A scream echoed through the camp, shattering the silence of the night. Duane rushed toward the source of the sound, only to find a sword lying on the ground — its blade corroded and partially dissolved. Behind him, Hale and Biggy arrived, their eyes wide with confusion. Hale was the first to speak.
"Sir, what does this mean?"
Duane remained silent, his gaze fixed on the dark forest ahead. Finally, he spoke in a low, tense voice.
"Hale, the camp is much closer to the Black Forest than it was before. We weren't this close the first time we set up here... something's happening."
Hale frowned, confused. "What do you mean, closer? We've been marching for three days, and nothing unusual happened."
Duane pointed toward the horizon, his tone heavy with concern.
"See that red banner? You were the one who planted it. Back then, it took a hundred steps to reach this spot. Now, you only need fifteen... and the forest is barely ten steps beyond that."
Hale's eyes widened in disbelief. He ran to measure the distance himself — and when he returned, his face was pale.
"You're right, sir... the distance has shrunk, just like you said."
Duane's voice turned grim. "There are only two possibilities... either the forest is moving toward us — or it's pulling us in."
A silence fell between them, heavy and oppressive. Then Hale whispered, almost trembling,
"Or maybe... both."
---
Night descended upon the Imperial Palace. The Emperor stood on his balcony, staring at the horizon. His face was drawn and weary — it was clear he hadn't slept or eaten in days. Suddenly, his expression shifted from fatigue to dread. He turned and hurried inside, his steps echoing against the marble.
He entered the Chamber of the Board — the hall where the fateful stones of power were kept. His minister watched silently as the Emperor placed a hand on one of the stones. With a subtle gesture, the stone slid aside, revealing a staircase spiraling downward.
The Emperor descended quickly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one had followed. Behind him, the stone returned to its place, sealing him within the secret passage. As he descended, torches ignited on their own, illuminating the path ahead. After a long descent, he reached a vast, ancient gate. Strange serpents carved into its surface seemed almost alive.
He muttered a few inaudible words. The snakes stirred — and the gate opened with a deep hiss. He stepped inside a circular chamber. In its center stood a broken mirror, faintly shimmering, surrounded by flickering torches that had lit themselves.
The Emperor smiled faintly, his voice low and almost pleading.
"My apologies... for not visiting you sooner. You know I rule this empire — my duties keep me from you. But trouble has risen again, and I came to seek your counsel... as I always have. Will you speak to me?"
---
At the same time, in the village of Kazbona, Frank walked alone beneath the moonlight. The night was quiet, and the silver light cast long shadows across the path. He trudged forward, tired but steady.
Then — faint whispers reached his ears. At first, they were only fragments — soft murmurs that seemed to float in the air.
"...who can...""...he is coming..."
Sometimes, he could swear he heard his name whispered among them.
A shiver ran down his spine. He lifted his eyes and saw a large black crow perched atop a tree branch, its eyes pale white, glowing faintly. Around its leg coiled a white serpent.
Frank felt unseen eyes watching him from every direction. Then a scent reached him — thick and acrid. Smoke.
He turned his head and saw flames in the distance — something large was burning. He sprinted toward the fire. When he arrived, he found the villagers desperately trying to extinguish a blazing house. Amid the chaos, shouting, and rushing for water, no one knew if anyone was trapped inside.
Frank's face went pale. There was another smell — one no one else seemed to notice. Burning flesh.
Without thinking, he ran toward the house, but the heat was too intense. It was as if something inside the fire was resisting him, unwilling to be revealed.
After what felt like hours, the flames were finally subdued. Frank entered the charred ruins — and there, among the ashes, lay the scorched body of a child.
Diana arrived moments later, followed by her father, Dagus. The villagers gathered, whispering in shock.
Diana spoke quietly, her voice trembling.
"Last night... I treated her little boy. He had wounds on his hands and legs, but he didn't cry... he just stared at me with those empty eyes. But... where's the old woman? And how did the fire start?"
Frank didn't answer. He stood still, staring into the smoldering remains, while the moon hid behind the clouds — as if it, too, was afraid of what might rise again from the ashes.