Shadows in the Trees

The woods are silent.

Not the peaceful kind of silence—the heavy, waiting kind.

The kind that presses against the skin like damp air before a storm.

The kind that means something is watching.

——

Elias and I move carefully along the narrow dirt path, our boots sinking slightly into the damp earth. The air is thick with the scent of wet bark and old leaves, the recent rainfall leaving the ground soft and treacherous beneath us.

"This place feels off," Elias mutters, adjusting his grip on his polearm.

I nod, scanning the twisting trees ahead. "We haven't seen any animals, either. Not even birds."

Elias exhales sharply, shaking his head. "That's not normal, right?"

"No," I say quietly.

Because even wild creatures know when to run.

And yet—we keep going.

——

The first sign of trouble is the tracks.

Faint imprints in the softened ground, partially washed out by the rain. Too small for humans, too organized for animals.

I crouch, brushing my fingers over the marks. "Weird? not wolves. Maybe... Imps?"

Elias leans over my shoulder. "How can you tell?"

I tap one of the deeper prints. "See how the toes are clawed? And the way they group together? Wolves don't walk like this. Neither do deer."

Elias hums. "Alright, smart girl. So how many are we looking at?"

I study the spacing, the weight distribution. "At least five or six. But…"

I pause.

Something is wrong.

The tracks don't just lead through the trees.

They circle back.

Over and over.

Elias notices it at the same time I do.

"You're telling me these things were just… pacing around?" he mutters.

I frown. "Almost like they were waiting for something."

And then—

A sound.

A low, sharp chittering.

Not from ahead.

From above.

——

The branches snap as the first Imp drops from the trees, lunging for us with a rusted dagger.

I roll back just in time, the blade slicing through empty air where my throat had been.

Elias swears, pivoting as two more leap from the shadows, their small, twisted bodies moving unnaturally fast.

"Above us?!" Elias grits out, swinging his polearm up to deflect one of the attackers.

"They're ambushing us!" I snap, kicking one of the Imps back before drawing my sword.

More shapes flicker through the trees, yellow eyes glinting in the dim light. Their skin is dark and leathery, patches of crude armour strapped over their thin frames.

And they are grinning.

Like they planned this.

Like they were waiting for us.

——

The fight is fast.

The first Imp comes at me again, slashing wildly. I sidestep, bringing my sword up in a clean arc—steel meeting flesh.

The Imp shrieks, stumbling back, but not falling.

I curse under my breath.

They aren't dying easily.

Elias, beside me, grits his teeth, swinging his polearm in a wide arc, forcing another Imp back.

And then—

His shadow flickers.

For just a second, I see it—

The Black Spirit's energy rippling around him, the air around his fingertips distorting.

And then—

A dark sphere launches from his palm, slamming into the chest of an approaching Imp.

The creature staggers, shrieking as if it had been burned, clutching at its torso in confusion.

It is still alive—but it is afraid.

Elias exhales, his stance shifting. "Huh."

I barely have time to react before another Imp lunges for my legs, its teeth bared.

I twist at the last second, shifting my balance—

And Elias is already there.

He slams the base of his polearm into the Imp's ribs, sending it skidding back into the mud.

"You good?" he breathes.

I nod, catching my breath. "You just—"

"Yeah," he mutters, flexing his fingers. "I noticed."

His Black Spirit ability.

It isn't just growing.

It is changing.

And I don't know what that means yet.

——

The last two Imps, seeing the tide of the fight shift, do something unexpected.

They retreat.

Not in a panic.

Not in desperation.

They move together, slipping into the undergrowth like they had been given an order to fall back.

Elias watches them go, breathing heavy. "Okay. That's creepy."

I swallow. "They weren't just attacking."

Elias frowns. "What do you mean?"

I exhale, scanning the clearing, the faint traces of movement still in the dirt.

"They were testing us."

Elias stills.

His expression darkens, the implications settling between us.

They weren't just attacking at random.

They were watching how we fought.

Studying.

Learning.

Preparing.

——

We don't speak much on the way back to camp.

The wind has picked up again, the trees shifting uneasily.

Velia's problems aren't just random monster attacks.

Something is changing in these lands.

And we have just walked into it.