Morning came soft and hazy, the scent of dew mingling with faint smoke from the night's dying fires. The village, still heavy with the remnants of celebration, slept deeply—save for a few who stirred to sweep or fetch water.
Loyed sat at the edge of the lake, where the water gleamed like liquid glass beneath the rising sun. A faint breeze rippled its surface, scattering mirrored fragments of sky. His reflection blinked back at him—tired, but calm.
He exhaled slowly. "Guess peace never lasts too long, huh?"
Behind him came footsteps—light, measured. Charlotte approached with a basket of herbs, her hair catching the dawn's gold. "You're up early. And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Too quiet," he said, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "Kinda weird after all that noise last night."
She sat beside him, dipping her fingers into the cool water. "The lake feels different today. Like it's… waiting for something."
Loyed tilted his head, amused. "You always talk like that?"
She shrugged, smiling. "Maybe. I just pay attention." Her tone softened. "You're planning to cross it, aren't you? The forest on the other side."
Loyed didn't answer right away. The wind stirred again, carrying the faint cry of distant birds. Then, quietly: "Yeah. There's something about that place. It's been calling to me since I got here. But honestly?" He smirked. "I also just want real meat. Aren't you tired of rabbit stew every night?"
Charlotte's smile faded. "It's dangerous. Even hunters avoid it."
"That's what makes it interesting." He rose, brushing off his hands. "Don't worry. I'll just look around. Might even find something useful for the village."
Charlotte stood too, eyes narrowing. "Then I'm coming with you."
He blinked. "What?"
"You heard me." She crossed her arms. "If you're going to do something reckless, someone has to make sure you come back in one piece."
Loyed sighed, but the corner of his mouth curved upward. "You really don't listen, do you?"
"I could say the same to you," she said softly.
A pause—then his quiet laugh. "Fine. But if we run into anything crazy, you're the one doing the running."
Charlotte smiled, the morning light catching in her eyes. "Deal."
The water of Lake Euphoria was cool against their bare feet as Loyed and Charlotte stepped into the small, weathered boat. The vessel creaked beneath them, sending gentle ripples across the mirror-like surface. Mist hovered low over the lake, curling around their ankles and swallowing the distant shore.
Loyed gripped the oars, dipping them with practiced ease. "Easy… don't want to tip it before we even reach the forest," he muttered.
Charlotte clutched her satchel, eyes darting through the fog. "It's… eerily quiet. Too quiet."
"That's how it usually is before something tries to eat you," Loyed said, smirking faintly.
The wind shifted, carrying a scent—earthy, wet, and faintly sweet. The perfume of untouched wilderness.
Charlotte shivered, not from cold. "This forest… it feels alive. Like it's watching us."
"Good," Loyed said, his voice turning serious. "Then we'll know when it's ready to move."
As they neared the far shore, twisted trees loomed like sentinels. Moss dripped from their trunks, branches tangled together to form a canopy that devoured the sunlight. Shadows pooled beneath them, thick and watchful.
The boat scraped against the muddy bank. A sudden splash broke the silence, and Charlotte yelped, grabbing Loyed's arm.
He chuckled softly, though his eyes stayed alert. "Relax. Probably just a fish… a very unfriendly one."
But his instincts were already stirring. Every snapped twig, every rustle of leaves made his pulse quicken. The forest wasn't empty—it was waiting.
They stepped onto the shore, the mist clinging to their legs as the air grew heavy with the scent of wet earth and wildflowers. Silence pressed close around them, broken only by the distant cry of unseen birds.
Loyed glanced at the tangled undergrowth. "Stay close. Don't touch anything that moves too fast. In fact, don't touch anything that moves at all."
Charlotte nodded, eyes scanning the shadows. "I'll be careful."
With a shared glance, they pushed forward. The canopy swallowed them whole.
The deeper they went, the stranger it became. Pale fungi glowed faintly beneath roots. Vines twitched when brushed. The ground thrummed as though something massive moved far below.
Then—a sound. Rhythmic. Deep. Not hooves, but heavier. Alive.
Charlotte froze. "Nova… did you hear that?"
He nodded. "Yeah. And whatever it is… it's hungry. Stay sharp."
Mist and shadow thickened as they pressed deeper, a quiet dread building in the air. This wasn't exploration—it was intrusion. And the Forest of Euphoria had been waiting for trespassers for a long, long time.
The deeper they went, the thicker the air became—a blend of decay and iron. Charlotte slowed, clutching her cloak, eyes flicking to every shifting shadow.
Then Loyed stopped. "Hold it."
A clearing opened ahead. Trees were splintered, the ground torn apart. Fang marks scarred bark and stone. At its center lay a massive beast—its fur blackened and charred, as though burned from the inside out.
Charlotte's voice shook. "That's… a shadow direwolf. They don't die easily."
Loyed crouched beside the corpse, eyes narrowing. "This wasn't a weapon. Whatever did this… burned it clean through." He brushed his fingers over the fur and recoiled. "Still warm."
Charlotte paled. "Then it happened recently."
He scanned the treeline, every muscle tense. "And whoever—or whatever—did this might still be here."
A gust swept through, carrying faint whispers—overlapping voices, speaking in no human tongue. Charlotte grabbed his arm. "Nova… what is that?"
He didn't answer. His gaze locked on a mark carved into a nearby tree—a faint red symbol, glowing for an instant before fading.
"That…" he murmured, "…wasn't natural."
Charlotte's voice trembled. "A curse mark?"
Loyed stood slowly, his expression dark. "No. A warning."
Then, as if the forest itself responded, a distant, guttural roar split the silence—not of rage, but of pain. Birds burst into the air, and the forest seemed to exhale after holding its breath.
Charlotte's grip tightened. "We have to go, Nova!"
He hesitated, eyes fixed on the direction of the roar. Then he nodded. "You're right. We've seen enough."
They turned to leave—
—but when Loyed looked back, the clearing was empty.
The direwolf's body was gone.
Only blood-soaked soil remained.