Into the Forest

Chapter 7: Into the Forest

The thick canopy overhead cast the forest in a near-perpetual twilight, the sunlight barely filtering through the tangled branches. Lucian moved silently through the underbrush, his steps deliberate, his eyes scanning the path ahead. The map the trader had given him was clutched tightly in his hand, its edges worn and creased from days of travel. The ruins of Ildenor—the legendary place where he hoped to find power—lay deep within these woods.

He had heard stories about the ruins since he was a boy. The tales spoke of an ancient city, long forgotten, buried beneath layers of time and decay. According to legend, Ildenor had once been home to powerful sorcerers who had defied even the gods. Some said their magic still lingered there, waiting to be claimed by anyone brave—or foolish—enough to seek it out.

The thought of such power was intoxicating, but Lucian kept his mind focused. The trader who had sold him the map had been vague about the specifics, but one thing had been clear: the journey to Ildenor would be perilous. The forest itself was treacherous, filled with dangers both natural and magical. And then there were the ruins themselves, rumored to be haunted by the remnants of the sorcerers who had once ruled the city.

Lucian wasn't afraid, though. He had faced worse. He had already lost too much to turn back now.

He adjusted the pack slung over his shoulder, pulling the map from his cloak to study it again. The forest around him stretched for miles, dense and unyielding, but according to the map, the path to Ildenor would soon take him deeper into the heart of the woods, where the trees grew thicker, and the light of the sun barely reached the forest floor.

The ruins weren't far, and the thought gave him a surge of hope. Hope, however, was a dangerous thing for someone like him. It had betrayed him too many times before.

His hand tightened around the map as he pressed forward, the crunch of leaves underfoot the only sound in the stillness of the forest. The wind barely stirred the branches overhead, and the deeper he went, the more the silence closed in around him.

But something else nagged at him—a feeling he couldn't shake. The forest was too quiet. It wasn't just the absence of birds or animals, but the stillness itself felt unnatural. As if the forest was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Lucian's instincts told him he wasn't alone.

He paused, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the surrounding trees. The shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally, twisting and bending as the light of day began to fade. For a moment, he thought he saw movement—a flicker of something out of place—but when he turned to look, there was nothing.

He shook his head. Paranoia, he thought bitterly. The forest plays tricks on the mind. And yet, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he was being watched.

Just as he was about to move forward, the faintest sound reached his ears—a cough. Barely audible, but unmistakable.

Lucian's body tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his blade as he moved toward the sound. He stepped quietly, his boots making barely a whisper against the damp earth, until he reached a small clearing.

There, lying just beyond the edge of the trees, was a woman. She was crumpled on the ground, her clothes torn and bloodstained, her body trembling as she coughed weakly.

Lucian's breath caught. He hadn't expected to find anyone out here, so far from civilization. The woman looked like she had been through hell—her skin was pale, her hair matted with blood and dirt, and her eyes fluttered weakly as if struggling to stay conscious.

Without thinking, Lucian moved toward her.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, kneeling beside her.

The woman's eyes flickered open, but she didn't seem to register him at first. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Lucian leaned closer, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Who did this to you?" he asked, his voice low and urgent.

Finally, the woman managed to speak, though her voice was barely more than a whisper. "Bandits... they took everything..."

Lucian's eyes swept over her injuries. She had clearly been beaten, and her clothes had been ripped and torn as though she had been dragged through the forest. Bandits, he thought grimly. He had seen their work before.

He glanced around the clearing, his instincts flaring. Was this a trap? He had encountered enough ambushes in his time to know that things were rarely as they seemed. But as he looked back at the woman, her frail body trembling with pain, he felt a flicker of something—an echo of the man he used to be, the one who had cared about people before the world had betrayed him.

Lucian made a decision.

"Let me help you," he said, his voice steady. He pulled a small pouch from his pack, opening it to reveal a few bandages and a vial of healing salve. "This might sting."

The woman winced as he carefully applied the salve to her wounds, but she didn't cry out. Her breathing was shallow, but she was holding on, her will to survive clear in the way she clung to consciousness.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I thought... I thought I was going to die out here."

Lucian didn't respond immediately. He had seen death too many times to make promises about survival. "What's your name?"

The woman's eyes fluttered open again, and she hesitated before answering. "Alara," she said softly. "My name is Alara."

Lucian nodded, though his thoughts were already elsewhere. Alara's story seemed too convenient. Bandits in these woods weren't uncommon, but finding someone alive after an attack this deep in the forest was rare. And yet, here she was—injured, alone, and vulnerable.

He should have left her. He knew better than to trust strangers. But something about her seemed... different. Or maybe he was just tired of being alone.

"I'll get you to the next village," Lucian said, rising to his feet. "You can rest there."

Alara struggled to sit up, wincing as she moved. "I can't... walk," she whispered, her voice laced with pain. "I don't think I can make it that far."

Lucian frowned. He didn't have time for this. The ruins of Ildenor were his goal, and every delay brought him closer to danger. But he couldn't just leave her here. Not like this.

After a moment's hesitation, Lucian sighed and knelt back down. "I'll help you walk," he said. "Lean on me."

Alara looked up at him, her expression filled with gratitude and something else—something he couldn't quite place. "Thank you," she whispered again, her voice trembling with emotion.

Lucian helped her to her feet, and together they began their slow trek through the forest. As they walked, Alara's grip on his arm tightened, and Lucian found himself wondering why she had been out here alone in the first place. Her story didn't add up.

But for now, he would keep his suspicions to himself.

They walked in silence for what felt like hours, the forest around them growing darker as the sun sank lower in the sky. Alara stumbled more than once, and each time, Lucian caught her, steadying her before she could fall.

As they continued, a strange feeling began to settle over him—a sense that their meeting had not been a coincidence. The forest was vast, the odds of finding her here slim. And yet, she had appeared, just as he was on his way to the ruins.

Lucian's instincts screamed at him to be careful, but he kept his guard up. He couldn't afford to be careless, not now. Not with everything at stake.

"Why were you out here?" Lucian asked after a while, his voice low.

Alara hesitated, her eyes flickering toward the ground. "I was traveling to meet someone," she said quietly. "Someone who could help me... escape my past."

Lucian frowned. "Your past?"

She nodded, her grip tightening on his arm. "I... I made enemies, powerful ones. I thought if I traveled far enough, they wouldn't find me. But... the bandits..."

Lucian didn't respond, his mind churning with possibilities. Her story had gaps—gaps he intended to fill in, once she was strong enough to answer his questions.

For now, though, they walked in silence, the forest closing in around them as night fell.