. The forest—the magic—it clouded our minds. The truth was always there, hidden beneath the surface, but it was veiled by an ancient magic."
Mathea closed her eyes, letting the threads of her magic unfurl as she reached out for clarity. Slowly, she began to piece together the story, her senses sharpening as the dark veil lifted.
"The true enemy is older than we thought," Mathea said softly, as if the words were coming from somewhere far away. "And it isn't Lord Anjo. He was just a pawn, a vessel for something far darker. The force that controls him… it is the ancient evil that has haunted this land for centuries. The one who gave Anjo his power."
Jea gasped. "The one who corrupted the Phoenix's magic."
Mathea nodded, a sense of dread creeping over her. "Yes. The one who has been waiting for the perfect time to rise again. And now, it has found its vessel in Lord Anjo."
Suddenly, it all clicked. The veil was gone, and the truth had been revealed.
But the lion's growl cut through their thoughts once again, pulling them back to the present.
"What do we do now?" Athena asked, her voice steady but filled with uncertainty.
Mathea turned to her companions, her resolve hardening. "We have to find this true enemy. We have to stop them before they can finish what they've started. And we can't do it alone. We need to find the Phoenix's eggs. Only then can we destroy this evil once and for all."
With Yhan Yhan leading them through the forest, the group pressed forward, determined to uncover the true face of their enemy and stop the dark force that threatened to destroy everything they had fought for.
Few hours later
Andrei stood at the edge of the clearing, his thoughts swirling in a haze of doubt and regret. The rest of the group had gathered around the glowing embers of their campfire, but he couldn't focus on their conversations, couldn't bring himself to join in. Every word they spoke, every step they took toward their mission, felt more distant to him. His magic was gone. The thread of power that had once defined him was slipping through his fingers like sand, leaving him weak and uncertain. He was no longer the man he had once been—no longer the prince who commanded the respect of his people, who wore his power like a cloak.
He had been reckless, naïve, and now he was paying the price.
A cold wind swept through the trees, sending a shiver through his body as he glanced at the others. Mathea, Jea, and Athena—they all had purpose, strength, and clarity of vision. But him? He had nothing left.
Why am I still here?
His thoughts echoed like a constant whisper in his mind. The words felt like an indictment. He had no magic, no purpose in their mission. He was becoming a liability—a burden on them.
What good was he now?
Andrei's mind wandered back to a time before the journey had started, before the dark forest and the prophecy had overtaken them. He remembered his life, his privileged life, when everything had been handed to him. He had been a prince, raised with a silver spoon in his mouth, his every need attended to, his future laid out for him. But it hadn't been enough.
I wanted more.
He had craved his father's approval, craved power, and it had led him down a path of ambition, one that had led him straight into Mathea's path. The missing princess of the Witch Kingdom. The one person who had the power to make him stronger, to make him worthy in his father's eyes.
But what had he truly wanted? He had sought her out, yes, but not because of some noble cause. No, he had wanted Mathea to be the key to his rise. He wanted her power, her bloodline, and perhaps—he'd told himself—he wanted to protect her. But as he had gotten closer to her, he realized the truth: he had never cared for her the way he should have. He had seen her as a means to an end.
And now… he was nothing without his magic, nothing without his purpose.
Maybe I should leave.
Andrei's gaze flickered to the horizon, where the dark forest loomed. His thoughts spiraled further. If he left now, he could pursue Lord Anjo by himself. He could end this. He could fix his own mess, and perhaps, even regain some of the power he had lost.
He felt a strange emptiness in his chest, like a gaping hole. His pride, his arrogance, everything he had once held dear—had it all been for nothing? He remembered his father's face, stern and disapproving, and he knew deep down that nothing he did would ever be enough to earn that approval.
But Mathea...
Mathea.