Lara and Raikha started to walk. The air felt heavy and thick as they pressed deeper into the Whispering Glades, where an eerie silence smothered their footsteps. As their name suggests, the Whispering Glades were just that. Even in the middle of the day, the forest here grew denser and darker. With their branches twisted into hideous claw-like shapes and covered in thick, parasitic vines that resembled grasping fingers, the trees themselves appeared to writhe.
The ground was always in twilight as sunlight struggled to reach the canopy. Strange noises came from the deeper woods; they weren't the rustle of leaves or the chirping of cicadas, but rather breathy, faint murmurs that sounded like secrets whispered just out of earshot. It sounded at times like brittle, dry laughter carried on a nonexistent breeze, and at other times like faint, mournful sighs. The air itself seemed ancient, infused with invisible energy that made Raikha's arms stand on end. They were here to find the moonpetal, a rare flower said to bloom only in the heart of the Glades.
But Lara moved with a confidence that was almost eager, her senses alert to every slight change in the eerie surroundings. Here, she seemed to flourish.
The twisted trees and eerie whispers of the Whispering Glades were reflected in the solemn silence that replaced Lara's usual teasing.
"My clan," she said in a tone that Raikha had never heard before, "the Thornstep Clan, we were Halimun's protectors. Not only residing there, but also preserving its equilibrium and vitality."
Even on the crackling leaf litter, her footsteps were quiet as she moved with a natural familiarity.
"We were hunters, healers, and trackers from birth. We were aware of every whisper, secret, and secret path in this forest. It had been handed down through the generations and was ingrained in our blood. With a hint of melancholy, she rubbed her hand across the rough bark of a twisted tree. We were part of it, and it was part of us."
Deeper than any shadow the thick foliage could cast, a shadow moved across her face.
"However, the balance... broke. a long time ago." Her eyes wandered, far away. "It's difficult to explain to an outsider what a sickness or betrayal is. Although they exacerbated the situation later, the Empire was not directly responsible." She clenched her jaw. "We were dwindled. Broken. I'm among the last." Her usual bravery was absent suddenly.
There was a flash of unfiltered emotion in her eyes as she looked at Raikha.
"My family and my elders are no longer with me. However, their legacy isn't. It permeates every breath I take and every step I take in this forest." With a tone of fierce determination, her voice hardened. "I'll pay tribute to them. I'll make sure their knowledge doesn't disappear with me and safeguard what little remains."
Raikha noticed a steely resolve in her eyes that had replaced the playful glint. The playful mountain girl had vanished, exposing the ferocious, weighed guardian underneath. Something like respect pricked him, but he smothered it quickly. He understood her now, but he still didn't like her.
Entering the Whispering Glades was like stepping into a dream made of half-truths and shadows. The most unnerving noises were always breaking through the eerie silence. They caught a glimpse of a familiar path that was not there, a far-off figure that disappeared when they blinked, and shimmering mirages that flickered at the edges of their vision. The air was filled with whispering voices that were clear enough to prickle the skin but too faint to make out words.
They had the impression that the forest itself was watching them every step of the way and exhaling secrets.
Raikha shivered. A primordial uneasiness took hold.
It feels wrong here.
This place... it's suffocating. Like a grave draped in vines. I don't like it. Not one bit. But I need to find the moonpetal.
But Lara's movements were strangely familiar.
She whispered, "Stay close," her voice barely audible over the weird hum of the forest.
With an almost instinctive sense, she sensed the soft ground before her foot touched it, anticipating hidden roots and slippery stones covered in moss as she made her way through the perilous terrain.
"Easy now, the ground here is unreliable, like a drunkard's promise." Lara spoke with ease.
"How are you aware of that? You behave as though you are the forest."
"The Thornstep Clan listened to what I told you. If you can hear it, the forest will speak."
(Speak? She's gone crazy. Or perhaps... perhaps there is some truth to this.)
Raikha found a hardly perceptible deer trail that led them through an impenetrable thicket. She pointed out odd patterns in the moss that warned of an unstable earth, or slight changes in the wind that suggested invisible drops. Her understanding of the Glades was embodied rather than merely acquired.
"See how the moss grows thicker on the north side of the trees?" Lara said, pointing out subtle signs. "That's your guide in this gloom."
She really does know this place, Raikha thought. It's unsettling. Almost like she's part of it. I still don't trust her, but I can't deny she's useful.
