Anderwyn, outside Misty Woods, north of the border of Kaiswen, spring (1618 a.L) 

The two days that followed their crossing into Anderwyn passed in a blur of cautious travel and disciplined routine. The group moved at a steady pace, the dense greenery of Anderwyn slowly replacing the plains of Kaiswen. Corix kept his focus on Raelyn's magical training, his sharp corrections came less frequently now, as her movements grew more fluid and precise. She no longer stumbled as much when forming the protective Shield of Light, though it flickered faintly with strain.

At night, under the soft glow of their campfire, Hovan continued her sword training. Raelyn's strikes became more purposeful, her stance more stable, though her arms still ached with the effort of wielding the blade. Hovan's encouragement was blunt but steady, his gruff praise enough to spark a small sense of accomplishment in her.

Their meals were simple—dried rations supplemented by whatever Hovan could hunt. On the second evening, he returned to camp with a hare slung over his shoulder, his satisfied grin met with a grateful smile from Raelyn. The roasted meat was a rare comfort, the smoky aroma mixing with the crisp Anderwyn air.

By the morning of the third day, the landscape began to shift again. The vibrant greens grew darker, the trees taller and denser, their canopies knitting together to filter the sunlight. Mist clung to the ground in pale tendrils, curling lazily around their horses' hooves. In the distance, a towering expanse of forest loomed—Misty Woods.

"There it is," Corix murmured as the towering forest came into view. "Misty Woods,"

Raelyn stared at the expanse of trees, her stomach twisting with both wonder and apprehension. The mist wove through the trees like living threads, catching the faint sunlight in a way that made the air itself seem to shimmer.

"Caelluma lies within these woods," Corix continued. "It's home to one of the elven tribes."

Raelyn glanced at him, her curiosity momentarily overriding her nerves. "And they'll be able to help us?"

Corix hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I don't know. The elves of Caelluma keep to themselves, as most of their kind do. They rarely leave their forests, and they don't often welcome outsiders. But even if they can't teach you to use elven magic, perhaps they know of a tribe or elf that can. Either way, we have to try."

Raelyn's fingers brushed the locket hidden beneath her robes. The weight of it, both literal and figurative, seemed to press heavier on her chest with every step they took. "Do you think they'll even trust us enough to talk?"

Corix didn't answer immediately. His gaze lingered on the mist-shrouded forest, his brow furrowing in thought. "It's hard to say. Trust is rare these days. But this is the best chance we have."

Hovan snorted softly. "Let's just hope they're more hospitable than the demons."

As they entered Misty Woods, the air grew cooler, the sunlight filtering through the dense canopy in muted shades of green. The mist thickened, curling around their legs and horses, muffling the sound of their footsteps. It was as if the forest itself had swallowed them whole, the world beyond reduced to a distant memory.

Raelyn's breath quickened as the towering trees seemed to close in around them. Every rustle of leaves, every distant snap of a twig made her pulse jump. She couldn't shake the feeling that unseen eyes were tracking their every move.

"Stay close," Hovan murmured, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His eyes swept the shadowy surroundings, his posture tense.

That feeling of being watched was confirmed moments later when a sharp voice rang out from above.

"Halt! State your business, outsiders."

The command froze them in place. Raelyn's heart leapt into her throat as her gaze snapped upward. A figure emerged from the treetops, his movements as fluid as the wind. The wood elf was clad in earthy tones that blended seamlessly with the foliage, his leather armor adorned with intricate designs of leaves and vines. A hood shadowed most of his sharp features, but his piercing green eyes glinted with suspicion. His bow was drawn, the arrow pointed directly at Hovan.

Hovan's hand tightened on his sword hilt, but he didn't draw. "We mean no harm," Corix said, raising a hand slowly in a calming gesture. His tone was firm, measured. "We seek passage to Caelluma."

The elf's gaze flicked between them, lingering on Raelyn for a moment longer. His grip on the bow did not waver. "What business does a human and her companions have with Caelluma?" His voice was laced with distrust, his Elvish accent light but unmistakable.

