Blades of Grass

A Seal

The few steps we take reveal just how lost we truly are. The darkness stretches endlessly, swallowing the world around us. The bark of the trees blurs into the void, barely visible beyond ten meters ahead. The deeper we venture, the weaker the light from my flame becomes.

Everyone is tense. Presz has already shrunk beneath his invisibility cloak, his cowardice more comforting than annoying for once. I feed more fire into my flame, urging it to push back the darkness, but no matter how bright it burns, the shadows refuse to yield.

"I hate to suggest this," I begin, glancing at the trees, "but why don't we try burning them?"

"No," Aesar replies firmly, her voice carrying a sharp edge. "Setting a forest ablaze without reason is reckless, even here."

She hesitates before adding, "I'd climb them to get a better view, but they seem to stretch infinitely upward."

"If that were true, we'd have seen them from my lab," Freyja interjects, her tone analytical and calm. "This place doesn't obey natural laws. It's not scientifically possible."

"It's not supposed to be," I say. "This is a domain—her domain. The old woman's home."

"Then why not just talk to her again?" Presz mutters from beneath his cloak. "She said she'd help us get out, didn't she?"

The wind shifts, carrying a familiar voice. "Did someone call for me?" Yara's words drift through the air, her presence felt but unseen.

I raise my voice, defiance lacing my tone. "Will you help us willingly, or do we need to force you?"

The wind chuckles, soft and mocking. "Force? How quaint. Here, young man, force means nothing."

A low rumble vibrates through the ground, traveling up our legs like a warning.

"For you see... nature is the greatest force of all."

The creaking of wood surrounds us. A thick branch, shaped like a gnarled hand, descends from above, barely visible before snuffing out my flame with a single pinch. Darkness engulfs us, suffocating and absolute.

"Sylvans," Aesar whispers, her voice tight. "Dangerous beings. They demand respect. We need to tread carefully."

Yara's voice emerges again, now disturbingly close—right in front of me. "What do you say, handsome? Ready to accept my offer?"

I grit my teeth, my tone cold. "We just want out of here."

"And I just want you at my place," she purrs, her words dripping with amusement.

"You're not my type," I snap.

"Ah, this cursed form," she scoffs, irritation breaking through her mockery. "Tell me, how did you even stumble into my domain?"

"Take us somewhere we're not stumbling blind," I demand. "Then we'll talk."

Her laughter is soft but sharp. "How can I refuse a face like that?"

The forest groans in response. Wood bends and creaks, and leaves rustle in a cacophony that shatters the silence.

After a tense moment, a faint light flickers to life. It's a candle, casting warm, flickering shadows across the interior of a small cabin. Yara sits in a rocking chair at its center, her sly smile as unsettling as ever.

"Speak," she commands, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"We were on our way to a place," I begin cautiously. "I decided to take a shortcut... but we ended up here instead."

Her eyes narrow. "My question is how you ended up here—not why."

I glance fleetingly at the others, searching for support. "Why does it matter to you?"