RAVENNA

Part 20

The forest moved with them. Hazem strode ahead, his steps near-silent over the roots and moss, though every line of his body stayed taut, wary. Around them, dryads glided between the trees—half seen, half shadow—escorting but never touching. Their eyes glimmered faintly in the dim light, unreadable, their whispers threading through the branches like restless leaves.

The humans followed, the air thick with damp earth and a tension that never eased. Nieve kept her gaze low, though she felt Hazem's glance flicker toward her more than once, sharp with questions he did not yet voice.

The forest thinned, and the humans stepped out into a wide, pale silence.

Snow lay heavy across the clearing, branches bowed under frost, the ground hard with ice. Yet the river Nhyros ahead ran dark and swift, its waters alive against the frozen stillness of the world around it. Steam curled faintly from its surface, as if the river kept its own secret warmth. 

Nieve moved to see the river. Her voice slipped out, wondering, almost reverent. "...It moves, though all else lies frozen."

Hazem's gaze hardened on the current, and when he spoke, his tone carried the weight of something far older than warning."

This river does not freeze," he said. His eyes lingered on the black water, as if it might stir at his words. "It is said it will turn to ice only when the last light dies... when the world itself draws breath no more." The others sat on the bank, weary and silent, their breath clouding in the cold. For a time, only the river spoke, its dark waters rushing stubbornly against the frozen land.

Hazem stood apart with Nieve, both of them gazing at the flow. His voice came softly, almost lost in the current."...Did you see her?"Nieve turned her head, brow furrowing. "See who?"

"My sister," Hazem said. His eyes did not leave the river. "Those words... 'Roots remember, even when fire burns'... they were hers."

Nieve's lips parted, hesitant. Her gift was secret to her companions,  to name what she had glimpsed felt heavy. Still, she nodded faintly. "I saw her. A spirit—" her voice caught, softening into awe, "—she was... beautiful. Pure, in a way untouched by sorrow. Innocent."

Hazem closed his eyes, and for the first time his rigid composure loosened. "Yes. That was her. Filiz, her name. She healed the wounded, fed the lost. Even the smallest creatures found shelter in her branches. She gave... always gave." His voice trailed into memory, fragile with ache.

"She was rooted in the grove we once called sacred. That place you name dreaded now. When the Duskborn came with their fire..." His jaw tightened, words weighted with grief. "They burned her tree. She would not leave it. Even as the flames took her flesh and bark, she clung to it, whispering comfort to those who fled. She died as she lived—standing, steadfast, never letting go." Nieve's throat burned. Her eyes shimmered, though she blinked fiercely against the sting. "She... she stayed. Even in death she stayed." Hazem looked at her then, his expression carved from sorrow yet softened by the memory.

"She lingers still. Perhaps because the world remembers her more than we deserve. Perhaps because she waits... for someone to listen." The river rushed on, unfreezing, carrying their silence with it.

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The witch's chant faltered into silence as the map stilled. The streak of Nicholai's blood spread thin, then curved sharply—like a vein seeking its heart. It pointed east, unwavering, until it ran into the painted line of the river.

Her pale eyes flicked up. "The bond draws us not deep into the forest, but along the water's course. There—" she tapped the spot where the blood pulsed faintly, "—to a tree that stands apart. A mark. A scar upon the bank."

Michael rose, nostrils flaring again. The air was thick with frost and rot, but beneath it he caught something truer—Nieve. Her scent clung to the breeze off the river, faint but undeniable. His voice dropped, rough and certain.

"She passed near that place. The river carried her trace... it leads us there."

Nicholai stepped closer to the map, his jaw clenched. "A tree by the river? yeah there used to be a Oak tree. Is Sebastian there?

The witch's expression darkened. "They must be Watched. The scar you seek is no mere tree, but one burned in the old war. Roots blackened, yet it stands still. It drinks from the river, but no leaves grow." Her voice dropped to a whisper, trembling like wind through ash. "And it is there the East keeps its claim."

The officers shifted uneasily, their gazes darting toward the unseen water.

Michael's hand brushed the hilt at his side, his body tense but ready. "Then that's where we go. Whatever curse holds the place—we break it, or it breaks us. But we don't leave anyone there. Nicholai touched the dried blood on his palm, eyes burning with resolve. "Brother to brother. I will not."

And with the river as their guide, they turned their steps toward the scarred tree, its shadow already waiting across the frost-bitten land.

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## Here is the another update. show your love to it.

i was thinking to from now on i will put targets. so what how 5 votes and 5 comments sound? of course, it sounds EASY. now read it and do you job. until the next update. GN.