INTO THE FLAMES

Chapter Six: The Whispering Woods

Dawn broke in hues of amber and rose, painting the sky above the fog-draped hills as Marvis stirred from his restless sleep. The faint smell of damp earth and pine clung to the morning air. He blinked, his gaze shifting to Elias, who crouched nearby, sharpening his sword with meticulous care.

"You didn't sleep," Marvis said, his voice groggy.

Elias didn't look up. "Someone had to keep watch."

Marvis frowned, pulling his cloak tighter around him as the early chill seeped into his bones. "I could've taken a shift."

A wry smile tugged at Elias's lips. "You needed the rest. Besides, you looked peaceful. I didn't want to disturb you."

Marvis opened his mouth to argue but stopped short, his cheeks warming slightly. He quickly busied himself with packing their meager supplies.

"We should get moving," Elias said, standing and sheathing his sword in one fluid motion.

Marvis nodded, slinging his bag over his shoulder. As they set off, the trees grew denser, their twisted branches forming a canopy that cast the path ahead in shadow. The Whispering Woods loomed before them, its name a hushed warning carried on the wind.

---

The woods were eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant call of a bird. The deeper they ventured, the more Marvis felt the weight of the forest pressing down on him.

"Why do people fear this place?" Marvis asked, breaking the silence.

Elias glanced at him, his amber eyes scanning the trees. "Stories, mostly. Tales of travelers who entered the woods and never came out. Some say it's cursed, others that it's haunted. Either way, it's enough to keep most people out."

"And yet, here we are," Marvis muttered.

Elias chuckled softly. "You'll find most of those stories are exaggerated. Though," he added, his tone growing serious, "the woods do have their dangers."

Marvis arched a brow. "Such as?"

Before Elias could answer, a faint sound reached their ears—a whisper, so soft it was almost indistinguishable from the rustling leaves. Marvis froze, his heart skipping a beat.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered.

Elias nodded, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword. "Stay close to me."

The whispers grew louder, swirling around them like a chorus of unseen voices. Marvis's breath quickened, his fingers tightening around the dagger hidden beneath his cloak.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"I don't know," Elias admitted, his gaze darting through the shadows. "But whatever it is, it's not friendly."

A sudden movement caught Marvis's eye—a flicker of light darting between the trees. He turned, his pulse racing, but the figure was gone before he could get a clear look.

"Elias," he said urgently, "we're not alone."

"I know," Elias replied, his voice low and steady.

The whispers grew into a cacophony, the disembodied voices overlapping in a chilling symphony. Marvis could make out fragments of words—warnings, pleas, threats—but they were jumbled and incoherent.

Then, without warning, the ground beneath their feet shifted. Marvis stumbled, barely managing to stay upright as the earth seemed to ripple like water.

"Move!" Elias shouted, grabbing Marvis's arm and pulling him forward.

They broke into a run, the forest blurring around them as the whispers turned into a deafening roar. The air grew heavy, the shadows deepening until it felt as though they were running through a tunnel of darkness.

"What's happening?" Marvis gasped, his lungs burning.

"The forest is waking up," Elias said grimly. "Keep running!"

They burst into a small clearing, the sudden light blinding after the oppressive gloom of the woods. Marvis collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath.

Elias stood over him, his sword drawn and his eyes scanning the treeline. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice taut with urgency.

Marvis shook his head, though his hands were trembling. "What… what was that?"

Elias didn't answer immediately, his attention still fixed on the shadows. Finally, he sheathed his sword and turned to Marvis. "The Whispering Woods have their own magic," he said. "Ancient and unpredictable. You're lucky it didn't swallow you whole."

Marvis swallowed hard, his fear giving way to a simmering anger. "You knew this could happen, and you still brought us here?"

Elias's expression hardened. "It was our best option. Would you rather face the men hunting us?"

Marvis glared at him but said nothing. He hated that Elias was right.

---

They pressed on cautiously, the clearing offering a brief reprieve before the forest closed in around them again. The whispers had faded, but an uneasy silence remained, hanging over them like a shroud.

As they walked, Marvis found his thoughts drifting back to the night before—to Elias standing watch, to the rare vulnerability he had glimpsed in the other man's eyes.

"Why did you say yes?" Marvis asked suddenly.

Elias glanced at him. "To what?"

"To helping me. To getting involved in this mess."

Elias was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. "Because I know what it's like to be hunted," he said finally.

Marvis frowned. "You said that before. But what does it mean?"

Elias hesitated, his jaw tightening. "I wasn't always… the man you see now," he said carefully. "There was a time when I trusted the wrong people. Paid the price for it."

Marvis's curiosity piqued. "What happened?"

Elias shook his head. "It's not a story for now. But let's just say I know what betrayal feels like. And I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

Marvis studied him, his anger softening. For all of Elias's guardedness, there was a pain beneath the surface that Marvis recognized all too well.

Before he could respond, the forest opened up before them, revealing a small, secluded glade. In the center stood a massive oak tree, its gnarled branches stretching skyward like skeletal fingers.

"We'll camp here for the night," Elias said, setting his pack down at the base of the tree.

Marvis nodded, though unease still churned in his stomach. He couldn't shake the feeling that the forest was watching them, its unseen eyes following their every move.

---

As night fell, the air grew colder, and the whispers returned—softer this time, like a distant murmur carried on the wind. Marvis sat by the fire, his gaze fixed on the flames as Elias kept watch nearby.

"You should sleep," Elias said after a while.

Marvis shook his head. "I doubt I could, even if I tried."

Elias sighed, sitting down beside him. The firelight danced across his features, casting shadows that made him look both younger and more weathered at once.

"For what it's worth," Elias said quietly, "you've handled all this better than most would."

Marvis gave a bitter laugh. "I don't feel like I'm handling it at all."

Elias's lips curved into a faint smile. "You're still here, aren't you?"

Marvis looked at him, surprised by the warmth in his tone. For a moment, the weight of the forest and the key and the dangers ahead seemed to lift, leaving only the quiet crackle of the fire and the steady presence of the man beside him.

"Thank you," Marvis said softly.

Elias's smile widened, just slightly. "Don't thank me yet. We're not out of this mess."

Marvis chuckled, the sound tinged with both humor and exhaustion. As the whispers faded into the night, he allowed himself to lean back against the tree, his eyes growing heavy.

For the first time since entering the Whispering Woods, he felt a flicker of hope.