The forest remained unnaturally still.
Darian stared into the darkness where the Shadow Hounds had vanished. Every instinct told him to run, yet his legs refused to move.
"They're gone," he whispered.
"For now," Serenya answered.
She kept her sword raised, her eyes searching the tree line. The silver runes engraved along its blade gradually dimmed until they became nothing more than etched lines in the steel.
Only then did she return the sword to its scabbard.
Darian let out a slow breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"I thought they were going to kill us."
"They were."
He looked at her.
"Then... why did they stop?"
Serenya didn't answer immediately.
She walked to the edge of the clearing where the beasts had stood. Kneeling, she brushed aside the leaves.
Deep claw marks scarred the earth.
Fresh.
But something else caught her attention.
She frowned.
"They weren't hunting."
Darian stepped closer.
"What do you mean?"
She pointed toward the marks.
"Look carefully."
Instead of scattered tracks left by wild animals, the prints formed a rough circle around the camp.
"They surrounded us," Darian murmured.
Serenya nodded.
"They were testing us."
A chill settled over him.
"Testing?"
"They wanted to see who carried Rowan's secret."
Darian instinctively touched the hidden letter beneath his tunic.
"So... they know?"
"They know someone escaped."
She stood.
"What they don't know..."
Her eyes met his.
"...is exactly who."
The fire had burned low.
Serenya scattered dirt over the remaining embers until only faint wisps of smoke rose into the night.
"We leave now."
"So soon?"
"We're already behind."
"I thought we were resting."
"We were."
She tightened the straps of her cloak.
"And now we're running again."
Darian groaned under his breath but followed.
The deeper they ventured into the forest, the older the trees became.
Massive trunks rose like pillars toward the heavens.
Their twisted roots coiled across the earth, forcing the pair to pick every step carefully.
Moonlight barely reached the forest floor.
Everything beyond a few paces disappeared into darkness.
Darian shivered.
"This place feels..."
"Wrong?"
He nodded.
Serenya glanced around.
"This is the Whispering Woods."
"The stories?"
"They're true."
He laughed nervously.
"I was hoping you wouldn't say that."
"They say the forest remembers everyone who dies beneath its branches."
Darian looked around uneasily.
"Please tell me that's only a story."
"I wish I could."
A sudden crack echoed somewhere ahead.
Both froze.
Another crack.
Like wood breaking beneath heavy boots.
Serenya raised a hand.
"Someone's coming."
They slipped behind the broad roots of an ancient oak.
Moments later, three riders emerged between the trees.
They wore dark cloaks over black armor.
No banners.
No royal colors.
Only a strange symbol burned into their shoulder plates.
A hollow flame.
Darian's pulse quickened.
"The same mark..."
Serenya's expression hardened.
"The Order of the Hollow Flame."
The riders paused where the Shadow Hounds' trail disappeared.
One dismounted.
He crouched, studying the disturbed earth.
Without a word, he placed two fingers against one of the claw prints.
The mark glowed faintly.
Then faded.
"He can read the trail," Serenya whispered.
"We have to leave."
"Not yet."
The man slowly turned his head.
Although his face remained hidden beneath a hood...
He looked directly toward their hiding place.
Darian held his breath.
Had they been seen?
The man smiled.
It was small.
Cold.
Almost amused.
Then he climbed back onto his horse.
"They're heading east," he said calmly.
"Toward Frostvale."
Darian's blood froze.
"How does he know?"
Serenya's face paled.
"They're guessing."
"Are you sure?"
"No..."
She looked toward the riders disappearing between the trees.
"...I'm afraid they're not."
For nearly another hour they walked in silence.
Neither dared speak above a whisper.
Just before dawn, the trees began to thin.
Ahead lay a narrow river flowing over smooth grey stones.
Serenya knelt beside the water.
"Drink."
Darian fell to his knees.
The icy water soothed his dry throat.
For a brief moment...
Everything felt normal again.
Until he noticed Serenya staring at the opposite bank.
"What is it?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she pointed.
Carved into the trunk of an old birch tree was the same symbol they had seen on the riders' armor.
A hollow flame.
But beneath it...
Fresh.
Still dripping with dark paint...
Was a single word.
FOUND
Neither of them spoke.
The message needed no explanation.
Someone had reached the river before them.
Someone knew exactly where they were going.
A cold wind swept through the trees.
Far away...
A raven took flight.
Watching.
Waiting.
And somewhere beyond the Whispering Woods...
A man dressed entirely in black looked toward the eastern mountains.
He smiled.
"The game has begun."