The forest had gone quiet again.
Just the gentle drip of rainwater echoed among the soaked branches, and the soft squelch of Eryndor's boots marked each careful step on the muddy path. Mist curled around the trees, wrapping the world in pale silver. The battle, the screams, the rush of adrenaline, it all felt distant now, like echoes fading behind the fog. Almost… unreal.
Eryndor stopped, tilted his head back. Through the broken canopy, a slice of pale sky peeked through the drifting clouds. He inhaled deeply, letting the cold air sting his lungs before exhaling a long, steady breath. God, he needed this.
"We should rest here for a while," he said quietly.
Luca nodded, but his movements were sluggish. His clothes were damp, his hair plastered to his forehead, and the faint tremor in his hands gave away the exhaustion he wouldn't admit to. "Yeah… I don't think my legs can take another step."
Eryndor allowed himself a faint smile. "Then sit before you fall."
Luca dropped beside a moss-covered rock, clutching his cloak tighter. Eryndor stayed standing for a moment, scanning the forest, listening. No sign of pursuit. No rustle of steel, no whisper of magic. Just the whispering drizzle fading into silence.
He finally sat across from Luca, setting his weapon beside him. The runes etched along its blade, once glowing, were now dim. Even the damn sword seemed tired.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The world was quiet except for the distant call of a night bird and the soft, rhythmic patter of drops falling from the leaves.
Luca broke the silence first. "Do you ever wonder if we're doing the right thing?"
Eryndor looked at him. "What do you mean?"
"I mean… all this. The fights, the risks, the secrets. Sometimes I feel like we're just running in circles. Like we're chasing something that doesn't want to be found."
Eryndor's gaze dropped to the mud at his feet. The sky's reflection trembled in the puddles. "Maybe that's what makes it worth finding."
Luca huffed softly, almost a laugh. "You always have an answer ready."
"Not always." Eryndor's voice was quiet, sincere. "Sometimes I just talk so I don't have to think."
That earned a small, tired smile from Luca. "That's… fair."
A light breeze passed through, bringing the scent of wet earth and pine. The forest was starting to breathe again. Small insects crawled out from under the bark, droplets sliding down their wings, and somewhere deep in the woods, water began to trickle through a stream.
Eryndor leaned back against the tree, his shoulders relaxing for the first time since dawn. The weight he carried, of what he'd seen, what he'd done, felt a little lighter under the muted gray light.
He watched Luca out of the corner of his eye. He had closed his eyes, his head tilted slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips. There was something fragile about that expression, something unguarded. Eryndor hadn't realized how much he'd missed seeing it.
For a long time, he just watched the rise and fall of Luca's chest. Then, without thinking, he murmured, "You did good back there."
Luca's eyes opened slowly. "You think so?"
"I know so," Eryndor said, his tone steady. "You didn't run. You didn't freeze. You stood your ground."
A quiet moment passed. The mist shifted, curling between them like a slow-moving ghost. Then Luca chuckled weakly. "You're saying that like I wasn't terrified."
Eryndor's lips curved slightly. "Being terrified doesn't make you weak. It means you had something to lose."
Luca blinked, the words sinking in. His fingers tightened around the edge of his cloak, and for a brief second, something flickered in his eyes, something raw, almost… painful. "And what about you? What do you have to lose?"
The question hung in the air.
Eryndor didn't answer right away. His gaze drifted toward the treetops again, where droplets still fell in rhythmic silence. He thought of the faces that haunted him, the ones he couldn't save, the promise that had dragged him down this endless road.
Finally, he said quietly, "I'm still figuring that out."
Luca nodded slowly, not pushing. He understood.
The rain had stopped completely now. The sound of dripping water grew rarer, and shafts of pale sunlight began to pierce the mist. The light caught the edges of Eryndor's hair, turning it faintly gold. Luca watched him for a moment, his thoughts unreadable.
"You know," Luca said at last, his voice soft, "when I first met you, I thought you were… cold. Like nothing could touch you."
Eryndor arched an eyebrow. "And now?"
"Now I think you're just… really good at pretending."
Eryndor gave a low, amused hum. "That's one way to put it."
A small silence followed. Then Luca shifted closer, his shoulder brushing Eryndor's arm lightly. The contact was brief, almost accidental, but it sent a quiet pulse through the air between them. Eryndor didn't pull away.
