After walking a little further through the snow-covered woods, the howling wind finally began to quiet. The snowfall softened to gentle flakes drifting lazily from the sky.
Astra came to a sudden stop, her eyes lighting up as they landed on two massive trees standing side by side. Unlike the others, these trees were ancient thicker, taller, with bark almost silver from the frost. Their branches stretched out wide and high, heavily blanketed in snow, and delicate spider webs shimmered between them like threads of glass, catching the faint moonlight.
"I remember these trees," Astra said, a faint note of excitement in her voice. "We're close. I took the left path that day… to that tree." She pointed to the left one.
Daita narrowed his eyes, scanning the trees and the forest around them. As he stepped toward the path Astra pointed at, something caught his attention. He paused, turning slowly to look behind him.
The tree on the right its size, its shape, even the way the snow clung to its limbs looked exactly like the one on the left. He turned again and looked down the path between them.
It wasn't just the trees. The landscape on either side mirrored itself perfectly. The curve of the roots, the arch of a nearby branch, the broken log half-buried in the snow—it was all the same.
It's like they were walking between two mirrors till now. Everything was identical.
Astra, noticing Daita had stopped walking, turned back and called out, "Are you not coming? Perhaps you got scared now?"
Daita scoffed, brushing snow from his shoulder. "Scared? Me? The word should be scared of me." He strode forward with a smirk. "Let's keep going. I can now clearly smell that scent. It's close."
They continued on, following the narrow path between the twin trees. But as they ventured deeper, the air grew thicker, heavier—not with mist, but with something more subtle. The scent of sweet flowers still lingered faintly, but now it was tangled with something sharper, more metallic.
The spider webs became denser. At first, they draped softly across low-hanging branches, delicate and shimmering. But soon they were everywhere—strung from tree to tree, crisscrossing their path like veils.
Astra raised her arm to brush one aside—and immediately winced. "Ow!" she hissed, pulling her sleeve back to see a thin red scratch across her skin.
Daita stepped in front of her, examining the web she'd touched. "These aren't normal webs," he muttered. "They're thin as threads but strong as blades… and sticky too."
He tried to pull one apart with his fingers, only to feel the strands resist and snap with a sound like a taut wire breaking.
"They're not just traps," he said grimly. "They're warning signs." He looked around, eyes narrowed. "We've stepped into something's territory."
Daita glanced around warily, the sharp strands of web still lingering in the air. Astra, eyes narrowed, slowly pointed behind the trees toward a cluster of large, snow-covered bushes.
"I think… there's something behind there," she said. "Maybe it's the flower."
Daita followed her finger, squinting through the webbed haze and snow. "Alright," he nodded. "Let's check it out, but stay behind me."
He stepped forward cautiously, slicing a few of the silver strands with a short blade he drew from his belt. Astra trailed just behind him, eyes darting between the looming trees and shifting shadows.
They moved carefully past the thick bushes, snow crunching underfoot—until, suddenly, the sound stopped.
Both of them paused.
Astra looked down. "There's no snow?"
Daita frowned and stepped ahead.
Just past the bush line, it was as if they'd stepped into a completely different realm. The snow was gone entirely. The ground was lush and green, soft moss and grass carpeting the earth. Dozens of flowers in vibrant shades of violet, gold, crimson, and white bloomed in the open field, swaying gently in the still air. Even the trees here were different smooth, dark trunks, their leaves wide and luminous, catching the faint moonlight.
"The air… even the air smells different," Astra whispered, taking a hesitant step forward.
Daita didn't answer immediately. He was staring ahead, brow furrowed. "This… this isn't natural," he said quietly. "It's like we crossed into another piece of the mountain entirely.
Astra stepped slowly into the clearing, her boots brushing against soft moss and wild grass instead of snow. Her breath caught as she looked around the whole area was blooming in vibrant, rich colors shimmered beneath the moonlight, and the air carried a heady, sweet fragrance unlike anything in the frozen parts of the mountain.
It was almost unreal so alive, so out of place.
Her eyes swept over the flowers, and something inside her stirred. A flicker of memory.
It reminded her of that night before the honeycomb disaster. Before the smoke, the bees, the chaos and the mist. Before it all led to Kriya.
