I groaned in bored frustration.
Nyssa had eventually decided to just leave me behind as she headed for the campsite for her top secret rendezvous.
Orcs? Elves... Maybe?
I tried to guess what kind of magical creature inhabited this land, but to no avail.
I shifted from one foot to the other, the quiet gnawing at my nerves.
The system hadn't said much after that. No helpful pop-ups. No mini-map. Just a cold, floating message that had appeared a few minutes ago and then vanished like a ghost.
[SYSTEM NOTICE] — No new updates.
"Yeah, screw you too," I muttered.
Leaves rustled nearby.
I froze.
Not wind this time. It was too focused—too... deliberate.
I dropped into a crouch behind a thick tree trunk, heart suddenly hammering against my ribs. I pressed my back to the bark, straining my ears.
Another rustle. Closer.
Great. Either Nyssa was back early and creeping up like a damn cat—or I was about to become something's lunch.
My fingers closed around a broken branch on the ground. Not exactly a sword, but it had a pointy end. That counted, right?
I was already getting used to weilding branches...
Then I saw it.
Stepping slowly from the brush was—well, I wasn't sure what it was. It looked like a deer. Sort of. If deer were made out of moss, wood, and glowing blue crystals.
Its antlers shimmered like glass, refracting the dappled sunlight in weird, prismatic streaks. Its body looked partially rotted, but not in a gross way—more like the forest had shaped it from old roots and forgotten bones. And its eyes...
Its eyes were too human, too intelligent.
It stared at me.
I held my breath.
The stick in my hand felt like a joke now.
We stayed like that for several long seconds. It didn't move toward me. Didn't run. Just watched.
Judging, probably...
Then, as softly as it had come, it turned. Hooves barely made a sound on the leaf-strewn earth. The creature vanished into the brush, as if it had never been there at all.
I slowly exhaled.
"…okay," I whispered, trying to calm my sshaking heart. "Sure. That's normal. Definitely."
The tree behind me creaked, as if laughing.
Or maybe that was just my imagination. Either way, I suddenly really wished Nyssa would come back soon.
***
Time dragged.
I paced in circles. Threw rocks at a tree. Tried to whistle. Failed. Sat down. Got back up. Sat down again.
I'd already fought a magical moss-deer with my eyes, survived a near panic attack, and internally narrated the tragic saga of Jack the Abandoned.
Nyssa had been gone way too long.
"She probably got eaten," I muttered, glaring at a squirrel. "Or she's the one doing the eating."
No response. Just the wind whispering through the branches like it was in on some joke I didn't understand.
I leaned against a tree and stared at the sky through the leaves.
"Seriously though. How long does a 'meeting' take in murder forest time?"
I considered just walking off, finding my own path. But considering I didn't know which direction was up in this place, let alone which led out, I figured staying alive meant staying put.
Eventually, I heard footsteps—quiet but purposeful.
I straightened, already halfway through a sarcastic remark.
"You know," I said, "if you were trying to abandon me, you could've at least left a note. 'Back later. Don't die. XO—Nyssa.'"
She stepped into view, tossing something small at me.
I fumbled the catch. It was a piece of dried meat.
"Lunch," she said.
"That's dinner," I countered. "You've been gone for—what, a week?"
She didn't respond. Just adjusted the strap on her pack and gave me a once-over, as if checking whether I'd grown any extra limbs or started bleeding.
"You're still alive," she said.
"Disappointed?"
"Not yet."
She walked past me, and I fell into step beside her.
"No trouble?" I asked, chewing on the dried meat. Surprisingly decent.
"No more than usual."
I noticed the way her jaw was set, tighter than before. Something had happened, but I knew better than to ask. For now.
"What now? You finally decided I'm worth keeping around?"
"You're useful."
I raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Slow down. Flattery like that might go to my head."
She shot me a glance, almost like she was deciding whether to push me into a ditch. Almost.
"We're heading east," she said. "The trees are thinner there. Easier to move fast."
"And what happens when we get wherever we're going?"
"We don't die."
"Solid plan. Real inspiring."
I tightened my borrowed belt and followed her lead, stepping over gnarled roots and ducking low-hanging branches. The forest shifted around us—less oppressive now, but still strange. As if it watched us leave.
Just before we cleared the treeline, I caught her glancing back.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing," she said. "Just... checking."
I didn't push it.
Whatever she'd gone to do, whatever decision she'd made, she'd come back for me.
And that meant something.
The trees shifted as we moved—thinner trunks, wider spacing. The sun managed to sneak through now and then, casting golden lines across the forest floor.
We were heading east, or so Nyssa claimed. I had no idea. Every direction looked like "lost forever" to me.
"You sure this is the way out?" I asked after a while, brushing past a curtain of vines that clung too eagerly to my sleeves.
"Yes."
"That's not really an answer."
She didn't look back. "You can stay if you want."
"Oh, believe me, the wilderness is tempting. I've always dreamed of starting a moss farm and being murdered by tree spirits."
That earned me a small snort. Barely audible, but I caught it.
Progress.
The forest wasn't just getting thinner—it was getting...weirder. Some of the trees looked hollowed out, not by age or rot, but something cleaner. Intentional. A few had markings—long, twisting symbols etched into the bark, like veins of language I couldn't read.
"What's that?" I asked, pointing at one as we passed.
Nyssa barely glanced. "Warding glyphs. Old ones."
"From who?"
"From whatever they were afraid of back then."
"...Reassuring."
She didn't elaborate. Of course not.
We pushed forward, following what might've once been a trail. Roots had broken it apart long ago, but there was still a shape to the land—a slope here, a clearing there. Signs that someone had once tried to carve a path through this place.
That someone had failed.
I tugged my cloak tighter. "How big is this forest?"
"Too big."
"Have you ever actually seen the edge?"
"Once. Years ago."
"And?"
"I turned back."
That surprised me. "Why?"
She was quiet for a beat. "Didn't have what I needed yet."
"And now?"
She looked at me, eyes unreadable. "Maybe I do."
It shut me up for a while.
We walked until the sun was low and the forest turned orange and gold. Birds cried from far above—ones with calls too deep, too long. Not normal birds, then. Because of course they weren't.
Eventually, Nyssa raised a hand. We stopped in a small, rocky clearing where the trees leaned outward like they were recoiling from something.
"We rest here," she said.
I dropped my pack with a grateful groan and flopped down on a dry patch of moss.
She stayed standing, scanning the tree line like something might leap out at us any second. I watched her for a minute.
"You ever relax?" I asked.
"No."
"You should try it sometime. It's fun. I highly recommend lying down and pretending the sky isn't judging you."
She didn't reply.
After a moment, I sat up. "We're getting closer, aren't we?"
She didn't move. "Maybe."
"That's your answer to everything."
"It's accurate."
I stretched out on the moss and stared up through the swaying canopy, my body aching but my mind starting to settle. Maybe it was the quiet. Maybe it was the feeling that—for once—we weren't just wandering aimlessly.
Or maybe it was the simple, stubborn fact that Nyssa had come back for me.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
Bond Progress with Nyssa: +1%
Current Sync Level: 15%
No new traits. No flashy perks.
Still. I didn't mind.
We were moving forward. Together. And maybe, just maybe, we were getting closer to the edge of this cursed forest.