The path ahead of us wasn't on any map.
And that was a good thing.
Because maps in Eclipsia were drawn by those who needed certain roads to always lead to the same endings: massacres, sacrifices, false redemptions.
We were heading the opposite way.
—
We crossed the Black Lignum Forest at dawn, where the trees whispered in languages no one had recorded.
Sera kept one hand on her closed grimoire, and I… just listened.
Ever since I tapped into my ability again, something had shifted.
It wasn't a vision. It was pressure. Like time itself was watching me.
As if it knew I was trying to improvise.
—
"Something wrong?" she asked.
"It's like the world… noticed I'm off-script."
"Good," she smiled. "Let it feel a little uncomfortable."
—
We came upon an abandoned cabin. Not ruined. Just… paused.
As if built by someone who wanted to hide something—or someone.
Inside, we found old symbols. Some carved into the beams, others painted in dried blood.
And in the center, a table with a single book.
Sera opened it.
I braced myself for another trap.
But what we read wasn't a spell or a threat.
It was a journal.
Signed with a single letter:
"S."