The dawn of the new day did not break with brilliance but seeped slowly through the dense canopy of the Whispering Forest, like a smear of milk across a grey sky. As we took our final steps out of that ghostly forest's boundary, it felt like breaking the surface after diving too deep. The psychic whispers abruptly ceased, leaving a resounding silence in the mind. For the first time in days, the silence no longer felt threatening but rather like a sweet release. I could hear the wind truly rustling, birds starting their morning chorus in the distance, and my own steady, relieved breathing.
"Finally out," Kael was the first to speak, his voice still a bit hoarse but regaining its inherent steadiness. He took a deep breath, expanding his chest as if to expel all remnants of the suffocation from the past three days.
Elara said nothing; she simply closed her eyes, tilting her face toward the weak sunlight, a gentle smile blooming on her lips. The tension that had tormented her in the Whispering Forest seemed to dissipate, leaving behind a weary serenity.
The terrain before us was completely different. The jungle receded behind us like a wall of dark green, giving way to rolling hills stretching to the horizon. Wild grass grew waist-high, lush green and drenched in morning dew. The air was crisp and cool, carrying the scent of damp earth and wildflowers. It was a scene of life, a stark contrast to the death and stillness we had just endured.
The path of blue light in my mind now appeared clear and stable, pointing straight ahead through the hills. Tel'Adria was somewhere in this direction. A sense of hope—an emotion I had almost forgotten—began to kindle once more.
"We lost quite a bit of time in there," I said, looking back at the forest. "We need to pick up the pace."
Kael nodded. "My wound is fine. I can move faster." He rotated his previously injured arm; his face showed no pain, only determination. The miracle of the Silver Tear was truly extraordinary.
We began a fast and steady pace. Kael resumed the lead, his axe no longer a walking stick but back in its familiar place on his back, ready for anything. His experience in traversing the wilderness was invaluable. He read the terrain like an open book, choosing the easiest paths and avoiding areas that might hide sinkholes or predators.
As the sun climbed higher, we began to notice signs of a faded civilization. An old stone road, nearly swallowed by weeds and roots, wound through the hills. Occasionally, we passed crumbling stone walls, likely once farm fences. These remnants brought both hope and a vague sadness. People once lived here, farmed, built families. Now, only silent ruins remained.
Around noon, Elara signaled a stop. She knelt beside the stone path, pointing at something on the ground. It was a deep scratch on a stone slab, looking quite fresh. But strangely, the edges were charred black, and a thin layer of purple-black slime oozed from it.
"Blight," Elara whispered, her voice hardening. "The Corruption. It has spread this far."
I felt a shiver run down my spine. I had heard them speak of it, but this was the first time I witnessed its trace with my own eyes. It was no longer an abstract concept; it was tangible—a pollution gnawing at this world.
Kael poked the slime with the tip of his axe. It fizzled slightly, emitting a sour, foul odor. "We must be more careful," he said, scanning the surroundings, his vigilance doubled. "Anything infected by this becomes mad and aggressive."
"It doesn't just affect animals," Elara added, standing up. "Plants, soil, water sources... everything. If a normal person is exposed to it for too long, they will be mutated too."
Her words painted a horrific picture. Tel'Adria, our destination, might not be a safe haven, but a fortress under siege by an invisible and ruthless enemy.
Our journey grew more tense. Every shadow, every bush could conceal a danger. I focused on the "Heart of the Forest," trying to expand my perception. Beyond the path of blue light, I began to sense other things. "Points" of living energy from animals, faint flows of underground water. But interspersed were "dead zones"—areas where I felt nothing but a cold void. Those were the places the Blight had traversed.
Late in the afternoon, we reached a place that made all three of us stop. Before us lay the ruins of a small village nestled in a valley. About a dozen wooden houses had collapsed, roofs punctured, walls rotting away. Weeds grew through the floorboards. A heavy silence blanketed the place, even scarier than the silence of the Whispering Forest, because this was a place that should have been filled with laughter and children playing.
"Should we go in?" I asked, feeling uneasy.
"We need to find out what happened," Kael replied, "and see if anything useful remains."
We entered the village cautiously, Kael in front, axe firmly in hand. The air smelled heavy of mold and oblivion. Strangely, there were no signs of a struggle. No bodies, no bloodstains. Just emptiness. It seemed everyone had... vanished.
Inside a relatively intact house, we found a diary lying on an overturned table, its pages yellowed and damp. Elara carefully picked it up, trying to read the blurred lines.
"...Day seven. Another sheep dead. Not attacked by beasts. Its skin turned grey, and it kept bashing its head against the fence until it died..."
"...Day twelve. The well water tastes strange. Metallic. People are starting to cough, a dry, persistent cough..."
"...Day sixteen. Little Joric started seeing things that aren't there. He keeps pointing at the corner of the room and screaming. His eyes... have purple streaks..."
"...Day twenty. Madness. People are attacking each other. I locked the door. I can hear scratching outside. Not human sounds... not human anymore. A purple mist is covering the valley..."
The last entry was scrawled and barely legible: "...go towards the light... must go..."
Elara closed the diary, her eyes darkening. "They were swallowed by the Blight," she said softly. "It poisons the mind before mutating the body. 'Go towards the light' might be an illusion it created to lure them."
A terrifying truth washed over me. This enemy didn't just kill. It deceived, tortured, and erased everything, turning humans into monsters against their own kind, turning their homes into nameless graves.
That night, we didn't camp in the village. We climbed a nearby hill, finding a vantage point to observe the surroundings. We lit a small fire, but no one spoke much. The words in the diary still haunted my mind. Kael sat silently, his eyes gazing far toward the horizon, where Tel'Adria lay. His steadfastness was now mingled with palpable anxiety. He wasn't just fighting for our survival anymore. He was fighting to return to a place that might no longer be as he remembered.
I looked into the "Heart of the Forest." Its warmth was a comfort, a reminder that life and purity still existed in this world. The war against the Blight was not merely a physical one; it was a battle between hope and despair, between life and decay. And now, we were right in the middle of that frontline.