The woods surrounding Dunn Caster were ancient, home to tall intertwining trees with bark as dark as coal, and moss that hung like curtains between them. Fog sat above the ground, thick enough to muffle sound, completely surrounding the group.

  The deeper they walked into the forest, the quieter it became. Even the sounds of birds had faded, replaced only by the crunch of their footsteps against dirt, and the occasional groan of the trees swaying above.

  Soren walked near the back of the group, sword strapped to his side. He kept his eyes ahead on, watching the others move with practiced focus, like they had been in this exact situation hundreds of times before..

  Elise led from the front with silent steps, one hand always resting near her dagger. Remi had taken a quieter approach as well, her usual teasing and banter was replaced by a sense of alertness.

  Faris scanned the treetops, his eyes focused and his bow gripped tight. Even Jorge, normally calm and joking, had an unusual frown on his face.

  “This place is… wrong,” Remi muttered. “Like it's waiting for something.”

  “Or watching,” Faris added.

  They didn’t say much after that. Minutes passed with seemingly no change in their surroundings. Then something changed.

  Remi flinched, gripping her staff tighter. “Did you hear that?”

  The group stopped, turning to look at her. “Hear what?” Soren asked.

  Jorge turned and nodded, a disturbed look on his face. “A voice. It said my name.”

  Soren stared at him, unknowingly gripping the hilt of his sword tighter. “What?”

  “I heard it too,” Elise said quietly, looking into the fog. “My sister’s voice.”

  Faris tensed, looking at the group, then at the trees, his eyes narrowing. “They’re in our heads.”

  The air around them grew colder after that. The fog pressed in closer, thicker, curling around their feet as if it was alive and wanting to take hold. Soren grounded himself, and felt a shiver run down from the top of his spine down to his feet, but it was not from the cold.

  “I… don’t hear anything,” he said, confused, increasingly worried about the rest of the group.

  Remi looked at him strangely, a look of resignation and fear across her face. “Count yourself lucky.”

  But then, he heard it. A voice, faint, almost inaudible, just behind him. A voice he knew all too well.

  “Soren…”

  He spun around quickly to its source, eyes darting. Nothing.

  “…Soren… help me…”

  His heart pounded in his chest like it wanted to rip itself out. That voice was unmistakable. It was his father’s voice.

  “…Don’t let him hurt me…”

  “Father?” he whispered to himself, frozen in place. His breath misted in the air as his eyes still raced to locate the source of this voice.

  “Father, where—?”

  He stepped away from the path, eyes darting around. The trees now seemed to twist and shift as he moved through the dirt beneath them, the voice pulling him in an unknown direction, like a string had been tied to his chest.

  “Soren…”

  He walked further, just a little, pushing past low branches and through some bushes. The voice continued to echo through the fog, seeming as if it was always just ahead. Encouraging him to go a little further each time.

  The others didn’t notice his disappearance, too caught up in their own haunted moments. Jorge was breathing heavily, sweat across his forehead while looking at something, yet following his eyes would reveal nothing but an empty space. Elise had stopped moving entirely, head tilted while her own eyes were locked on something unseen.

  Faris shook his head as if trying to clear a bad thought from his mind. Remi gripped her staff like a lifeline, like letting it go meant she was opening herself up for something else to take hold.

  Soren stepped over a root carefully, and looked up.

  “…Please, son…”

  His father’s voice again. More desperate this time.

  He knelt down, digging his hand in the dirt to keep his bearings. He didn’t know what to believe anymore. His body was trembling, and his mind was too confused to be of any help.

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  Logic screamed at him that it wasn’t real. But his heart… his heart wanted to believe.

  He stepped forward again. His breaths came sharp and fast as he stumbled through bushes, hands still shaking uncontrollably. The fog pressed against him as if it wanted to consume him, but he gritted his teeth and pushed forward, clenching the hilt of his sword even tighter.

  He heard the voice again, soft and haunting. “…Please, Soren…”

  He stopped this time. His hands clenched into fists, frustration mixing into his fear. “No…” he whispered.

  “…help me…”

  He closed his eyes tightly, clenching his jaw even tighter. “You’re not him,” he said, voice trembling but now with a firmness that was not present earlier.. “You’re not my father.”

  Then the air around him grew cold, biting through his clothing into his skin. The voice grew louder, more desperate, almost pleading.

  “You’re … a lie. A lie, made to hurt me.”

  Silence followed, and after a moment, he grit his teeth and continued.

  “I wish.. I wish it wasn’t true,” he said quietly, voice cracking. “I wish I could believe it… but… I watched him die. I’ll never forget that.”

