Usually, the fox guided Lira along the familiar, winding trail toward the grove nestled in the old ruins, a path worn soft by time and habit. But not today.
Today, the fox turned away from the known.
It slipped silently between thickening trees, into a dense part of the forest where bramble and bush grew wild, their thorns tugging at Lira's sleeves. She hesitated only a moment before pushing forward, Fluffy brushing against her calf, his soft tail like a whisper of comfort.
The deeper they went, the heavier the air grew. Fog swirled around their knees now, damp and steady, hiding the shapes of roots and stones until the last second. Lira ducked under low branches and squeezed through narrow gaps in the undergrowth. It was hard to tell how far they had come. The light had flattened, the sky above lost behind the swirling veil.
Time felt strange here.
Her legs ached, and her breath came in quiet bursts. When at last the fox paused near a fallen log, Lira gratefully sank onto a rock and opened her pouch. Inside, she'd packed a handful of food, dried fruit, nut bread, a small flask of berry tonic. She shared a bit with Fluffy, who gave a happy chirp and nestled beside her, warm and grounding.
The fox waited with regal patience a few paces ahead, curled in the mist, watching her with unreadable eyes.
As Lira chewed quietly, her thoughts wandered to the seed Therin had spoken of, the one that waited for a sign, a rhythm, something unknown to stir it awake. Maybe it was the same with this journey. Maybe the flower wouldn't bloom for a hurried heart.
After the last bite, she brushed crumbs from her fingers, gave Fluffy a gentle scratch behind the ears, and stood.
The fox rose in the same moment and turned wordlessly, slipping between the silver-coated bushes once more.
They walked on.
Fog thickened until the world was shades of green and gray, but still the fox pressed forward, silent and sure.
Lira followed, her fingers brushing leaves wet with dew and memory.
Something was waiting ahead.
Something that bloomed only for the brave… or the chosen.
They emerged into a small clearing where the trees thinned just enough to reveal an old, moss-covered wooden sign. The fog pressed in around it like a curtain, thick and unmoving.
DANGER. DO NOT ENTER FOGGY FOREST.
DANGEROUS ILLUSIONS.
The paint had faded, but the words still held weight. Beneath them, crude symbols of twisting paths and mirrored eyes were carved into the wood, warnings for those who knew how to read them.
The fox stopped and sat beside the sign, tail curled neatly around its paws. It looked up at Lira with calm expectation, then gave a single nod toward the warning.
Lira met the creature's gaze, struck again by how deeply it seemed to understand. She reached into her pouch and drew out the small glass bottle given to her by Master Therin. The liquid inside shimmered faintly, catching the dim light even in the fog.
Holding it in her palm, she glanced at the fox. It stared at the bottle, then gave another slow nod, as if saying: You'll need that now.
Lira uncorked the bottle. The scent that escaped was sharp and cool, like mint crushed with snowflowers. As they all stepped into the fog she raised it to her lips and drank.
At first, it was like swallowing moonlight. Cold slid down her throat, followed by a flicker of warmth. Then the world swayed.
She staggered slightly, and Fluffy pressed gently against her leg, steadying her. Her vision blurred for a heartbeat, then sharpened at the edges. Not brighter, but clearer, as if shadows had meaning and sound had texture. A hush fell over the world. She could hear the rustle of a mouse beneath the ferns ten steps away, the distant flap of wings overhead, and even the slow, steady breath of the fox beside her.
She blinked. The fog was still there, thick and silver, but it no longer felt like a wall. More like a veil. A challenge to see past, not an impossible shroud.
Her fingers brushed a fern leaf, and it sang its softness to her.
"I can feel everything," she whispered.
The fox rose and stepped into the mist.
Lira followed, Fluffy close behind, her senses alive with new understanding.
Each step forward felt deeper, as though they were passing not only through forest but through layers of something unseen, old magic, old memory, old warning.
As they moved deeper into the mist, the world grew quieter. No birds, no wind. Just the soft crunch of Lira's boots against the earth, the near-silent patter of the fox's paws, and the occasional brush of Fluffy's fur against her calf.
The fog thickened with every step. It clung to her skin and hair like damp silk. The trees here were twisted, their bark marked with strange grooves, as if the forest itself had been carved by unseen hands.
Then...
A sound tore through the stillness.
A howl.
