Sylfera, Nywel
The air in Nyara's parlour had grown heavier as Euphelia and Rose sipped their tea, the quiet hum of prana filling the room. Euphelia's eyes were fixed on the greenery creeping along the walls, the way it seemed almost alive, aware of their presence.
Nyara leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice. "Malhuk is not safe," she said. "The healer you seek… my master… has enemies who would stop at nothing to keep her from helping anyone. If your friend attacker has power, it may reach him before you do."
Euphelia frowned. "Then we must go quickly. Can you send word to your master?"
Nyara shook her head. "I cannot. Travel between Sylfera and Malhuk is monitored. Only the Dentro plants can take you safely." Her gaze softened. "But I will give you a warning—watch the shadows. Even nymphs cannot always protect those who draw attention."
Rose grasped Euphelia's hand. "We'll be careful," she said. Yet the slight tremble in her voice betrayed her worry.
Euphelia nodded, but deep down, a cold unease settled in her chest. Something about Nyara's warning lingered, heavy and unspoken.
Malhuk
Kael awoke on a hard wooden floor, the faint scent of herbs filling his nostrils. The old woman—Agatha—stood over him, her expression unreadable.
"You're lucky," she said flatly. "Most who come to me in this state… don't survive long enough for justice."
Kael struggled to his feet. "Please… I need your master. My brother—he's… he's in danger."
Agatha's eyes softened, but only slightly. "why do you need me for " She paused, studying him, "I sense something in you. A trace of something unusual. Not just courage, but… potential. Be wary of who follows you. You are not as alone as you think."
A shiver ran down Kael's spine. He wanted to ask what she meant, but words failed him. Outside, the night pressed against the cottage walls, and he could hear the faintest stir of movement beyond the door.
Something—or someone—was waiting.
Petonia Borders
Carlos had finally returned to his tent, carefully mixing the medicinal plants for Damon. The night was still, almost unnaturally so. Then he felt it again—the whispering voice, closer this time, threading through his mind like a cold wind.
"Do not trust the shadows…" it murmured.
He froze, eyes darting to the blackened treeline surrounding him. The raider slept nearby, unaware. Carlos' hand went to the dagger at his belt. The leaf that had fallen earlier, purified by the Dryads… it had been a warning.
A rustle sounded just beyond the tent flap. A shadow shifted. And then, nothing. Silence returned, but the unease lingered like smoke curling around his thoughts.
Carlos gritted his teeth. He was not sure who—or what—had been there, but he knew one thing: he was being watched.
Home, Sylfera
Kaisen's chair creaked under him as he stared at the table, Sylfia standing across from him, her expression unreadable. He had said the words, but the weight of their meaning pressed heavier than ever.
"I leave tomorrow," he repeated. "For at least three years. Maybe more."
Sylfia swallowed hard. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the doorway. "And… this is your choice?" she asked, her voice quiet but sharp.
He nodded. "It has to be. There are things I cannot ignore… people who need me. And you… you must trust me to return."
Her heart ached, but she knew arguing was pointless. Instead, she reached out, placing a hand over his. "Then I will wait," she said softly. But even as she spoke, a shadow flickered at the corner of her vision—something that moved too fast, too deliberately, as if it had been listening to their conversation.
Neither of them noticed it fully, but it left a chill crawling up their spines.
Night deepened across the lands of Sylfera, Malhuk, and Petonia. Whispers of danger threaded through the forests, along hidden roads, and across shadowed alleys. A web was forming, stretching its strands toward those who sought justice, protection, and truth.
And in the darkness, unseen eyes watched.