Somewhere far above, a crow cawed, and the forest seemed to stir from its trance. The calm wouldn't last. They both knew it. But for now, surrounded by the lingering rain and the smell of wet earth, it was enough.
Luca exhaled softly. "We should find a way out of this forest before nightfall."
Eryndor nodded, but his gaze lingered on the faint line of sunlight breaking through the trees.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "But for now… let's rest a little longer."
And so they did.
For the first time in days, neither of them spoke of the road ahead, of what waited beyond the mist. For a fleeting moment, there was peace.
The rain had long stopped, but the scent of wet soil still hung in the air. When the clouds finally thinned, the forest began to show its colors again, the moss-covered roots, the shimmer of water droplets on the leaves, the faint trail that led deeper into the woods.
Eryndor rose first. His movements were silent, deliberate, but the weight in his steps betrayed the fatigue of the past days. Luca followed, adjusting the strap of his pack, his eyes scanning their surroundings. The mist had started to lift, revealing narrow beams of sunlight cutting through the trees like fractured glass.
"Looks like it's clearing up," Luca said, his voice low but lighter than before.
Eryndor nodded. "The sky's opening. That means the forest's edge isn't far."
They started walking again, the mud sucking softly at their boots. Their steps were unhurried, as if neither wanted to break the fragile calm. It was strange, after all the chaos and blood, silence now felt heavier than battle.
At one point, the trail narrowed into a slope, bordered by roots twisted like veins. Luca slipped, catching himself on a branch. Eryndor reached out without thinking, steadying him. Their hands met briefly, warm despite the dampness.
Luca blinked, startled. "Thanks."
Eryndor said nothing. He just nodded before stepping ahead, but the warmth on his palm lingered.
They walked until the trees began to thin. The air changed, lighter, carrying the faint scent of smoke and bread. Luca noticed it first.
"Do you smell that?"
Eryndor's eyes narrowed. "Civilization."
Soon, they reached a clearing. Beyond it lay a small settlement, stone cottages, smoke rising from chimneys, the sound of distant chatter carried by the wind. It wasn't on any map Eryndor knew.
Luca exhaled in relief. "Finally… people."
But Eryndor's instincts, honed by years of surviving traps and illusions, screamed caution. He watched the settlement for a long moment before speaking.
"Stay close. We observe before we enter."
They moved along the edge of the clearing, keeping to the trees. From a distance, the villagers looked ordinary, farmers tending fields, children playing near a well. But something felt… off. Too quiet.
Luca frowned. "Looks normal enough."
"Maybe that's the problem," Eryndor murmured.
Before Luca could answer, a faint hum rippled through the air. The ground trembled, just enough to unsettle the birds. Eryndor's hand went to his weapon. His eyes darted to the horizon.
From behind the cottages, a shimmer of light pulsed, a faint blue wave, almost invisible. Magic. And not the harmless kind.
Luca stiffened. "What was that?"
Eryndor's voice dropped. "A barrier. Someone's hiding something here."
Before they could decide what to do, a soft voice came from behind them.
"You shouldn't be here."
They turned.
A young man stood among the trees, barely older than them, with silver hair and a calm gaze. His clothes were too clean, too precise for this place.
Eryndor straightened slowly. "And who are you supposed to be?"
The stranger smiled faintly. "The one keeping this village alive."
His words hung heavy in the mist. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then, the man raised his hand. The hum of energy flared, and runes lit up beneath the forest floor, spreading in a circle around them.
Luca's eyes widened. "It's a trap!"
Light erupted, blinding and white.
Eryndor reacted instantly, drawing his blade and channeling his energy. The runes faltered, but not fast enough. The world twisted, the ground shifted, and then, everything went black.
When Eryndor opened his eyes, the world had changed.
He stood on stone. A dim corridor stretched ahead, lit by torches. Luca lay nearby, unconscious but breathing. The hum of magic filled the air.
Eryndor knelt, checking Luca for injuries, relief washing through him when he found none. Then, from the darkness, came the familiar voice.
"Welcome, wanderers," the stranger said, his voice echoing. "You've stepped into the sanctuary of the forgotten."
Eryndor rose, his eyes narrowing. "What is this place?"
The answer came, soft yet chilling.
"A place where truth and memory blur. And if you wish to leave…"
The man's tone shifted, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Then you'll have to remember what you've chosen to forget."
Eryndor's grip tightened on his weapon.
Whatever peace the rain had brought… was gone.