Chapter-30
Chapter: The Path of Twisted Woods
The path ahead winds deeper into the heart of the twisted woods, each step pulling us further from what Wonderland once was and deeper into the corruption that now grips it. The trees are no longer just trees—they are watching. Their gnarled branches shift and creak, skeletal fingers scraping against my coat as I pass. The ground, damp and treacherous, seems almost unwilling to let me proceed, sucking at my boots with each step. The air is thick, heavy with decay and something else—something unseen, pressing at the edges of my senses like a whisper I'm not meant to hear.
The Mad Hatter stumbles ahead of me, his usual erratic energy dulled by exhaustion, or perhaps fear. He leads the way, but there is little confidence in his movements. He keeps glancing back at me, his gaze a mix of uncertainty and desperate hope. The rabbit on my shoulder remains still, a small, quiet weight against me, its breath warm against my neck.
"The Queen," I prompt after a stretch of silence. "What does she know?"
The Hatter flinches at the sound of my voice, as if I've shaken him from some dark thought. He lets out a dry, brittle laugh. "She knows many things, dear traveler…" His voice is hoarse, lacking its usual manic lilt. "But whether she speaks the truth, or simply the truth as she sees it, well…" He trails off, waving a gloved hand through the air, as if trying to bat away an invisible thought.
"You're stalling," I observe.
"I'm considering my words," he corrects, though there's no real confidence behind it. He sighs. "The Queen is… different now. Stronger. But also… afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
His eyes dart to the shadows between the trees, where unseen things shift and breathe. "Of herself. Of what she's becoming."
Interesting.
The deeper we go, the more unnatural the atmosphere becomes. The trees lean inward, as if eavesdropping. The undergrowth rustles with unseen movement, though nothing reveals itself. The path ahead is dark, winding, and uncertain, but that does not concern me.
"She speaks of an artifact," the Hatter continues hesitantly. "The Heart of Wonderland. A relic from before the Shadow's arrival. She believes it holds the truth of what Wonderland was, before everything changed. Before the madness became this." He gestures at the warped forest around us.
"And what does she intend to do with it?"
He lets out another short, breathy laugh. "What do any of us do when faced with the remnants of something we've lost?" His gaze flickers to mine. "We try to own it."
I smile. A slow, knowing curve of my lips. "Then we have that in common."
The rabbit tenses slightly at my words but says nothing.
Suddenly, the air changes.
A subtle, almost imperceptible shift. The trees stop their creaking. The unseen rustling ceases. The air is listening.
And ahead of us, past the last stretch of twisted trees, the path spills into a clearing bathed in an unnatural, sickly green light.
In its center stands a ruined structure—half-buried in the earth, its carvings eroded by time and corruption. Power hums from it, deep and ancient.
Before I can take another step, a high-pitched shriek pierces the air.
Movement.
From the shadows of the ruins, three grotesque creatures emerge.
They are vaguely hedgehog-like, but wrong. Their bodies are bloated, their quills long and jagged, each one tipped with a strange phosphorescent glow. Their eyes burn red, filled with something primal.
Guardians.
"The Queen's… protectors," the Hatter gasps, shrinking back. "They're… not what they used to be."
I exhale slowly. The rabbit stiffens against my shoulder.
The creatures snarl, their bodies tense, their quills bristling like drawn weapons.
"They never are."
The battle begins.