{IRIS}
I touched the cold metal instinctively, my fingers lingering against its edge as if I could anchor myself to its chill.
"Thank you, Zephyros," I said softly. "It seems my debt to you only grows."
A rare smile crossed his face—brief, sharp, and altogether unsettling. "Good," he replied. "Let it grow. One day, you won't be able to refuse what I ask in return."
My heart stuttered—not with fear, but with something far more dangerous. Dread, perhaps, sharpened by curiosity.
Why did it feel as though whatever he intended to ask would be outrageous enough to ruin me?
The pentagram beneath my feet began to glow.
Light devoured the world.
When my vision returned, I was standing in the heart of an ancient forest—airless, oppressive, and unnervingly still, as though the land itself had learned to hold its breath.
Towering trees crowded in from every side, their bark twisted and scarred, their branches clawing overhead like skeletal hands.
