Thalon burst from their hiding place with a predators grace, each step precise and measured as he crossed the clearing.
The serene silence of the grove shattered with a horrendous screech that seemed to vibrate through the very air. The bird flapped its immense wings in panic. Amriel's breath caught in her throat as she watched Thalon tackle the magnificent bird with startling precision.
Unable to bear witness to the death of such a beautiful creature, Amriel averted her gaze, her fingers buried deep in Meeko's fur. The forest cat trembled beneath her touch, not from fear but from a strange resonance with the energy that now pulsed through the clearing.
She squeezed her eyes shut against the vision of destruction she expected to follow. The sound of beating wings grew frantic, then abruptly ceased.
The silence that followed was deafening.
"I got it!" Thalon's triumphant voice called out.
Tentatively, Amriel opened her eyes, expecting carnage but finding none. Instead, the warrior knelt in the moonlit clearing, a single, pristine azure feather glowing faintly in his hand. Its edges shimmered with that same iridescent light that had outlined the bird's form.
"You didn't... kill it?" she asked, stepping cautiously into the clearing. Her voice carried equal measures of relief and confusion as her eyes searched for any signs of blood or broken feathers. Nothing but the gentle sway of the disturbed moonflowers suggested anything had happened at all.
Thalon raised an eyebrow, as though surprised by her question, then shook his head. "No. Of course not. Why would I kill an Aurex when all we need is a feather?"
Amriel watched Thalon rise and cross the clearing back to her. The way he was holding the feather aloft, paired with the triumphant look on his face, reminded Amriel of when Niamh's twins did something they were proud of.
"This," he said as he neared her, "is our key to the Vale."
Amriel stared, her gaze shifting between the feather's radiant glow and the sharp, shadowed angles of his face. "That has to be the strangest key I've ever seen," she murmured.
Silvery moonlight caught in his hair, turning the dark strands almost luminous against his bronzed skin as he approached the thick cluster of bushes where she still stood.
"Oh, there are much stranger ones, I assure you." He said matter-of-factly, a brief flash of disgust flitted across his face while he muttered, "The gods do have a strange sense of humor after all."
Then, with a shrug, he proceeded to tuck the feather away into the folds of his cloak and collected his belongings from the brush beside Amriel.
Slinging his pack over his shoulder, Thalon set off across the clearing and disappeared between two ancient oak trees whose massive trunks were twisted together like lovers embracing, their canopy creating a natural archway. One moment he was visible, his outline clear against the darkness; the next, he had melted into the shadows as if the forest had swallowed him whole.
Amriel's eyes darted through the forest around her. She knew these woods extremely well. Even if this was a part of it she had never tread, she was confident she could make her way back home from here. But what awaited her there? To be thrown back into the Dreadfort?
A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of the cold cells and the maddening chatter.
Truthfully, she could go anywhere now. Just run away, go anywhere else. They'd never find her.
But part of her wanted to know, and hopefully understand, what was happening to her, and Thalon might take her to those who could answer a great deal of questions.
Before she could mull the thoughts over in an already muddled mind, Meeko, who had remained remarkably still throughout the ordeal, darted out to follow Thalon, and, together, they disappeared into the shadows of the forest without so much as a glance back.
Suddenly, she was all alone, and the dark forest loomed in.
"Wait!" Amriel called, scrambling after them, crashing through the underbrush with a little less grace than she would have appreciated.
Together, the three companions continued their journey through the forest. Thalon moved with purpose, occasionally pausing to examine subtle markers Amriel couldn't discern—a bent branch here, a peculiar arrangement of stones there. The night deepened around them, and moonlight filtered through the canopy in silver shafts that danced as the wind stirred the leaves.
Just when Amriel wondered if they were lost, the dense undergrowth of the Vhengal Forest gave way to reveal another clearing. This one, however, was unlike any she had ever encountered in her countless explorations.
Amriel had taken pride in her knowledge of the Vhengal. She'd spent her childhood roaming its paths, gathering herbs for her mother, learning its secrets season by season. But this clearing made her wonder if she knew the forest at all.
She froze at its edge, her breath catching at the surreal sight. Before her, the full moon hung impossibly low, arching across the clearing like a silver gate. A pool at its base reflected its image so perfectly that it seemed the moon had descended to touch the earth.
Her thoughts scrambled as the voices in the depths of the Dreadfort echoed in her thoughts: The moon is a lie! The words that had once seemed like the ravings of a broken mind now sent a chill down her spine.
"What…" she stammered, unable to reconcile what she was seeing with everything she had known. "How does this make sense?"
Thalon turned, his face unreadable but his voice calm. "This is where I will need you to trust me, Amriel." Without waiting for her response, he produced the feather from his cloak and strode toward the moonlit pool.
Meeko pressed against her leg. The forest cat's ears were perked forward, fixated on Thalon.
"It's all right," she whispered, though she wasn't sure which of them she was trying to reassure. She stroked Meeko's head, drawing comfort from his familiar presence as much as offering it.
Amriel watched as Thalon waded into the pond, the glowing feather held aloft like a torch. The water rippled beneath his steps, but strangely, none of it clung to him. His boots remained dry, his movements unburdened by the liquid that should have soaked him through. It was as if the pond itself resisted his presence, bending to his will.
Reaching the center of the pool, Thalon stopped, his silhouette stark against the shimmering light of the moon. Slowly, he raised the feather higher, its luminescence intensifying until it seemed to rival the stars above. He began to speak, his voice low and measured, the words both alien and strangely familiar, resonating in the depths of Amriel's chest. The sounds were soft, almost melodic, like a song hummed by the forest itself.
Though she strained to catch the meaning, the language eluded her. Yet, somehow, it tugged at her memory, a distant echo of something she had once known—or perhaps dreamed. The cadence of his words seemed to resonate with the world around them, the very air thrumming in time with his voice.
As the incantation continued, the moon's reflection began to ripple, its surface wavering like water caught in a breeze. Its pale light shimmered, bending and twisting in impossible patterns. Amriel's gaze flicked between the moon above and its shifting reflection below, her heart racing as the ripples grew stronger, spreading outward in hypnotic waves.
Then, without warning, the moon and its mirrored twin fractured, their forms shattering into cascading beams of silver. The shards dissolved into the night, leaving only a gaping void—a deep, black abyss where the celestial light had been moments earlier.
The darkness was absolute, a void so profound it seemed to swallow the world around it. The air grew still, heavy with an unearthly quiet, as if the forest itself were holding its breath. A chill ran down Amriel's spine, the emptiness before her unlike anything she had ever encountered.
Thalon turned his head slightly, his profile illuminated by the faint glow still radiating from the feather. His voice carried across the water, calm yet filled with gravity. "The path is open," he said, his words slicing through the oppressive silence. Then, without hesitation, he stepped toward the abyss.
"Wait!" Amriel found herself calling out for the second time that night.
Thalon paused, the water lapping softly around his knees yet his clothes remained dry. The feather's light cast an ethereal glow over him, highlighting the sharp angles of his face and the resolute glint in his emerald eyes. In that moment, he seemed less a man and more a figure from a tale whispered around fires on winter nights.
And then, he smiled, and without a word, turned from her and stepped into the darkness that awaited.