For his part, Raikha used his silat senses that had been sharpened. He moved with a silent shadow form. He was able to identify hidden creatures before they stirred by feeling the faint vibrations in the ground.
Trained to detect even the smallest movement in combat, his eyes now scanned the warped light, identifying differences in the illusions. When a rustle indicated that something heavy was moving through the underbrush, he would instinctively shift his weight or tense for a moment before a branch far to their left snapped.
He instinctively put a hand on Lara's arm as a shimmering mirage of a clear path appeared ahead, stopping her as she took a step. He merely shook his head, indicating the hardly noticeable distortion in the air, when she gave him a questioning look.
"Illusion," he grunted.
Lara, impressed despite herself, couldn't resist a tease. "Show off. You're getting good at this 'not dying' thing. Still not as good as me, though."
Raikha scoffed. "Keep telling yourself that, annoying girl. I saved you from walking into thin air."
"And I saved you from tripping over that root the size of a small dragon," Lara retorted. "We're even. For now."
Slowly, almost unconsciously, they started cooperating. Lara's deep familiarity with the physical traps of the Glades was enhanced by Raikha's sense of invisible dangers. Her steps were light and sure as she led them through the maze-like twists of old trees, and he would nod almost imperceptibly to alert her to the sudden, unsettling drafts of air that suggested a hidden drop-off or the invisible eyes that seemed to follow them from the deeper gloom. In the eerie Whispering Glades, their rivalry-fueled tension gave way to a growing rhythm and a silent understanding. He had to admit that she knew this place better than anyone.
A faint shimmer caught Raikha's eye. It's too late. The ground beneath his feet moved, and a barely audible click echoed through the thick air. He screamed, "Trap!" and sprang forward, but a hidden trap entangled his leg, which had only just been discovered. At the same time, a tripwire wrapped itself around Lara's ankle and pulled her sideways into a thicket. Oh no!
"Damn it!" Raikha grunted, struggling with the snare. "These things are tighter than a miser's purse."
"Poisoned spikes..." Lara muttered, slicing at vines with strained effort. "Typical Kalderan filth. Almost got me."
"Focus on getting free," Raikha urged. "We'll deal with the spikes later."
Vines crisscrossed the path, drawn taut, their sharpened spikes jutting from hidden mechanisms. Raikha struggled against the sudden constriction, his muscles burning as he twisted and threw his weight against the snare.
He saw Lara, a blur of movement, slashing desperately at the vines with her dagger flashing in a whirl of bark and obsidian silk. A swinging log nearly crushed her as she spun around. Raikha ripped at his own restraints, transforming into the wind and smoke and moving with the frantic energy of the form. The rough ropes tore at his skin as he rolled, avoiding a falling net. He had to be quicker.
Once merely eerie, the forest now crackled with cold, metallic intent. The Glades' murmurs became more precise, turning into the recognizable, despised sound of armor. The winding trees seemed to part, and figures appeared to rise from the shadows.
Kalderan warriors.
With their swords already leveled, they emerged in silence as a circle of dark steel and grim faces. Raikha scrambled out of the last trap, eyes searching the impossible odds, breath ragged.
Raikha clambered out of the final trap, eyes searching the impossibly low odds, breath ragged. They were outgunned, outnumbered, and surrounded. This wasn't good.
Out of the trees, suddenly, came a Kalderan warrior, his lips twisting in a ruthless sneer. "At last, the final Thornstep whelp reveals her face. For weeks, we have been following your pitiful attempts to hide in this cursed forest. Did you truly believe you could avoid us indefinitely? This charade is over." His eyes glinted with malevolent amusement as he made a gesture with a gloved hand. "Any chance of opposing the Empire's legitimate claim is gone here, along with the Thornstep line."
There was a sickening thwip. Lara let out a sharp cry of pain as a dark fletching trembled in her arm, a poisoned dart buried deep. She staggered and clutched the wound, her fierce energy momentarily faltering. In addition to the odd magic of the Glades, the air grew heavy with the distinct smell of iron and approaching conflict.
Raikha's mind raced. Poisoned. Damn it all! I should have been faster. Should have seen it coming. This is my fault. He gripped his fists, then forced himself to push the thought away. No. No time for that. She needs help, and I need to keep her alive. He refused to let her go.