Kyron gently pulled back the reigns on his horse to ride side by side with Sorcha.
“Something seems to be on your mind, I can tell by the distant look you’re wearing.”
Sorcha’s shoulders dropped as she hunched over slightly, letting out a loud exhale. She didn’t want to talk about it all, at least not her parents; that wound was deep and would surely be her undoing today. Riona flickered across her mind again.
“I know you haven’t known me for long,” Sorcha began, her voice tinged with unease.
“But Riona was my best friend. I mean… sheis, or maybe shewas? I don’t even know anymore.”
She sighed, her vision fixed on the path ahead. “We were so close, we shared everything from the
moment we met at Druid School.”
Her voice grew quieter as she continued.
“She didn’t even say goodbye. I wanted to give her space, I really did, but every time I tried to be there for her, it was like she was pushing me away.”
Sorcha trailed off, lost in her thoughts. Then, after a long pause, she murmured, “I’m sorry. I know I’m ranting”
Kyron glanced at her, choosing his words carefully before speaking.
“It sounds like you feel abandoned,” he said gently “Like you deserved an explanation, a reason why. And maybe you did. But have you considered that maybe she just… couldn’t give you one? From what you’ve said, it sounds like her pain might have been too deep, like saying goodbye might have made it worse, not better.”
His gaze shifted to the storm clouds ahead, as if searching for the right words midst the rolling gray. “If you two were as close as you say, then there’s probably a good reason. Maybe she just didn’t have the strength to face you. And who knows? You might see her at Samhain. If you do, I’d approach her gently. Give her the space she needs to explain when she’s ready.”
Sorcha fell silent, her mind swirling with Kyron’s words. She hadn’t stopped to consider Riona’s perspective, that maybe saying goodbye had been too painful for her.
The thought left Sorcha with a pang of guilt for her earlierresentment. Just as she was about to ask Kyron more about his past, the rain began to fall.
At first, it was a gentle pitter patter, the earthy scent calming as the wind blew softly around them. But as Na Crainn Fána came into view, the wind picked up, swirling violently and causing the trees to sway in what could almost be described as a frantic dance. The rain turned needle-like, stinging Sorcha’s face as it pelted her skin. They urged their horses forward, riding faster to find the cover of the trees and some reprieve from the storm. By the time they reached the edge of the woods, the thick canopy broke up the rain, and the wind became less fierce. The river that flowed through the land was raging, its thrashing waters threatening to spill over its banks at any moment.
Kyron and Sorcha decided to leave their horses on higher ground before continuing on foot. The woods felt dark, shadows lurking in the trees. Sorcha’s chest tightened as unease crept over her, her nightmares flooding back, visions of the Fomorian that had chased her and theunfamiliar woods that haunted her dreams. There was something…callingto her from deep within the trees, it sent shivers through her body. It was like Meadowrun. She turned to Kyron, fear flickering in her eyes. “Kyron, I don’t think we should go in. This feels wrong. I can’t explain it, but wecan’tgo in there,” she pleaded.
Kyron’s expression grew serious; concern etched across his face. “Sorcha, what’s going on? he asked, his tone steady. “We have to go in, we need to know if there’s decay here, and if there’s anything else, anything dangerous. It’s important.”
His voice was calm but resolute, and Sorcha searched his eyes for any sign of hesitation or doubt. There was none. She took a shaky breath, trying to push down the rising dread in her chest. Maybe she was letting her nightmares get the best of her, allowing them to cloud her judgment. She couldn’t let that happen, not now, not when her work was at stake.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she steadied herself and nodded.
“Okay,” she said quietly, her voice firmer this time. “Let’s go.”
With that, they stepped into the woods, the dense shadows swallowing them as the storm raged on outside. As they entered the woods, nothing seemed ominous at first. The gentle chirping of birds filled the air, accompanied by the soft crunch of fallen leaves underfoot, trees shedding their coats in preparation for winter. The steady rhythm of rain pattering against the canopy and forest floor created an almost peaceful atmosphere. But there was an unusual amount of movement on the forest floor, rustling and scattering in all directions. They froze, listening. The sounds grew louder, animals running… no, stampeding. A massive formation of elk and deer barreled through the trees, their hooves thundering against the earth. The ground seemed to vibrate beneath them.
Kyron looked at Sorcha and screamed, “RUN!” He grabbed her hand and whipped her around, trying to keep ahead of the stampede. They ran as hard and as fast as they could, moving swiftly through the brush,jumping over logs and roots. Sorcha glanced back and, in the distance, she saw it; it was large, cloaked in shadow. She couldn’t make out its full form, but she saw its teeth razor sharp and hands like blades. Its head twisted unnaturally to the side as it followed.
“Kyron!” she yelled, panic thick in her voice. “Something is chasing the elk!”
Kyron risked a glance back, and his expression darkened. Without hesitation, he grabbed Sorcha’s arm. “Hold on, we’re moving. Whatever you do, don’t let go!”
With that, Kyron’s free hand began tracing patterns in the air, his movements swift and deliberate. Light flared to life, runes glowing brightly against the darkness. Slowly, they were lifted, gliding forward with incredible speed as the ground blurred beneath them.
Within moments, the thunder of hooves and the shadowed creature’s presence faded into the distance. They found themselves standing at the edge of a clearing.
Kyron’s legs gave out as he slumped to the ground, visibly drained. He leaned forward, hands bracedon his knees, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Sorcha looked around and realized this wasn’t a clearing at all, it was a void. The forest was dead. Trees twisted and bent unnaturally, some touching the earth and entangling with others to form a grotesque web across the ground. Black and grey creatures, long since dead, lay scattered, their bodies pierced and overtaken by sprouting black vines and strange, spiny growths. The earth was littered with animal remains, bones protruding like a rocky cliff face.
The smell that followed hit her like a physical blow, a suffocating wave of decay and rot so intense it burned her throat. Sorcha turned to Kyron, whose expression mirrored her own horror, etched into every line of his face. His eyes were wide as he searched the area around them. She looked back at the scene below, where smaller twisted creatures like squirrels and foxes struggled to move across the desolate expanse. Each step seemed to pull them deeper into the blackened earth, as if the ground itself were alive and dragging them under like quicksand.
She wanted to turn away, but she couldn’t move. Her breath caught as the tar like water in the center of the barren void rippled in an unnatural pattern. From its surface, a dark slithering form began to rise, its movements slow and deliberate. The creature swiped at the struggling animals with chilling precision, dragging them beneath the surface. A sharp crack broke the stillness. The wet snap of bones was followed by a crunch that made Sorcha’s chest tighten.
