Dawn came pale and muted, the sun nothing more than a dim coin behind a veil of high mist. The fire had burned down to ash. Eliakim was already awake, rolling up his bedroll with crisp, deliberate movements.
Ezra's shift had ended an hour before, but the memory of that stillness clung to her skin like damp cloth. She glanced toward the north—the trees there stood unnaturally still, their leaves unmoved even by the chill breeze that brushed the rest of the camp.
They set out in single file. The road became less a road and more a suggestion—a strip of packed dirt between thickening grass. Birds grew scarce. Even the insects seemed muted, their usual background hum absent.
By midday, the land began to change. The grass darkened in hue, almost blue-green, and the soil beneath their boots felt strangely soft, as if they were walking on damp sponge rather than earth.
Ezra slowed, her eyes scanning the horizon. "This is it," she murmured. "Emberroot Plains starts here."
The moment she spoke, the Treasure Codex of Imreth—secured in Eliakim's satchel—began to shake.Not a gentle tremor, but a violent, pulsing shudder, as though it were alive and in pain.
Eliakim pulled it free. The book's bindings creaked, its surface hot to the touch. Golden script bled across its cover, shifting too fast for the eye to follow.
Gideon reached instinctively for his weapon. "What's it sensing?"
Ezra stepped closer, frowning. "Not sensing… reacting. Like it's resisting something."
The air thickened. No wind, no rustle—just that same breathing silence she'd felt the night before, now so tangible it pressed against their ears.
Skyling shrieked once, wings flaring, eyes locked to the northeast. Something moves below us.
Without a word, Eliakim shifted their formation. Gideon took point, both blades drawn. Skyling circled above in short, tight loops. Ezra moved to the rear, her staff in one hand and her other hand resting on the pouch of prepared herbs. Eliakim kept the Codex close to his chest, watching the ground as though it might split at any moment.
Every step forward sank slightly, as though the soil sighed beneath their weight.
From somewhere beneath, there came a muffled, drawn-out sound—neither a growl nor a hiss, but something between the two. The Codex pulsed once more, a golden light seeping between its pages like a heartbeat.
Ezra's voice was tight. "We're not alone out here."