Exile floated above the dense rooftop of the forest, his gaze locked onto the shifting maze of trees below. Skalr’s group had been struggling for over an hour to push forward, but despite their best efforts, they hadn’t gained a single step toward Bjorn and the others. The Skardians, grizzled warriors who had survived countless battles, now stood frozen in frustration.
Skalr ran a hand through his damp hair. “This ain’t natural, Exile. We’ve marched east for miles, but we haven’t moved a damn inch!”
‘He’s right,’ Exile sighed.
Exile knew it wasn’t just their sense of direction betraying them. This was something far worse. A power beyond his own was at work. The storm of his Authority crackled around him, arcs of lightning rippling through the air as he reached out with his divine senses. The threads of energy woven into the forest pulsed in response, forming an intricate web that flexed and shimmered with divine power.
His jaw tightened. ‘A divine barrier? And one that even I can’t break?’
That fact alone sent a chill down his spine. With his Authority over runes, he should’ve been able to glean some insight into how it worked. But he had nothing. No. This barrier was something else. Ancient. Full of purpose. Designed not just to keep people out… but to keep something in.
Exile clenched his fists. ‘Damn it. This isn’t some simple trick. I’m not strong enough to tear through it alone.’ He exhaled sharply and opened his divine interface. If this was beyond his power alone, then he’d call in reinforcements.
A moment later, as Exile descended to the ground, a golden light flared as another divine presence took shape beside him. The air warped, shimmering as a broad-shouldered figure emerged.
Clay stood there, his eyes scanning the twisted forest around them. Clad in his armour, the God of War looked as if he’d just stepped off the battlefield. Which he had. ‘I should spare some time to check on the Dwarven war.’ Exile mused as he noticed Clay’s exhausted expression.
Clay rolled his shoulders. “What kind of mess have you dragged me into this time?”
Exile gestured toward the endless, shifting woodland. “Divine barrier. Too strong for me to break. Figured you might want a crack at it.”
Clay let out a low whistle, his eyes narrowing as he extended a hand toward the invisible wall of power. His fingers brushed against something unseen, and a deep hum resonated through the air. The space around them shuddered as he pressed forward. The golden aura of his Authority flared as his war god’s power collided with the divine construct in a brutal test of strength.
Then, just as suddenly, the resistance snapped back, sending Clay stumbling a step backwards.
He scowled. “Alright. That’s new.”
Exile crossed his arms. “So, that’s a no, then?”
Clay shot him a glare. “Piss off. You knew it was a long shot.” He exhaled sharply. “This isn’t just any barrier. This thing’s ancient. I don’t think it’s meant to be broken.”
Exile’s frown deepened as he glared at his friend. “Then we’re out of options. Bjorn and the others are trapped inside, and I don’t like the idea of sitting on our arses while something hunts them.”
Clay opened his mouth to respond, but another presence suddenly pressed against their senses. Cold. Ethereal. Dreamlike.
A swirling mist formed before them, and from it, a stunning avatar stepped forward. Her golden eyes glowed like dying embers in the mist as she stared at the pair.
Winter smiled faintly as she took in the scene. “Well, well. Look at you two, standing around like lost children.”
Clay folded his arms. “Took your time.”
Winter arched a delicate brow. “I had other duties to attend to. Or have you forgotten my role in these wars?”
Exile wasted no time. “Can you get through?”
Winter stepped forward, her bare feet touching the shifting ground as if it were a mere illusion. Without hesitation, she lifted a single hand and pressed her palm to the barrier. A soft sigh passed through her full lips, and then, the barrier parted around her like silk. She stepped through effortlessly, the shimmering strands of divine energy parting before her passage.
Clay let out a low chuckle. “Well, that’s just insulting.”
Exile ignored him. “How?”
Winter turned back, her expression unreadable. “Because this place is not of your domain.”
Exile’s stomach twisted. He didn’t like that answer. Not one bit. “And what exactly does that mean?”
Winter’s gaze shifted toward the heart of the forest, her eyes darkening. “It means the barrier isn’t just divine. It’s woven from nightmares. And I am the only one who can walk freely through them.”
Exile exchanged a glance with Clay, the same unspoken thought passing between them. If even Winter’s presence was required to enter, then whatever lay beyond that barrier was something far worse than either of them had imagined.
