The first light of morning touched the hollow, pale and hesitant, as if wary of what had happened the night before. The girl had packed the few supplies they could carry, her movements quick and tense, glancing constantly toward the trees.

The warrior struggled to his feet, each motion a battle against pain and exhaustion. His long hair clung to his sweat-soaked brow, and the deep gashes across his arms reminded him how fragile his survival still was. Yet, something in his chest pushed him onward—a faint spark of purpose he could not name.

The shaman stepped ahead, staff in hand, eyes scanning the forest for threats. Every shadow seemed alive, every rustle a warning. She had called upon the dead once already; the forest still remembered.

“Stay close,” she instructed, her voice low, calm, carrying weight without anger. “Do not fall behind. Do not speak unless necessary.”

The girl flinched at the command, but nodded. Her mistrust of the warrior had not faded, yet she understood implicitly that they could not afford hesitation.

The path ahead was narrow, winding through dense undergrowth and twisted roots. The mule carried their scant supplies, stumbling carefully over stones and fallen branches. Birds remained silent, and even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

The warrior’s eyes darted from shadow to shadow, sensing the shift in the air. The energy of the battlefield lingered faintly in the soil, the remnants of what had been called forth the night before brushing against his mind. He did not understand it yet—but he felt it. And he knew instinctively that following them is the only choice.

Hours passed in silence, broken only by the soft tap of the shaman’s staff and the crunch of leaves beneath their feet. The girl occasionally glanced back, scanning for signs of pursuit. Her fear had not left her, but a cautious curiosity had begun to flicker—about the warrior, and about the what was that shadows in the forest. Why they didn’t touch her. Where was the shaman when she reached cave…

The forest slowly thinned as the morning light strengthened, revealing the rough shapes of hills in the distance. Beyond them lay open land, but with it came exposure. The shaman’s eyes narrowed. Danger would not let them pass freely.

And somewhere deep within the woods, the echoes of last night’s chaos still lingered—reminding them that the world beyond the hollow was vast, violent, and waiting.

The journey had begun.