Camdyn ducked under a low-lying branch. The change in scenery was a welcome one after the grimy atmosphere of the Bazaar and the tired string of coastal stops. He was sure his lungs were crusted with brine by now. Here, the air was fresher. Green, humid, and humming with the quiet pulse of the woods. The lush forest felt like coming home. For him and Flora alike.

  “So, remind me why we’re looking for this river? The Snake’s…” he trailed off, the name escaping him.

  “The Serpent’s Bend.” Flora supplied.

  “Yeah, that.”

  “Well, the waterfall is the important part.” Saelune corrected.

  Camdyn frowned. “And why would the Blade be there? I thought you said it would be in someone’s care.”

  “Rumor has it there’s treasure tucked in a cave behind the waterfall.”

  “If that’s the rumor, why hasn’t anyone claimed it yet?”

  “I guess nobody is particularly eager to get flattened under a cascade or drowned in the current. Not over a rumor anyway.”

  “Except for us, apparently,” he muttered under his breath.

  Flora’s voice was cool. “And why is it we trust this creature? How reliable are his words?”

  “Fifty?fifty,” Saelune admitted with a shrug. “But he wouldn’t lie to me. Not knowingly. I know where he sleeps.”

  “I gotta say, I was really hoping those odds would be better.”

  “Agreed.” Flora said flatly.

  Saelune placed a hand on her hip. “Well, it’s a lead, isn’t it? Exactly what we were looking for. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Camdyn conceded. “So… Have either of you seen this waterfall for yourselves?”

  Flora nodded. “I know the forest there well. My distant kin live amongst her trees.”

  “Oh, goody. More of you.” Saelune mumbled.

  “What? Are you intimidated?” he teased.

  “By tree-huggers? Don’t make me laugh.”

  “We are peaceful by nature, but do not mistake that for weakness.”

  “Oh? Is that a challenge?” Saelune grinned.

  Flora’s lips curved in the faintest smile. “Only a warning.”

  “I’d be nervous if I were you,” Camdyn said. “She can make good on that warning.”

  They shared a quiet, knowing smile before Flora ducked her head, letting her hair fall forward as she stepped ahead of him.

  “I’ll believe it when I see it.” Saelune muttered.

  They walked on. At first, the woods were as they’d been, lush and dappled with soft light, but the further they went, the stranger they became. A low fog began to creep between the trees, curling around their feet and swallowing the edges of the trail. The air smelled rich and green, but carried a damp heaviness, as though it had been trapped for too long.

  The canopy above thickened, dimming the light until it seemed more twilight than day. The path behind them felt… indistinct, like it could dissolve if they looked away too long. Every so often Camdyn thought he caught the sound of running water, only for it to fade into the rustle of leaves.

  After what felt like hours, Camdyn slowed, a thought dawning on him.“Hey… shouldn’t we have at least heard the river by now?”

  Flora’s brow furrowed. “Something isn’t right. This forest feels like a stranger to me.”

  “I thought you took us to the Weeping Crown Woods?” Saelune said.

  “As did I,” Flora admitted. “We should be close, but… this is not where I intended.”

  She crouched low to the earth, and placed her hand on the soil. She closed her eyes, feeling for something. Frustration deepened the crease between her brows.

  “It’s… tangled,” she said at last. “The roots are one, as if the whole forest shares a single body. And they’re… moving. Shifting beneath us.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Camdyn asked, equally concerned if not more.

  Flora opened her eyes and drew her hand back, as though the ground itself had withdrawn from her. “I’m not certain.”

  “So what? You’re saying this forest is sentient or something?” Saelune pressed.

  “It behaves unlike any forest I’ve known,” she replied. “It moves with purpose. It responds.”

  Camdyn glanced into the fog, then back to her. “Then we double back. Find where we came from and start fresh.”

  No one argued. They retraced their steps, but each footfall felt less like retreat and more like sinking deeper. The trees grew no more familiar. If anything, they seemed to shift when no one was looking, rearranging themselves in quiet mockery.

  They stopped again, unease settling over them like the fog.

  “I fear we may have stirred something ancient,” Flora said quietly.

  Saelune glanced at her. “And why do you say that?”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Flora lifted a hand and pointed behind them.

  At the foot of the trees, bodies lay in varying stages of decay. Some animal, some unrecognizable, and some unmistakably human. The longer they looked, the more shapes emerged from the gloom: skulls peering from the undergrowth, ribs half-swallowed by soil, bones knotted into the roots. A few looked long-dead. Others seemed freshly claimed.

  Camdyn’s mouth hung open.

  “Well, those definitely weren’t there a second ago.” Saelune said.

  Flora shook her head slowly. “The woods are reacting to our presence.”

  “I’m guessing we’re not welcome guests, then.”

  Camdyn finally found his voice. “I wouldn’t be so sure...”

