A Fork in the Road
The sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows over the dirt path as Eryndor and Lysara came to a stop.
Before them stood two roads.
The first was well-trodden, leading straight toward the distant spires of Velmora, a bustling city known for its libraries, warriors, and merchant guilds.
The second was an overgrown, winding path that led into a darkened valley—Kael'Dun.
Even from where they stood, a cold, unnatural wind carried whispers from that direction. A place spoken of in hushed tones. A place where few returned.
Lysara folded her arms. "We should go to Velmora. We need supplies, information—"
Eryndor didn't answer.
Because his gaze was locked onto the path of Kael'Dun.
And he felt it.
A pull. A presence.
Something—someone—was waiting for him there.
---
The Call of the Forgotten
Lysara stepped in front of him, frowning. "Don't even think about it."
Eryndor didn't move.
Lysara's eyes narrowed. "Eryndor."
He exhaled. "There's something in Kael'Dun. Something I need to see."
Lysara scoffed. "Something that will probably kill you, you mean."
He turned to her. "What if it's connected to my past?"
Her expression faltered, and for a moment, she hesitated. "And what if it's a trap?"
"Then I'll deal with it."
Lysara clenched her jaw, clearly frustrated. "Why are you like this?"
Eryndor gave her a tired smile. "It's a habit, I guess."
She groaned. "I should let you walk into that cursed place alone, you know."
"But you won't," he said.
Lysara sighed heavily before finally giving in. "You owe me for this."
Eryndor smirked. "I owe you a lot of things."
"Damn right you do."
And with that, they turned toward the path leading into the unknown.
---
Stepping Into the Unknown
The deeper they went, the more unnatural the air became.
It was as if the land itself was watching.
The trees here were twisted, their bark resembling gnarled faces frozen in silent screams. The very ground felt unstable, shifting beneath their steps like a living thing.
But the worst part was the whispers.
Faint, eerie voices echoed through the valley—voices that seemed to come from the very shadows around them.
Lysara tightened her grip on her staff. "Tell me again why we're doing this?"
Eryndor didn't answer. He was too focused on something else.
A figure stood ahead, barely visible through the mist.
Not moving. Not breathing.
Just waiting.
The whispers grew louder.
And as Eryndor took another step forward, the figure finally spoke.
"You should not have come here."
---
End of Chapter 5.