‘It’s a damned inheritance.’ Exile cursed in his mind as a shudder ran through his body. ‘They’re… unpredictable. What’ll we face in there? Hopefully, nothing like Nar’Kozz is waiting in this one.’
Winter took a step deeper into the forest, her voice drifting back to them. “Stay here. This place was not made for you. I will find them.”
Exile bristled. “Like hell, I’m just waiting here!”
Winter didn’t turn back. “Then let’s hope you find a way to pass the barrier yourself.”
Before he could respond, the mist swallowed her whole. The forest was silent once more.
Exile clenched his jaw. He hated this. He hated waiting. ‘Bring her back, Winter. Bring them all back.’
Winter drifted forward, the mist clinging to her form as she ventured deeper into the labyrinthine forest. The air was suffocating, thick with an ancient malice that curled at the edges of her senses. This was no mere divine construct. It pulsed like a living thing. Its breath whispered through the trees.
She exhaled softly as she unfolded her Authority to glean some clues about this mysterious place. Shadows twisted among the trees, forming ghost-like figures. ‘My God! They’re echoes of lost dreams! They’ve turned into nightmares because of what this place is doing to them!’ ‘How long have they been trapped here?’ Winter wondered while watching them. Centuries? Perhaps millennia? She could taste their bitterness on her tongue. ‘There’s so much suffering here.’
‘This place was made to keep something in,’ she thought while her feet glided over the gnarled roots that stretched out like the grasping hands of desperate people. ‘But what?’
The answer, she knew, lay ahead.
A flicker of movement caught her eye. A silhouette, barely an apparition, shifted just beyond the veil of mist. She slowed and tilted her head. Winter’s golden eyes narrowed as she focused on it. It was humanoid, yet not at the same time. The air was disturbed around it, just like those times you can see the heat rising from the ground. It was almost as if reality itself rejected the apparition’s presence.
“You,” she whispered, not in greeting, but to see if the…thing… was sentient.
The figure stilled. Then, a voice, hollow and rasping, slithered through the gloom. “She walks… the Dreamer walks…”
Winter’s pulse remained steady, though a cold knot of unease coiled in her stomach. It knew her. She was sure of it. However, that was rarely a good sign.
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice carrying the weight of her Authority. The mists rippled in response, parting slightly as if bowing to her presence.
A chuckle as brittle as the crunching of dead leaves came in response. “We are what remains. Forgotten… Forsaken… Fallen. But you… you should not be here.”
Winter took another step forward. “And yet, here I am.”
The silhouette shifted as its limbs elongated, the mist curling around it like a cocoon. “You trespass upon the inheritance. The Nightmare is waking. A sacrifice has been offered. Go back… Dreamer. Before it is too late.”
Winter’s frown deepened. ‘If I’m the Dreamer, then who’s the Nightmare? What sacrifice is it talking about? Seems like I was right about this place being an Inheritance.’ She had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed by whatever this creature was made her stomach churn. ‘If this is an inheritance, then something ancient has awoken… and it’s watching.’
Her fingers twitched at her side, ready to strike if needed. “Where are the mortals who entered before me?”
The figure hesitated, as though contemplating whether to answer. Then, the shadows deepened and the entity rasped, “They dream. They run. They are hunted.”
Winter’s eyes flashed. “By what?”
The response came not in words but in a guttural, inhuman growl that rumbled through the trees. The ground trembled at its passage and then the mist thickened. It pulsed as something vast and powerful shifted in the depths of the forest.
Winter clenched her jaw as she stared at the apparition. ‘Of course. It was never going to be that easy.’
A cold wind swept through the trees, carrying sounds of agony and of fear. The presence lurking out there in the dark exuded raw, primal hunger. Whatever had been imprisoned here was waking up, and it had caught the scent of new prey.
Winter took a deep breath before exhaling slowly. “Enough of this.”
With a mere thought, she activated a Miracle guided by her Authority. The mist recoiled from around her, the very fabric of the dream-woven realm started twisting to her will. The shadows slithered away, revealing a clearer path through the forest.
“If they are running,” she murmured, “then I will find them.”
The figure chuckled again, but this time, there was something almost… approving in its tone. “Then run fast, Dreamer. The hunt has already begun.”