The Journey Begins

Three days. That's all the time Hemlock said they had before the Aethermere's call would become impossible to ignore. Already Elara could feel it in her bones — a persistent hum, like a tuning fork pressed against her skeleton.

"You'll need provisions," Hemlock said, unrolling a map across his desk. Unlike any map Elara had seen, this one showed paths that glowed faintly, pulsing with soft blue light. "The entrance to the Deep Roads is here, beneath the Whispering Mountains. Three days' journey on foot."

"And if I refuse?"

Hemlock's expression was answer enough.

She packed light: bread, dried meat, a waterskin, and the Codex wrapped carefully in oilcloth. Hemlock pressed a small crystal into her palm — it was warm to the touch and seemed to glow from within.

"A Heartstone," he explained. "It will guide you when the paths grow dark. And Elara..." He paused, and she was startled to see tears in the old man's eyes. "The dreams chose you for a reason. Trust that."

She left Thornwick as the sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose. Behind her, the village she'd known her entire life grew smaller with each step. Ahead, the mountains waited, their peaks crowned with clouds that flickered with distant lightning.

Her adventure had begun. There was no turning back.