Poisonous Crystal Scales

A boy...?

Scarde slowly followed the shadow with cautious steps, gripping the bone handle of his small pocket knife tightly. He felt a tense pull from his sternum, stretching westward, as though he was drawing closer to the ominous, shapeless figure that danced across the walls. His eyes darted constantly, tracking the shadow as it flitted over the plants and windows, moving ever forward. The prince had no idea where the shadow was leading him, and before he realized it, he was pushing aside ivy between two house corners, catching sight of the forest's edge. A lump formed instantly in his throat, and his mind flashed back to that creature from his dreams-the strange, four-eyed blue entity that could swallow him into the darkness.

Yet, as he stood before the forest, the shadow he had been following seemed to slip onto the path, heading deeper into the growing darkness. The forest wasn't as terrifying as he had imagined-thankfully, it didn't look like it did in his nightmares...yet. The wind still played with the beautiful red leaves, though it carried a coolness to it. The breeze tousled Scarde's curly hair, and the ribbons tied to his arms fluttered, though they remained bound to his limbs.

He stared into the forest's depths, his heart somehow calming, while the muscles in his legs tensed on their own and began to move. His steps were slow and careful, as though he were walking on freshly cooled lava stones.

The trees loomed tall and gnarled above him, their twisted branches clawing at the darkening sky like skeletal hands. As the prince stepped deeper into the forest and followed the shadow, the soft crunch of leaves underfoot grew muffled, as though the earth itself had gone silent, holding its breath. The thick canopy overhead swallowed the last remnants of daylight, casting the woods into a near-impenetrable gloom. Shadows danced between the trunks, moving unnaturally, flickering at the edge of his vision, like something was watching, waiting.

The further he went, the more the forest seemed to decay around him. The once-lush greenery faded into sickly hues, the underbrush thinning out, replaced by bare, blackened patches of earth. The trees grew taller, more sparse, their bark cracked and peeling like the skin of something long dead. A cold, unnatural breeze slithered through the air, carrying with it a faint, metallic scent-like blood or rust. His breath came in shallow gasps, his heart pounding in his chest as he pressed forward, fighting the overwhelming sense that something terrible lurked just out of sight.

The silence was maddening. No birds, no insects, just the soft rustle of dead leaves in the wind. Each step echoed louder in his ears, as if the forest itself was amplifying the sound, mocking him for daring to intrude. His fingers brushed against the rough bark of a tree, only to recoil as he realized it felt damp, almost sticky, as though it bled beneath his touch.

The path grew narrower, winding between increasingly crooked trees, their roots jutting out like the twisted bones of a corpse. The oppressive darkness seemed to tighten around him, the air thick and heavy, making it difficult to breathe. His mind raced with images of unseen horrors lurking in the shadows, eyes glowing with malice, claws ready to strike.

But just when the weight of the forest seemed unbearable-when every instinct screamed at him to turn back-he saw it. A soft glow, barely noticeable through the twisted branches ahead.

He pushed forward, driven by a mixture of desperation and hope. As he broke through the last line of dead trees, the oppressive darkness lifted, and he stumbled into a clearing.

The contrast was staggering. Bathed in the gentle light of the setting moon, the meadow stretched out before him, vast and serene. Lush, emerald grass swayed gently in the breeze, dotted with wildflowers in every color imaginable. The air was warm and sweet, carrying the delicate fragrance of lavender and honey. A crystal-clear stream babbled quietly through the center of the glade, its waters sparkling like diamonds under the fading light.

He stood there, breathless, his heart still racing from the terror of the forest. But as he looked around, a profound sense of peace washed over him. The horrors of the woods melted away, replaced by the quiet beauty of the meadow, like a sanctuary hidden at the heart of a nightmare.

The little stream shimmered in the moonlight, as if thousands of tiny crystals lay on its bed. Slowly, he looked around, marveling at the clearing's beauty. But as he approached the stream, he saw a figure-pure white-lying in the crystal-clear water.

A pure white figure lay in the stream. His long robe of white silk clung to his body, wet and pale-so pale that even the moon might envy his beauty. The silk draped over him like a second skin, flowing around him with delicate elegance. His hair shimmered in the water, spread out like a radiant halo, floating gracefully in every direction. Scarde thought that if he saw the figure standing, he would be certain that those lustrous locks would reach the ground, perhaps even further. It was a breathtaking sight, and the prince quickly realized that the figure before him was a young boy.

A sudden pang of worry stabbed at Scarde's heart as he realized the boy was lying here, in the cursed forest, at night, under the pale light of the moon, in the middle of the stream-so stunning, so beyond words. He looked about Scarde's age. -What should i do...- The prince wondered, torn between fear and the overwhelming need to help, when suddenly his eyes caught something strange. Red ripples flowed through the stream, reflecting back at him like crimson waves.

Oh no. What should he do now?