Lana
The first fog descended before we even saw any buildings.
It came like a white blanket stretching between the trees, dancing across the ground like a living creature. At first it was thin, like a breath on a cold morning. But the further we walked, the denser it became—heavier, as if the very air was thickening.
"I don't like this," Sylas whispered, his hand already on his dagger.
"You never like many things," Kaelith replied, his eyes scanning the area.
"This time, I'm actually serious."
I tightened my cloak and moved closer to Lucen. He was leading at the front, his steps slow but steady. Ever since we exited the forest, the road had changed drastically—damp ground, colder air, and trees shaped strangely, as if bending to whisper to one another.
"This is the place?" I asked in a low voice.
Lucen nodded without looking back. "We're almost there."
