A place that feels like yours

Elara's words hung in the air like a warning bell.

That place is forbidden.

Her tone was quiet but resolute, leaving no room for argument. I glanced at the small wooden house ahead, its weathered exterior barely visible through the trees.

It didn't look particularly threatening, but I could feel the faint pulse of magic in the air around it, almost as if the structure itself were alive.

I turned back to Elara, keeping my expression neutral despite the intrigue swirling in my chest. "Forbidden?" I asked, tilting my head slightly. "Why? It looks harmless enough."

Her brows knit together, and she shifted her weight uneasily. "It's just... a rule," she said vaguely, avoiding my gaze. "Father doesn't let anyone go near it. It's been that way for as long as I can remember."