Chapter 89: Whispers in the Wild

  The Auralis Glades were nothing like Marcus had expected.

  The Wildlands had been untamed, rugged, and unpredictable, but the Glades… The Glades were different. Towering trees stretched toward the sky, their thick canopies casting dappled shadows over the moss-covered ground. The air was dense with the scent of damp earth and wildflowers, and the occasional call of distant creatures echoed through the vast expanse. It was quiet, but not in the way of lifeless places—there was an undercurrent of movement, something unseen shifting just beyond their senses.

  Arixa took the lead, her expression focused as she scanned the ground for any sign of a trail. Thalron walked beside her, his keen eyes noting details she might miss. The two of them made a surprisingly efficient tracking team—Arixa’s instincts and brute-force approach complemented Thalron’s meticulous attention to detail.

  Marcus and Vira followed a few steps behind.

  “Feels like we’re being watched,” Marcus muttered under his breath.

  Vira frowned, sweeping a strand of hair from her face. “You feel it too?”

  Marcus nodded. His instincts weren’t just about combat—he could feel when something was off, when the air itself carried a charge of tension. The back of his neck prickled, a silent warning.

  Thalron must have noticed their unease. “Eyes up,” he said, his tone low but firm. “Something’s been here recently.”

  Arixa crouched near the remnants of a fire pit, brushing aside the damp soil. “Camp’s old, but someone tried to hide it,” she murmured. “See how the ashes were scattered? Like they didn’t want anyone to know they were here.”

  Thalron pointed to faint tracks leading away from the site. “These footprints are deliberate—light, careful. Whoever was here didn’t want to be followed.”

  Arixa clenched her fists. “So either my parents didn’t want to be found… or someone didn’t want them to be found.”

  No one had an answer for that.

  The group pressed on, following the faint remnants of a trail deeper into the Glades. The further they went, the stronger the feeling of being observed became. It wasn’t paranoia—it was real.

  Something, or someone, was watching them.

  The ambush came not with the sound of battle, but with the absence of sound.

  One moment, the wind whispered through the leaves. The next, the forest was utterly still.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Marcus barely had time to call out before figures emerged from the trees—swift, silent, and utterly in control.

  Beastfolk.

  A dozen of them surrounded the group, their forms blending into the shadows of the forest. Their features varied—feline, lupine, even avian—but they all shared the same quiet intensity. Their weapons weren’t drawn, but there was no doubt that if they wanted to, they could take down the party in seconds.

  The largest of them, a towering minotaur with thick, dark fur and piercing amber eyes, stepped forward. He looked directly at Arixa, his expression unreadable.

  “Ghost,” he said, voice deep and resonant.

  Arixa stiffened. “What did you just call me?”

  The beastfolk exchanged glances before the minotaur spoke again. “You should not be here.”

  Marcus took a half-step forward, hands loose but ready. “We’re looking for answers,” he said carefully. “We’re not here to start a fight.”

  The minotaur’s gaze flicked to Marcus, then back to Arixa. “Your blood carries old ties to this land,” he said. “But the past is dead.”

  Arixa’s fists clenched. “I don’t care if the past is dead—I want to know what happened.”

  The tension in the clearing thickened, but before it could spiral further, another voice cut through the silence.

  “Enough.”

  An elderly beastfolk, cloaked in deep green, stepped forward from behind the others. His fur was streaked with silver, and his eyes held the weight of years. The other beastfolk lowered their heads slightly—he was clearly someone of importance.

  He studied Arixa for a long moment before speaking. “Your parents were here once. But the answers you seek are not given freely.”

  Arixa’s breath hitched. “…They were here?”

  The elder nodded but remained firm. “If you wish to learn of them, you must prove yourself.”

  The elder gestured toward the forest. “In our tribe, knowledge is earned. You are an outsider, but your blood ties you to the past. If you wish to reclaim what was lost, you must undergo the Three Trials—strength, survival, and heart.”

  Arixa crossed her arms. “And if I refuse?”

  “Then the past remains buried.”

  Silence.

  Marcus saw the conflict in Arixa’s expression—her frustration, her hesitation. She wasn’t afraid of a challenge, but the idea that she had to earn the right to know her own past? That stung.

  Vira, ever one to push, smirked. “Sounds like they don’t think you can handle it.”

  Arixa’s eyes flashed. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

  The elder nodded approvingly. “Then choose your herd.”

  Arixa frowned. “What?”

  The elder gestured toward Marcus, Thalron, and Vira. “A leader is only as strong as those who stand beside them. For each trial, you may select one among you to stand at your side.”

  Before Arixa could even think, Stem’s voice echoed in Marcus’ mind.

  “Tell her to pick you for strength, Thalron for survival, and Vira for heart.”

  Marcus blinked. Why?

  “Because that is the path that leads to the truth.”

  Marcus hesitated but then spoke. “Arixa… pick me for the strength trial. Thalron for survival. Vira for heart.”

  Arixa turned to him, narrowing her eyes. “Why?”

  Marcus shrugged. “Because it makes sense.”

  Arixa looked at Thalron, who gave a small nod, and then to Vira, who grinned. “I mean, if I get to be the heart of this team, I won’t argue.”

  Arixa exhaled. “Fine.”

  The elder nodded. “Then your first trial begins at dawn.”

  The beastfolk stepped back, melting into the shadows as quickly as they had appeared.

  Arixa turned toward the fire, her jaw tight. Marcus could tell—this wasn’t just a test for her. This was personal.

  Thalron placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’re with you.”

  Vira smirked. “And if they try to pull anything shady, we’ll remind them that we don’t play fair.”

  Marcus sat beside Arixa, looking at the flickering embers. “You’re not doing this alone.”

  Arixa didn’t respond for a long moment. Then, finally, she let out a breath.

  “I just… I just want to know.”

  Marcus met her gaze, steady and certain. “Then we’ll find out together.”

  As the fire burned low and the night settled, the first trial awaited them at sunrise.