In a hunt for the enthusiast

And now the road to Wraithwood lay before us, narrow as a finger, flanked by great old oaks whose branches, twisted into impossible parabolas, formed above it a skeleton canopy of living wood. Every step felt like pulling us into some realm in which legend and reality lost all difference; shadows danced and wove about of their own volition, and the air felt thick with an almost touchable tension.

Lira scanned every rustle and movement in the underbrush, leading the way as she did. Behind her, Tarek gripped his side, grimacing, but he wouldn't slow. I brought up the rear, every sense on high alert, going over Sir Alden's final words in my mind.

"Trust the forest, but trust each other more."

Abruptly, Lira froze, holding up a hand for silence. We did likewise. From the underbrush, a soft, haunting whisper wailed across the breeze-a sound like the faint tolling of some darker, ominous chimes.

"What is that?" Tarek breathed, his voice near-whispered.

"Wraithsong," I said, repeating stories. The woods called to travelers, tempting them from the path. Only a few came back.

"We're going on. Don't even hear it." My own words betrayed my own nervous determination.

As we pressed on, the whispering grew louder, more insistent. Shapes seemed to form within the mist, familiar faces of lost comrades. A test, I knew, but it gnawed at my mind.

The path suddenly opened into a clearing. At its center stood a stone altar, weathered and ancient, carved with symbols none of us recognized. Lira approached cautiously.

"What is this place?" she whispered.

A threshold," a voice out of the darkness said.

We turned. A figure emerged, cloaked in dark and dark green, eyes like shining steel. Others stepped from behind him, silent as the woods themselves, weapons at the ready but not levelled.

"You want the Wraithwood's warriors," the leader said, approaching us. Their face was veiled by a hood, but his very presence was commanding. "Why?

I strode forward, looking into unseen eyes. "We come in search of allies against the Blackwood Legion. Our kingdom is at the edge of ruin."

A murmur ran through the assembly. The leader tilted her head forward. "And you think we will fight for you?"

"If the tales are told, you fight against darkness. Blackwood's evil will consume everything, even this forest.

Silence stretched between us. Then the leader's lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "The Wraithwood does not fight for kingdoms. We fight for balance. The Legion's corruption has disturbed that balance."

"So you'll help us?" Lira asked, hope flickering in her voice.

The leader raised a hand, and the warriors behind them melted back into the forest. "Perhaps. But first, you must prove yourselves worthy."

What sort of test?" I asked, stomach sinking.

The leader's eyes glittered. "Survival. Follow the path past the altar. Face what is awaiting you. If you return, we will speak."

And they disappeared into shadows, leaving us alone in clearing. Beyond the altar lay path darker, more ominous, than anything we had faced up to so far.

Lira pulled on her sword with tighter grip. "Appears that is it.

No," I replied, the weight of the road ahead settling over me. "But we've come too far to turn back now."

Taking our step onto the path made the forest seem to close about us. The air would grow colder, the whispering louder. The actual test was underway.