Raelyn swallowed hard, her throat dry as she took a step forward. "I... I need to learn elven magic," she said, her words tumbling out in a rush. "It's important."

The elf's expression remained impassive, but his eyes narrowed slightly. A faint scoff escaped him, sharp and derisive. "Elven magic?" he repeated, the words laced with incredulity. "You, a human, seek to learn the magic of the elves?" He tilted his head, his sharp features catching the dappled light. "This is either an insult, or a jest."

 "It's neither." Raelyn said quickly

"It's impossible." came the retort.

Corix stepped in, his voice steady and calm. "The girl carries something tied to ancient magic, she is able to channel it." he explained, gesturing slightly toward Raelyn. "We believe your elders may understand it better than we do. All we ask is an audience with your leader."

The elf's gaze shifted to Corix, then back to Raelyn, his expression unreadable.  His gaze dropped briefly to the locket beneath her robes, its faint glow barely perceptible through the fabric. "Ancient magic..." he murmured, the skepticism in his voice tempered with curiosity. "You come with bold claims, human. But claims alone will not earn my trust—or the trust of my people."

Raelyn's heart sank as she realized how monumental the task before them truly was. The elf's disbelief was palpable, his words a stark reminder of how deeply the divide between their worlds ran.

Corix spoke again, his tone calm but firm. "We do not ask for trust outright. Only for the chance to speak with your elders. Let them decide if our purpose is worthy."

The elf studied her in silence, his sharp features unreadable. His grip on the bow remained firm, the arrow still nocked.

"Caelluma does not welcome strangers freely," he said at last, his tone guarded. "And trust is not given without reason. Wait here."

"Please," Corix said quickly, sensing the elf's hesitation. "We don't seek to wander your woods aimlessly. If you must deliberate, at least guide us to a place where we may await your decision."

The elf's eyes flicked to Corix, then back to Raelyn. His bow slowly lowered, though his posture remained tense. "There is a farm outside the forest," he said curtly. "A human woman lives there. Seek shelter in her barn and wait for word. If the elders deem your request worthy, you will be summoned."

Raelyn let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Thank you," she said softly.

The elf's expression did not soften. "Do not thank me yet. My word is not theirs."

With a swift, fluid motion, he stepped back into the shadows of the trees and vanished, leaving no trace of his presence. The rustle of leaves was the only sound that marked his departure.

Hovan let out a low breath, shaking his head. "Friendly lot, aren't they?"

Corix shot him a warning look. "Elves have every reason to be cautious. Trust is hard-earned with their kind."

Raelyn glanced back at the trees, her gaze lingering on the spot where the elf had disappeared. 

"We'd best not linger," Corix said, tugging on the reins of his horse. "Let's find this farm."

The farm lay at the edge of the woods, its modest plot surrounded by overgrown fields and a crumbling stone fence. The farmhouse itself was weatherworn but sturdy, its shutters slightly askew and its thatched roof patched with mismatched bundles of straw. As the group approached, a middle-aged woman emerged from the front door, her sharp eyes squinting against the fading light. Her wiry frame was clothed in a simple brown dress, and her hands rested firmly on her hips.

She gave them a once-over, her gaze lingering warily on the sword at Hovan's hip. "Travelers, eh? You don't look like you're here for trade," she said, her voice brisk and suspicious.

"We're passing through," Corix replied, his tone calm but polite. "We need shelter for the night. Just the barn will do."

The woman crossed her arms, her expression hard. "Shelter doesn't come free."

Corix nodded and reached into his satchel, retrieving some coins. He placed them into her outstretched hand, the metal clinking softly in the stillness. She inspected the coins briefly before jerking her chin toward the barn.

"Barn's dry. Don't mess with my animals, and don't go snooping around the house. I don't take kindly to thieves." Her tone was sharp, but there was no malice in it—only the wariness of someone who'd seen too many hard days.

"We'll keep to ourselves," Hovan assured her. He dismounted, leading his horse toward the barn. Corix and Raelyn followed suit, their mounts snorting softly as they moved.