Kriya…? she whispered, her voice barely a breath as the name escaping her lips like a lost memory surfacing.
Just then, Daita crouched down ahead, inspecting one flower after another with quiet intensity turned slightly.
"Did you say something?"
Astra blinked, pulled from her thoughts. She quickly shook her head, brushing her hair behind her ear. "It's not here," she said, stepping forward and lifting her arm to point. "It's there. Look—on that tree. The single one."
Daita turned his head quickly. His eyes followed her hand—and then he saw it.
A tall, slender tree stood apart from the rest, Unlike the others, it was the only tree cloaked in snow, its bark almost silver under the crescent moon. And at its base bloomed a single flower against the cold, delicate and untouched, A white bloom with delicate petals, and among them, one that shimmered faintly gold. The scent was stronger now, clear and undeniable.
Daita narrowed his eyes and whispered, "That's it...The Night of the Snow Blossom."
Daita quickly moved toward the snow-covered tree, eyes locked on the golden shimmer of the rare bloom. But just as he was about to step forward, something made him pause. A strange weight filled the air, thick and tense—like a breath being held too long.
He narrowed his eyes, scanning the path ahead. His instincts screamed at him. He took a careful step back. But Astra, seeing the path ahead looking clear and the flower within reach, didn't hesitate and stepped toward the tree.
"Astra, stop!" Daita yelled, voice slicing through the air.
She turned sharply at the call, but it was too late. Her foot had already crossed the line.
Her body jolted to a stop mid-step, as if something invisible had snapped shut around her. For a split second, everything was still. Then shimmer flickered around her limbs and torso, and slowly, almost like a spell revealing itself, fine silver lines began to glow stretching out everywhere from tree to tree.
Astra's eyes widened. "What is this…?" she whispered, her eyes darting around. The once invisible threads now shimmered with a metallic glint, forming a complex web pattern all around her.
The web came into full view now, strands crisscrossing in delicate but deadly patterns. She was suspended at the center, tangled in its grasp. She pulled once, sharply, and a metallic hum filled the air as the threads vibrated in response.
"Oh no…" she breathed, realization dawning.
She twisted, trying to slip free, but the more she struggled, the worse it got. The web pulled tighter, the strings groaning with a sharp metallic vibration clinging to her with sticky strength.
Daita looked at her struggling, then sighed deeply and shouted, "Stop! Don't move anymore! You'll turn into pieces—those threads are sharper than blades!"
"What?!" Astra snapped, frozen in place. "Then what am I supposed to do? Hang here like yesterday's laundry?!"
"Just wait! Let me try something."
Daita carefully stepped closer, pulling a sharp knife from his waistband. He approached the nearest thread and pressed the blade against it only for the edge to screech uselessly, leaving not even a scratch.
Astra blinked. "Was that… supposed to do something?"
He frowned. "It usually does."
"So, you can't cut it?"
"No. It's not working," he admitted, putting the knife back.
"Try harder!" she hissed, flailing slightly before freezing again when the web gave another sharp twang.
"Stop flapping like a bird caught in a flute string! You want to summon the thing that built this?"
"Right?!" Astra snapped. "Which is that thing that even built this! Where is it—that spider! I'll stomp on it once I find it!"
Daita pressed his fingers to his temple, muttering under his breath, "Why did I even bring you here…"
"Where is it!" Astra shouted again, wriggling in frustration. But just as the last word left her lips, her eyes slowly widened—her mouth stayed open but the rest of the sentence died on her tongue. Her throat bobbed as she nervously swallowed.
Daita furrowed his brows, confused by the sudden silence. "What? What now—"
Then he saw where she was looking just above and behind him. He turned his head slowly, following her gaze.
There, descending like a pale nightmare, was a massive white spider its body as big as a snow bear, eight spindly legs curling as it hovered upside-down in the air. Its six beady eyes blinked in eerie unison, while venom slowly dripped from its curved white fangs onto the snowy ground below, hissing as it sizzled through the frost.
Daita's gaze sharpened instantly. His hand moved on reflex. He pulled his knife and lunged toward the creature, slashing upward.
But the spider was faster it jerked back with unnatural speed, rising higher and vanishing into the white canopy above.
Daita landed hard into the flower bed whirled around, scanning. "Where did it—"
"Daita…!"