  He stepped toward one of the nearest corpses, stifling a gag. A human figure near-consumed by a trunk, like it was becoming one with it. He crouched, tracing the grotesque fusion of flesh and tree. New shoots pushed through the bark, bright against the decay.

  “I think this forest might be eating its dead,” he said grimly.

  “Morbid. And somehow fascinating all at once,” Saelune replied.

  “If it’s consuming its victims, that means one of two things,” Camdyn said, distancing himself from the body. “Either it’s a massive decomposer… or the less favorable option, it has a way of killing its prey, and we’ve just stumbled into its web.”

  "I vote for the first option," Saelune said. "I'm not keen on being dinner."

  She eyed the thick canopy overhead. “Maybe we can get a better look from up there.” Without waiting for a reply, Saelune darted toward a nearby tree, fingers finding holds in the rough bark. Her movements were quick and confident, scaling the trunk with ease.

  Gazing downward, she searched the forest depths, but the lush canopy sealed itself like a verdant vault. No meadows appeared. No water glinted. No passage revealed itself through the tangle. Her brow creased in frustration as the woodland stretched endlessly, an impenetrable sea of green.

  Back on the ground, Flora closed her eyes, palms raised, focusing. She approached a large pine. A soft glow shimmered around her fingertips. But the light faltered, then dimmed.

  “I can’t commune with the trees here,” she murmured. “It’s not that they’re unreachable. It’s as if they’re choosing silence.”

  Camdyn glanced around uneasily, the quiet pressing in. “We’re trapped, aren’t we?”

  Flora's voice dropped to a whisper. “This place does not intend to let us leave.”

  Saelune leapt from her perch, wings slowing the fall as she rejoined the group. “Forest stretches every which way. I think we may be screwed.”

  “How did we even end up here?” Camdyn asked, baffled.

  “Good question,” Saelune said, casting a sharp glance Flora’s way.

  Flora’s gaze stayed fixed on the snarled roots beneath their feet. “The forest didn’t just trap us. It stole our path. This place doesn’t belong here. It’s a weed that’s taken root… It sought us out.”

  “Great,” Saelune muttered, “a supernatural hijacking.”

  "Which confirms it. This is a predator,” Camdyn said quietly.

  “To continue blindly, knowing this, would be foolish.” Flora replied. “It wants us to venture deeper.”

  He nodded slowly. "These victims don't look mauled. They either succumbed to exposure... or starved wandering these paths." He hesitated, unease creeping into his voice. "Come to think of it, how long have we been here?"

  He tilted his head toward the sky, but the sun was gone, swallowed by the canopy overhead, its light fractured into green shadows.

  “I can’t remember either.” Saelune added. “Must be some kind of enchantment causing time loss. Usually that leads to disorientation, and then, if you’re really unlucky, psychosis. Like the shroud we have around the Spire.”

  “Okay, new rules.” Camdyn said. “No one goes off alone. Under no circumstance do we split up. I’m looking at you, Saelune.”

  Her mouth fell open in offense.

  “And,” he continued, “We check in on each other periodically for signs of psychosis. If you feel yourself losing your grip, tell someone. If you notice someone else losing their grip, also tell someone.”

  “And if everyone loses it at the same time?” Saelune asked, deadpan.

  Camdyn adjusted the straps of his pack, his jaw tightening. “Pray it doesn’t come to that.”

  "That still leaves the question, which direction?" Flora said, quiet.

  “Well, every predator has its weakness, right? Just gotta find out what this one’s is.”

  Saelune folded her arms. “And what? Stab it in the heart?”

  “If it has one, sure. But it might not be about killing it. It might be about finding its blind spot.”

  Flora pressed her hand to the earth again, trying to untangle the labyrinth beneath them. She tried to concentrate on one root, but each path called her to a different direction, a chaotic chorus meant to distract. To mislead.

  Meanwhile, Saelune tried to focus in on her foresight. She covered her amber eye and was immediately met with flashes of color and blurry images, overlapping scenes and fragments of possible futures, swirling and crashing against one another. Too fast, too vivid, and pounding at her temples like thunder.

  She was quick to drop her hand. “Well, that’s one hell of a migraine.” She winced. “My visions are supercharged here, but in the worst way possible. Like premonitions on steroids."

  “I know the feeling.” Camdyn murmured, his mind drifting back to the Spire.

  Flora shook her head. “I feel the same chaos. We need a way to quiet it. Perhaps…”

  She stepped toward Saelune, who instinctively stepped back. “What are you doing?”

  “If we were able to combine our gifts, perhaps we could cut through the confusion."

  Flora reached out to her. Saelune hesitated a moment, then matched the gesture. As their touch linked, the discordant voices faded into a gentle hum, and the jumbled visions began to focus. Colors sharpened, shapes became clearer. She could see a winding path lit faintly in the shadows, safe from the forest’s trickery.

  “I see it,” Saelune breathed. “A path hidden beneath the noise.”

  Flora smiled softly. “And I hear its call.”

  Together, sight and sound converged. A harmony of magic revealing the way out.