The barn was humble but serviceable, its interior dim and quiet save for the rustle of hay and the faint creak of wooden beams. A few chickens clucked idly near the stalls, and a thin cat slinked between the shadows, watching them with cautious amber eyes. The air smelled of earth and straw, the faint scent of manure lingering beneath the sweetness of dried grass.

Once their horses were settled in the stalls, the group set up their makeshift camp in the open center of the barn. Night fell quickly, the sounds of the farm fading into the background as darkness blanketed the countryside. They gathered around a small lantern that Corix had lit, its soft glow casting flickering shadows on the rough wooden walls.

Corix sat cross-legged on the hay-strewn floor. He ran a hand through over his balding head, his expression thoughtful. "We'll wait here for the elves' response," he said, breaking the silence. "It could take some time, but they're our best chance."

Raelyn looked up from where she was inspecting her sword, her brow furrowed. "Do you really think they'll help us?" she asked, her voice tinged with doubt.

Corix hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "I can't say for sure. The elves keep to themselves, and their ways are... different. But we have to try. If they see the importance of your task—of what's at stake—they may set their reservations aside."

Hovan leaned back against a wooden post, his arms crossed. "And if they don't?"

Corix exhaled slowly. "Then we'll ask them to guide us to someone who can help. They might point us in the right direction if nothing else."

Raelyn's gaze dropped to the locket beneath her robes, its faint warmth a constant reminder of the responsibility she carried. "You think they'll care about Unevia? About the demons?"

"They should," Corix said firmly. "What happened in Kaiswen could happen to all of Unevia if left unchecked. We just have to convince them that teaching you their magic isn't just about helping us—it's about protecting everyone."

The conversation fell into a heavy silence, the weight of their uncertain mission pressing down on all of them. The lantern flickered, its light dancing across the barn's beams and casting long shadows that seemed to shift and writhe.

Raelyn shivered, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders. She glanced toward the corners of the barn, where the shadows gathered thick and deep. The feeling had been nagging at her for hours—a prickling sensation at the back of her neck, as though unseen eyes were fixed on her.

Without a word she stood, grabbing the lantern and walking towards a spot where the shadows seemed deepest.

Hovan frowned. "What's gotten into you?"

Raelyn hesitated, her fingers tightening around the lantern's handle. "I just... something doesn't feel right."

She moved deliberately, the lantern's glow cutting through the darkness as she approached the far corners of the barn. The light revealed only hay, scattered tools, and the faint glint of a metal bucket. But as she turned, the shadows seemed to shift just beyond the lantern's reach, their edges flickering unnaturally.

The locket beneath her robes grew warm, almost uncomfortably so, the sensation startling her. She froze mid-step, her free hand instinctively flying to the pendant. Its usual gentle hum now pulsed in rapid bursts, as though reacting to something nearby.

Her breath quickened. "Hello?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rustle of hay.

The lantern's light swept over the corner, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw something—faint, formless shapes that twisted and vanished as soon as the light touched them. The locket's heat spiked, a sharp pulse that sent a shiver down her spine. It felt almost alive, warning her of something unseen. Her heart pounded in her chest, a cold dread settling in her stomach.

"Raelyn?" Hovan's voice called from the center of the barn, breaking the spell.

"It's nothing," she said quickly, though her voice wavered. She returned to the group, her steps hurried, and set the lantern down with trembling hands. The locket's warmth subsided as she moved away from the shadows, leaving her shaken.

"Everything alright?" Corix asked, glancing up from his book.

Raelyn nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Just my imagination." But the unease gnawed at her, even as she settled into her bedroll.

As the others drifted into quiet conversation and eventual sleep, Raelyn lay awake, her eyes fixed on the rafters above. The sensation of being watched hadn't faded. It clung to her like a cold mist, whispering at the edges of her mind.

She clutched the locket beneath her robes, its warmth offering little comfort. The earlier pulses lingered in her memory, making her question whether the locket had sensed something—or someone—in the shadows. Even as exhaustion pulled her closer to sleep, the shadows at the corners of the barn seemed to press closer, their presence a silent, unseen weight.