Arya's footsteps were barely audible beneath the rustling leaves. The Silverlight Forest felt more alive than any forest he had ever imagined. Towering trees stretched endlessly into the sky, their shimmering leaves emitting a soft glow that pulsed like the breath of a living creature.
The light wasn't a reflection of the moons—no, that wasn't possible. It was as if these trees had a source of illumination within them, radiating a slow, rhythmic glow.
Ahead of him, Lira moved with silent grace, her steps light as air. Though she appeared relaxed, Arya could sense the tension in her posture, as if she were prepared for danger at any moment.
"So… where are we going?" Arya finally broke the silence after minutes of walking.
Lira didn't look back. "To a safe place."
Arya frowned. "Safe from what?"
This time, she turned slightly, her expression unreadable. "From whatever lurks in the darkness."
A chill ran down Arya's spine. So far, he hadn't seen anything overtly threatening in this forest, but the tone of Lira's voice was enough to keep him on edge.
"What exactly is in the dark?" he asked cautiously.
Lira remained silent for a few seconds before answering, "Shadows."
Arya raised an eyebrow. "Shadows? You mean—"
"Shh."
Lira suddenly stopped, raising a hand in a silent command for Arya to be still.
Arya obeyed immediately, holding his breath.
The wind blew gently, but this time, something was different. A whisper, soft and eerie, wove itself through the trees.
Lira turned, her gaze sharp. "Don't move."
Arya remained frozen, his mind racing to grasp what was happening. Then, he saw it.
Among the shifting shadows of the trees, something moved. Something without a definite form.
The darkness pulsed, shifting and gliding across the ground before creeping up the tree trunks. There were no footsteps, no solid shape—just a thick black mist flickering in and out of the silver glow from the trees.
The air turned ice-cold.
Lira's hand tightened around the dagger at her waist. "They've found us."
Arya swallowed hard. "Who are they?"
Lira didn't answer. Instead, she moved swiftly, grabbing Arya and pulling him behind a massive tree trunk.
"Listen," she whispered sharply. "No matter what happens, don't let those shadows touch you."
Arya nodded, though his mind was a whirlwind of questions.
Then, from the depths of the darkness, something emerged that made his blood run cold.
Two glowing red eyes pierced through the void.
The creature had no face, only a shifting, indistinct mass of darkness, its fiery eyes flickering like embers. It moved without sound, floating eerily, yet its presence carried a suffocating weight that pressed into Arya's bones.
The shadows crept closer.
Lira's grip on her dagger tightened. "I'll distract them. You—"
Suddenly, the shadows lunged.
"SWOOSH!"
Lira leaped aside, dodging the attack with inhuman agility. Arya, still rooted to the spot, barely reacted in time as one of the shadowy figures shot toward him.
His back slammed against the tree trunk, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
"I have to do something!" he thought, his mind racing.
But what? He had no weapon. He didn't even know if these things could be fought conventionally.
Lira twisted midair, slashing her dagger through one of the creatures. A greenish light flared from the blade, cutting through the darkness, causing the creature to let out a sharp, hissing screech.
But it wasn't enough. The shadow didn't die—it merely recoiled before reforming and attacking again.
Arya bit his lip. He had to help. But how?
Then, something inside him whispered.
"Read."
Arya froze.
The voice wasn't external—it came from within him. A language he didn't recognize yet somehow understood.
Without thinking, he fixed his gaze on the shadows and spoke the words:
"Narabhan Eldiora khasanar."
At that moment, the world shifted.
The light from the trees pulsed brighter. The air vibrated, and suddenly, Arya saw—not just the creatures, but their very structure.
Thin lines of light traced through the darkness, forming patterns around the shadows. Weak points. Movement paths. The very essence of their existence laid bare before him.
Lira turned, her expression startled. "What are you—"
Arya didn't hear her. His body moved instinctively.
He grabbed a sturdy branch from the ground, and somehow, he knew exactly where to strike.
With a swift motion, he swung at the weakest point of the nearest shadow.
The creature let out a shriek—louder, more piercing than before. Its form trembled violently before dissolving into the air.
Lira's eyes widened.
Arya stood there, panting, his hands shaking.
"What… what did you just do?" Lira's voice was barely above a whisper.
Arya looked down at his trembling hands.
He had no idea how to answer.
But one thing was clear—something inside him had awakened.
And he had no idea whether it was a blessing or a curse.