The journey away from the cottage was silent, save for the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant cries of unseen creatures. Zaedric walked beside Deyvar, his mind still caught in the weight of the revelation from the previous night. Aetherbrand. The word echoed in his thoughts, filling him with equal parts dread and curiosity.
Lyria rode on Deyvar's shoulders, her small hands gripping his head as she giggled softly at the sway of his steps. For her, this was an adventure. For Zaedric, it was something else entirely, a step into the unknown, a path with no clear destination.
Deyvar led them deeper into the wilderness, navigating the dense forest with the ease of someone who had lived there for years. Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy, casting fragmented patterns on the ground. The forest should have felt peaceful, but to Zaedric, it felt like the trees themselves were watching, whispering in a language only they could understand.
"How far are we going?" Zaedric finally asked.
Deyvar glanced at him but didn't slow his pace. "Far enough to be beyond their reach. We'll head toward Nytherys."
Zaedric stopped in his tracks. "Nytherys? You can't be serious."
Deyvar turned to face him, his expression unreadable. "I am."
"Nytherys is cursed," Zaedric said, lowering his voice despite the emptiness around them. "People say time twists there. That those who enter don't return."
Deyvar sighed, shifting Lyria slightly on his shoulders. "That's what people say. And yet, I have been there before."
Zaedric narrowed his eyes. "And you made it out?"
Deyvar smirked. "Clearly."
Zaedric exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Why there of all places?"
"Because it's the last place they'd look for us," Deyvar replied. "And if you want answers about Aetherbrand, that's where we'll find them."
A chill ran down Zaedric's spine. He had spent his life avoiding the unknown, keeping to the safety of what was familiar. But that safety was gone. Burned to ashes along with Varethia.
Lyria yawned, resting her head against Deyvar's. "Are we going to see ghosts?"
Deyvar chuckled. "Maybe. But I doubt they'll be scarier than your brother."
Zaedric shot him a glare, but there was no real anger behind it. Just exhaustion.
They pressed on, deeper into the forest, toward the shadowed path that led to Nytherys. Toward whatever fate awaited them in the land where time itself was said to unravel.
The deeper they ventured, the more the world around them seemed to shift. The air grew dense, charged with an energy that made Zaedric's skin prickle. The trees, once towering sentinels of green, took on gnarled, twisted shapes, their branches arching like skeletal fingers toward the sky. The ground beneath their feet softened, as though the very earth was reluctant to let them pass.
Zaedric stole a glance at Deyvar. The man's usual easy confidence had not wavered, but there was something in his eyes a quiet tension that had not been there before.
"This place feels wrong," Zaedric muttered.
Deyvar nodded. "That means we're close."
Lyria clung to Deyvar's shoulders, her small body pressing tight against him. "I don't like it here."
Zaedric reached out, squeezing her hand. "We'll be alright." He wasn't sure if he believed it himself.
They pressed forward, each step taking them deeper into the unknown. Shadows stretched unnaturally long, shifting without a clear light source. The forest felt alive not with creatures, but with something else. A presence. Watching. Waiting.
Then, a whisper. Faint, barely audible. A voice that wasn't there.
Zaedric stopped. "Did you hear that?"
Deyvar didn't respond immediately. His hand went to his dagger. "Keep moving."
Another whisper, this time louder. A name. Zaedric.
The sound sent an icy chill down his spine. He spun, searching for the source, but found nothing but the endless stretch of twisted trees.
Then the forest moved.
Branches curled inward, shifting like the ribs of some enormous beast. The path behind them shrank, swallowed by the writhing mass of darkness. The trees no longer stood still, they breathed.
"Run." Deyvar's voice was low, urgent.
Zaedric didn't hesitate. He grabbed Lyria's hand, and together they sprinted forward, deeper into the abyss of Nytherys. The whispers grew into a cacophony, voices overlapping, hissing secrets he didn't understand. The trees clawed at them, unseen forces dragging at their limbs, slowing their steps.
A sudden force slammed into Zaedric, knocking him off balance. He hit the ground hard, the breath forced from his lungs. Above him, the shadows coalesced, forming something almost human but wrong. Twisted limbs, too many fingers, hollow, depthless eyes staring straight into him.
It reached for him.
Zaedric struggled, pushing himself back. His heart pounded, but then a flash of steel. Deyvar's blade struck true, cutting through the apparition. It shrieked, dissolving into the air like smoke in the wind.
Zaedric scrambled to his feet. "What was that?"
Deyvar's jaw was tight. "A shade."
Zaedric swallowed hard. "Is that what waits for us in Nytherys?"
Deyvar didn't answer immediately. He turned, staring into the shifting forest ahead. "No," he said at last. "That was just the beginning."
And with that, they pressed on, deeper into the nightmare that awaited.