The path to Hallowdeep wasn't really a path at all—it felt more like a scar carved into the land, narrow and overgrown, the kind of place that made your skin prickle without knowing why. Aric walked near the front, eyes scanning ahead, but he kept glancing back at the others. No one spoke much. Even Maelis, who usually had something sarcastic to say, was quiet.
The trees had thinned out hours ago. What was left were jagged rocks, low fog, and an unsettling silence that seemed to press in from all sides.
Maelis finally broke it. "I don't like this place."
Aric nodded. "Me neither."
"It's too quiet," she added, her voice low. "Even the crows are gone."
Dain, trudging just behind them, grunted. "This is what it's always like near Hallowdeep. People say the ground here remembers what happened—and it doesn't want it happening again."
They reached a small rise and climbed it slowly. At the top, they found themselves looking down at a sunken structure, half-swallowed by the earth. Cracked stone arches jutted from the ground like broken teeth, and vines crawled over what was left of a collapsed entrance.
"That's it?" Aric asked.
Dain gave a slow nod. "This is one of the old ways into Hallowdeep. Most of the others have caved in—or worse."
A chill crept up Aric's spine. "And we're going in there?"
"We have to," Dain replied. "The map said the ember sigil was taken below."
The group stood in silence for a moment, staring at the half-buried entrance. A faint wind stirred, carrying with it a scent of damp stone and something else—something older. Maelis took a step forward and knelt near the entrance, brushing moss from the stone.
"There's writing here," she said. "It's faded, but… it's a warning."
Aric joined her, squinting at the strange glyphs etched into the stone. He couldn't read them, but he didn't need to.
"Let me guess," he said. "It says, 'turn back now.'"
Maelis looked up at him, face serious. "Close enough."
Dain stepped forward, lighting a small lantern. "Warnings are all that's left of the old world. They never stopped anyone before. Won't stop us now."
Aric hesitated at the threshold. The darkness within the tunnel felt heavier than shadow—it had weight, like something living. For a second, he heard something—or thought he did. A faint whisper. It vanished as quickly as it came.
He shook it off and stepped inside.
The stone walls closed in around them immediately. The air was cold, damp, and thick with the scent of earth and time. They moved slowly, the lantern casting long, flickering shadows ahead. At one point, they passed a crumbling pillar etched with unfamiliar runes. Aric felt something in his chest—like a quiet pressure building.
"Feel that?" he asked.
Maelis glanced at him. "Yeah. Like the air's pressing in."
Dain didn't answer. His eyes were fixed ahead.
They moved deeper, and the whispers returned—too faint to make out words, but enough to raise the hairs on Aric's neck. Something was in these tunnels. Watching. Waiting.
Whatever the ember sigil was… it hadn
't been taken by chance.
And they weren't alone.