The carriage creaked to a stop, jolting slightly as the wheels sank into the soft, moss-covered ground. I leaned out the window, pushing the curtain aside with gloved fingers, and stared up at the towering structure ahead.
The magic tower loomed like a shadow ripped from the earth—black stone, impossibly tall, with spires that twisted unnaturally into the sky. Everything about it felt wrong. The trees around us were gnarled and hunched like old men whispering curses. Even the air was too still, too heavy.
I stepped out onto the forest floor, my boots sinking just slightly into the wet moss. The scent of old magic filled my lungs—thick, metallic, and ancient. Nyx padded silently to my side, his form shifting from mist to flesh, and back again. Silver eyes scanned the jungle, then flicked to me.
This place was unnerving. Gloom hung over it like a curse no one had bothered to lift.
"I guess… those books were right," I muttered, half to myself.
