Chapter 45 - Rain, rain, go away

  The plan wasn’t so simple.

  Ariel and Lilia would have to run through the thick of the forest, along the uneven paths and tangled roots—dragging the cart with Ryn inside.

  They’d need to reach the Sol Garden Hills before nightfall, before the moon rose and the aberration stirred again.

  It sounded easy when Ariel said it aloud, but as they stood there, staring into the stretch of shadowed trees ahead, both girls knew what it really meant.

  It meant no breaks.

  No stopping to rest.

  No room for mistakes.

  Once the sun dipped below the trees, they would die.

  They moved through the forest in silence.

  The world had shrunk to the soft drag of their boots and the low groan of the cart’s wheels against uneven earth. What little sunlight reached them was pale and colorless, filtered through a canopy that never seemed to end.

  Each step felt heavier than the last. The air was thick, almost humid, clinging to their skin. Sweat and dirt had become the same thing long ago. Ariel’s shoulders sagged beneath the weight of her pack, and Lilia’s fingers trembled where they gripped the cart’s handles.

  Neither of them had spoken for hours. Words would’ve taken energy they didn’t have.

  Once or twice, Ariel glanced back at the path behind them. The trees looked the same in every direction—towering, unmoving, endless. The ground was a patchwork of roots and mud, as if the forest itself was trying to swallow their tracks

  Lilia’s breath came unevenly.

  The path twisted downward, roots snaking through the dirt like veins beneath a wounded skin. Every pull of the cart tore at Lilia’s shoulders, her palms raw and burning from the rough wooden handles. Her breath came ragged, each inhale scraping like sandpaper.

  Branches clawed at her face as she ran. The forest seemed to close in around them, its silence heavy and watchful. Every crack of a twig behind them sent her heart slamming against her ribs.

  Ariel stumbled beside her, her steps uneven, half blind from exhaustion.

  The two moved in silence, their breaths shallow and sharp. Behind them, the creak of the cart and the soft rattle of Ryn’s uneven breathing were the only sounds that told them they were still conscious.

  Above the canopy, faint light began to bloom. The first rays of noon cut through the trees in golden lines, spilling across the forest floor.

  Every shadow looked longer, every rustle sharper. Ariel’s pulse quickened. The creature was still out there. She could feel it in her bones, pacing just beyond the reach of the light.

  Still, she forced herself to calm down; fear wouldn't help them survive now.

  “Keep going,” Ariel whispered, her voice hoarse.

  They didn’t stop.

  The sun rose higher, spilling warmth over their faces, but it did nothing to chase away the chill that clung to their backs. The trees began to thin, their shadows stretching long and brittle beneath the growing light.

  They were getting closer — they could feel it.

  Ariel moved beside Lilia, each step a battle against the weight pressing on them both. Lilia’s breathes came raggedher , shoulders trembling with every pull of the cart, but she never slowed. Every time her legs threatened to give out, she forced herself forward again, jaw tight, eyes fixed ahead.

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  When Ariel tried to take the cart, Lilia gave her a small, tired smile. “I’ve got it,” she muttered, though her shaking arms said otherwise.

  Ariel let her.

  The cart jolted over a root, and Ryn’s body shifted, his arm sliding free from the cloth that covered him. Lilia slowed just enough to fix it.

  Then they moved again, faster this time, as if afraid the forest would notice their pause.

  So they kept going, the sound of the cart’s creaking wheels trailing behind them..

  Their legs burned. Their hands bled where the wood had rubbed skin raw. Every breath was a rasp, every heartbeat an ache. The air grew heavier the deeper they pushed, the faint hum of insects fading as the forest began to fall away behind them.

  They were so tired

  Then Ariel heard it, the wind.

  Faint at first, a soft whistle brushing through the leaves ahead. But it grew louder, freer, no longer muffled by trees.

  Her eyes widened.

  They were close.

  Lilia must’ve heard it too, because without a word, she broke into a run. The cart jolted violently as they dragged it over roots and stones, its wheels clattering against the uneven ground. Ariel joined her, pushing from behind, ignoring the pain that flared through her legs.

  Branches snapped, leaves tore against their skin, and the forest suddenly broke open.

  Ahead, light, vast, blinding light, spilled across the grasslands beyond the treeline.

  They had made it to the edge.

  And in front of them stretched a sight that stole the breath from their lungs.

  The Sol Garden Hills.

  An Endless wave of green that rolled toward the horizon.

  The grass swayed like the ocean, each blade catching the light.

  The wind carried the faint scent of wildflowers and grass. The hills curving gently upward in sweeping arcs, their crests crowned by scattered trees and stones half-swallowed by moss.

  It felt untouched, eternal.

  And at the farthest peak, high above the valley and bathed in sunlight, stood a small temple.

  It was simple, white stone, worn by wind and time, but it radiated an unearthly stillness.

  That was it.

  The Trial.

  Ariel’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at it, the way the clouds seemed to spiral above, the faint shimmer of gold that lingered in the air around it. For a moment, it looked more like a wound in the world, waiting to be opened.

  Ariel lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the blinding sunlight, and beside her, Lilia did the same.

  For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They just stood there, silent, breathless, taking in the sight before them. The endless stretch of green hills, the wind rolling over them in waves, the shrine perched atop the farthest rise like a promise made real.

  But the sound of Ryn’s ragged breathing quickly pulled them back to reality.

  Then came the noise… distant at first, faint and scattered.

  the cawing and fluttering of countless birds taking to the air. It should have been comforting, proof that life still existed beyond ruin. Ariel even let herself smile, just a little.

  They were going to make it. They’d reach the shrine before nightfall. Lilia and Ryn would survive.

  The wind stilled. For a heartbeat, even the world seemed to hold its breath.

  And then—

  A single drop of water struck her hand.

  Ariel blinked, glancing down at the single droplet glistening against her skin.

  Her stomach dropped.

  No.

  Another drop followed. Then another.

  Within seconds, the clear sky above them began to fade, the warm gold of the sun dimming beneath a gathering wall of gray.

  Clouds rolled in fast, swallowing the blue whole, and the wind that had once carried the scent of grass now carried a chill that bit at their skin.

  Lilia trembled. “No… no, no, no…” she whispered, tightening her grip on the cart’s handles.

  Ariel looked up again, heart pounding. The shrine—so bright just moments ago—was now shrouded beneath the shadow of the coming storm.

  And then came the sound.

  A low rumble that rolled across the valley, deep and hungry.

  Thunder.

  Rain began to fall in earnest now, cold and heavy.

  The first few drops stung against their skin, and in that instant, Ariel’s fragile hope of reaching the shrine, of getting them to survive one more day…

  Was Shattered