  The woods silenced even more now, seeming to listen to him.

  “I miss him. Every second… I wish he was still here. But… he’s gone.”

  The voice twitched, and warped into a low growl, more aggressive. Then came a screech, inhuman and piercing. Soren flinched and fell to his knees, holding his ears as the noise clawed at his mind.

  Then… a sudden silence. And in that silence, another sound emerged, that of a nearby struggle. Soren stood up despite his disorientation, and turned sharply, beginning to sprint back. He finally found the group just beyond a ridge. Elise was thrashing and twisting in Jorge’s grip, her usually stoic composure completely shattered.

  “Let me go!” she screamed, voice hoarse with aggression and grief.

  “She needs me! She’s alive!”

  “Hold her!” Jorge grunted as he struggled to keep his grip on her.

  Faris stepped in front of her, eyes calm and voice gentle as always. “Elise, look at me.”

  She struggled, still twisting wildly in Jorge’s grip. “Faris, move—!”

  “Elise, that voice… it’s not her.”

  She kicked a while longer, then froze suddenly, eyes wide with realization. Faris took a small step forward, and placed a hand lightly on her shoulder.

  “She’s gone, Elise. You told me that yourself, not long after we met. Don’t… don’t let whatever this is twist your grief against you.”

  Her breathing slowed, slowly at first, then she lowered her head. Tears welled in her eyes, and her body slumped forward slightly. Jorge held her upright as she began to steady herself once again.

  “…Thanks,” she muttered, finally moving out of his grip, wiping her eyes and smoothing herself down.

  “Stay close,” Jorge ordered, grounding himself. “We split for a second and it nearly broke us.”

  They all nodded. Soren emerged from the fog and walked towards the group, calmer now. He looked at them, dark hair slightly hanging in his now relaxed eyes, and finally spoke.

  “I found something. I think whatever it is might be causing this.”

  He pointed toward a nearby tree, bigger than the rest. On the bark, partially hidden under moss, was a rune, glowing a deep red and pulsing faintly. Remi stepped closer and raised her staff. With a whispered incantation, light spilled from the staff’s tip like a soft golden mist, illuminating the sigil and the small surrounding area.

  “It’s not natural,” she murmured. “It’s definitely magic though. Enchantment fused with grief… or maybe possession.”

  The sigil pulsed in response to her magic, almost as if aware there was another presence nearby.

  They moved deeper into the woods together, and as they walked, Remi used her staff to trace the faint current of mana that bled through the forest. More runes revealed themselves the further they went, carved deep into trees, each one a thread in what seemed to be a vast and sinister web.

  Soren began to understand that this wasn’t some haunted forest the locals had just exaggerated. It was a cage, a trap of sorts. They followed the rest of the trail until the trees parted.

  In the clearing stood it, a massive tree, rotting from the inside out, its bark split in certain places to reveal glowing red veins underneath that pulsed periodically like blood vessels, as if it was sentient. It stood like a monument compared to the surrounding forest, and the very air around it seemed to radiate malevolence.

  “What… what is this?” Soren asked, his voice barely a whisper, trying to make sense of what was in front of him.

  Remi stepped closer towards it, standing next to him. “There’s something buried in the roots. Something more powerful than the rest of the runes we encountered. It has to be the source. I can feel it.”

  Faris circled the edge of the clearing, eyes scanning their surroundings constantly. “These runes… it’s like the whole forest is feeding it.”

  Elise tilted her head slightly, gripping her dagger tighter. “It’s not just drawing the surrounding mana… it’s consuming it.”

  Not long after came the sound, resembling a low clicking hiss, like bone scraping against bone.

  They all froze in place. The branches above them began to rustle violently, and Remi’s light from her staff flared on instinct. Soren stepped back a few feet as something dropped from the trees.

  It landed hard, the ground shaking underneath its weight.

  It was over eight feet in length, and its skin was white and slightly transparent, like old paper pulled to its tightest over twisted muscle and bone. It had six legs, each joined to its body at unnatural angles, and a long tail with sharp ridges that curled in the air like a whip that was ready to strike. Its face was stretched as well, split with rows of jagged teeth and eyes like a raging fire, burning orange in the darkness and mist.

  Soren felt his body's pulse slam in his ears. Jorge raised his axe into both hands. Faris reached over his shoulder for his bow. Remi lifted her staff higher, imbuing her mana into it. Elise’s daggers slid into both her hands, twirling them before getting into stance.

  The creature screeched once, loud enough to make the ground slightly shake, and the clearing erupted into chaos.