The Wisteria Accond

Chapter Four

The forest closes around us like a shroud, the trees thickening and the light dimming until it feels like twilight, even though the sun hasn't fully set. The air grows colder, tinged with a damp, earthy scent. Every step forward seems to draw us deeper into a place where the world feels... thinner, somehow. As if something else is lurking just beyond the veil.

Ashen moves ahead of us, its steps silent, purposeful. I keep my eyes on its back, my grip on my daggers loose but ready. Soren walks beside me, his gaze darting between the shadows, alert for any sign of danger. The weight of what we're doing settles heavily in my chest, but there's no turning back now. Not when we're this close to uncovering the truth.

"We're heading toward the Wailing Grove," Soren murmurs, his voice low to avoid carrying in the still air.

I nod. The Wailing Grove is a place few dare to tread—a patch of forest known for its eerie, unnatural quiet. Stories say the trees there whisper to each other, carrying the voices of the dead, and that those who venture too deep are never seen again. It's been marked on our maps as a no-go zone for years.

"You really think the source of the Nightborne curse is in there?" I ask, keeping my voice low.

Ashen doesn't turn around but responds, "Not the source... but a doorway, perhaps. A place where the veil between worlds is thin."

I exchange a look with Soren, who arches an eyebrow. "A doorway?" I repeat. "To where?"

"To the heart of the darkness that haunts these woods," Ashen says. "To the force that twists and corrupts. We call it the Void."

A shiver runs down my spine at the word. There's something about the way Ashen says it that makes it feel... alive. Sentient. Dangerous.

We keep moving, the forest growing denser around us. The trees are gnarled and twisted, their branches reaching out like skeletal hands. The undergrowth thickens, making it harder to see the ground beneath our feet. I can hear the faint rustling of unseen creatures skittering away, as if even they fear what lies ahead.

"Why now?" I ask, breaking the uneasy silence. "Why tell us this now, after all these years?"

Ashen slows, finally turning to face me. Its face is half-shadowed, eyes still glowing with that strange, stormy light. "Because something has changed. The Void is growing hungrier. Stronger. The attacks you've faced are not just desperate raids—they're the Void's way of feeding."

"Feeding on what?" Soren asks, his tone skeptical but interested.

"On fear," Ashen replies. "On pain. On conflict. It thrives on the chaos of our war. And it has set its sights on something more—something powerful enough to tip the balance in its favor."

I think back to the tales I told the children, of the mythical figure who used the wisteria to protect humans. "The Wisteria Accord," I say softly. "Is that why you've been trying to breach our borders? To get to the Accord?"

Ashen nods, its expression grim. "The wisteria is more than just a barrier. It's a weapon—a ward against the Void's influence. But its power is fading. And if it falls, the Void will consume everything."

My heart sinks at the gravity of its words. I glance at Soren, who looks just as troubled. "So, what's your plan?" I ask Ashen. "You can't expect us to believe that you're just here to help us."

"No," it says, and there's a hint of something like amusement in its voice. "I don't expect you to trust me. But I can show you the truth. Then, perhaps, you'll see that our fates are bound together."

I take a breath, steeling myself. "Lead the way."

Ashen continues, and we follow, the forest growing darker with each step. The Wailing Grove looms ahead, the trees more twisted and tightly packed, their bark a deep, bruised purple that almost seems to pulse with a faint light. I can hear it now—the faint, mournful sound like distant wails carried on the wind. It's unsettling, a sound that seems to reach inside and twist something deep in my gut.