Long. Deep. So loud it vibrated in her ribs and teeth. It was no ordinary wolf cry. There was something... wrong in it. Not just wild, but wounded. Furious. Ancient.
Fluffy yelped and pressed tight behind her legs, shivering against her boots. The fox froze mid-step, its fur bristling all along its spine, ears flat like an angry cat. Its golden eyes scanned the mist, sharp and unreadable.
Lira didn't move.
Her breath caught in her throat. She could feel her own heartbeat in her fingertips, in her ears, in the soles of her feet. A line of sweat ran down her back despite the cool air.
Then it came again.
Another howl, closer this time. So loud she almost felt the fog ripple around her.
Fluffy whimpered. Lira reached down without thinking and placed a steadying hand on the dog's back. She glanced at the fox, whose stance hadn't changed. Still as stone. But its tail flicked once.
Warning.
She swallowed hard. "What... is that?" she whispered, not expecting an answer.
The fox stepped forward slowly, deliberately. It glanced back at her once, eyes glowing faintly through the fog, then kept walking.
They were being watched.
She felt it. Not by eyes in the ordinary sense, but by something deeper. Something old. Something that remembered.
Lira straightened her spine, heart still hammering, and followed.
Step by step, the howl still echoing somewhere behind them.
The fog shifted around them in ghostly swirls as they pressed forward. The light had dimmed, the air turning cooler. Somewhere beyond the trees, the sun was dipping toward the horizon, casting the last traces of gold through the mist.
They were tired.
Even the fox's movements grew slower, ears twitching less often. Fluffy's tongue lolled from the side of her mouth, and Lira could feel the ache in her legs and shoulders from hours of tense walking.
The fox paused, nose to the wind, then turned sharply left, through a tight wall of thorny underbrush. It looked back and gave a low huff, then slipped through.
Lira followed, lifting branches and carefully guiding Fluffy under them.
On the other side, barely visible through the haze, stood an old wooden house.
Small. Quiet. Forgotten.
Its roof sagged with age and moss, and one corner had a gaping hole where birds might have nested. The windows were fogged and cracked, but the walls still stood firm. A safe shell in the middle of a place that felt anything but.
The fox padded up to the door, tail low but alert. Lira stepped forward, heart heavy with weariness, and pushed it open.
It creaked.
Inside, it was dark and dusty. The air smelled of dry wood and old straw. No furniture, just heaps of straw piled in corners, likely dragged in by creatures long gone.
But it was shelter.
As the door clicked shut behind them and night folded over the forest, Lira took a breath and relaxed her shoulders. Fluffy gave a soft whine and curled against her feet.
She gathered some of the straw into a nest-like shape and lay down, her arms cradling Fluffy. The fox circled once behind her, then settled with its warm back pressed to hers.
Outside, the wind whispered through trees they couldn't see, and strange echoes still drifted in from deep within the woods.
Lira was a little bit scared.
But wrapped in warmth, protected by her companions, she felt safe enough, for now.
She closed her eyes, listening to the slow breaths of the ones beside her, and let the forest lull her into uneasy dreams.
Sleep took her slowly, like slipping beneath deep water. The sounds of the forest faded until there was only the faint thrum of her own heart, then silence.
In the dream, mist rolled once again around her feet.
She stood in a place both familiar and distant, wide open, with no sky, only fog and silence. And there she was again.
The woman.
Tall. Graceful. Older.
Lira always saw her in these dreams, like a mirror of herself pulled through time. Her long hair shimmered slightly in the dim light, her robe swaying as she stood still.
But this time… she wasn't alone.
Someone stood beside her. A figure cloaked in pale gray, like mist given form. At first, Lira thought it was a man, tall, slender, calm, but there was something not quite human. Something strange, gently over the crown of their head, antlers, perhaps? Or horns? Ears that looked like animal's ears. She couldn't tell.
Lira stepped forward slowly, trying to see more. Fluffy's dream-form padded beside her, for the first time, ears high and alert.
As she neared, the figure turned.
And her breath caught.
The face was striking, beautiful in a way that felt ancient, not young. Sharp cheekbones, luminous eyes that held entire stories behind them. A faint, unreadable smile rested on full lips.
Human? Maybe. But… not quite.
As Lira stood frozen, breath held tight in her chest, the being lifted an arm. A long, trailing sleeve caught the air.
And with a single motion, they swept the fog across the space like a curtain drawn over a stage.
The dream vanished.
Darkness fell.