Chapter - 24 Forest of echos.
The trio of travellers stopped near a ruined settlement deep within the forest. Time had not been kind to it. Most of the buildings had been made from wood, and whatever gold once decorated the walls and pillars had long been stripped away. Moss covered the rooftops.
Thick roots crawled over broken walls. Trees had grown through houses as if the forest had decided to reclaim everything that belonged to it.
The group dismounted their horses and walked inside. Ancient symbols were carved into stones and doorframes. Strange Norse runes covered nearly every surface that remained standing.
Aatreya looked around the abandoned settlement.
" This was once a gathering place for merchants from the North. They built a temporary settlement here during their travels."
Dia ran her fingers across one of the carvings, her thumb idly tracing the grooves.
"Why is it abandoned? And what are these weird scriptures?"
"Norse runes," Dhira answered before Aatreya could. He looked around the village quietly.
"I've been here before. Years ago." Dia looked at him.
"Oh?"
"What was it like?" Dhira's eyes lingered on the empty buildings.
"Lively."
For a moment he seemed to be looking at something that was no longer there.
They continued walking until they reached the center of the settlement. A large wooden statue stood there. A warrior with a hammer raised toward the sky. Despite the damage and age, the figure still looked imposing. Dia stared at it.
"That's Thor, isn't it?" Dhira raised an eyebrow.
"What gave it away?" She pointed upward.
"The hammer. The muscles. The beard." Dhira laughed.
"Fair enough." He looked up at the statue and nodded.
"Still looks great."
Aatreya stepped beside them. "It was attacked a few months ago."
Dia looked around again. "This place doesn't look like it was destroyed by stone spirits."
Aatreya's gaze remained fixed on the forest beyond the settlement. "Who said anything about stone spirits?"
The smile slowly disappeared from Dia's face. The air had changed. The moisture around them grew heavier. Mist slowly rolled between the ruined houses. The forest became quieter.
Too quiet.
Dia instinctively grabbed the feather hanging around her neck. A bad feeling settled in her stomach.
"This doesn't look like a good place." Dhira had already noticed. His eyes scanned the treeline. The mist was becoming thicker.
It felt denser. Almost alive. He stepped away from the group and unmounted his horse. Then he remembered he wasn't carrying anything.
Before he could move farther, something flew through the air. Dhira caught it without looking.
His wooden mace.
Dia folded her arms. "Don't forget your weapon." Dhira glanced at the patched branch in his hand. Then at her. She pointed toward the forest. "Go fight." Dhira stared for a second.
Then shook his head and started walking deeper into the mist. Behind him, Aatreya spoke calmly. "If you cannot stop a river, let it flow." Dhira glanced back. Aatreya was standing exactly where he had been before, watching the forest.
"It will eventually collapse in the ocean."
Dhira said nothing. He tightened his grip on the wooden mace and disappeared deeper into the growing fog while the ruins behind him slowly vanished beneath the mist.
As Dhira walked deeper into the forest, the sound of dripping water grew louder.
Somewhere ahead, he could hear the steady roar of a waterfall. He frowned. He had been here before, years ago. There was no waterfall in this part of the forest.
Something was wrong.
He continued forward. The deeper he went, the quieter the forest became. No birds sang. No insects buzzed. No animals moved through the undergrowth. The only sounds were the dripping water and his own footsteps pressing into the damp earth.
The mist thickened. Slowly at first. Then rapidly. Soon the forest was completely swallowed by it. Dhira could barely see a few steps ahead. He swung the wooden mace through the air, trying to disperse the fog with his swing, but it simply folded around the weapon and returned to its place.
The whole area felt wrong. The air was heavy with corruption. Heavy with magic. The kind of magic that did not belong in nature. He kept moving until he suddenly stopped. The same tree. The exact same tree. The twisted roots. The broken branch. The scar on its trunk. He had passed it already.
Dhira nodded to himself. Lost. Not physically. Magically. His grip tightened around the makeshift mace. Then he felt it. Movement. Fast. Circling. Something was running through the mist. He lowered his stance immediately. Years of battle instinct took over.
A moment later a humanoid figure burst from the fog. It looked like a man crudely shaped from mud and murky green water. Its limbs twisted unnaturally as it rushed toward him, screaming with a horrible gurgling noise that sounded more like drowning than shouting.
Dhira didn't hesitate. The mace swung. The wooden head crashed straight into its chest.
The impact should have shattered ribs. Instead, the weapon passed straight through. The creature kept charging. Dhira sidestepped. His eyes narrowed. Again he attacked. Again the mace passed through the figure as though it wasn't there.
The creature lunged. Dhira ducked beneath the attack and struck the ground. Normally the earth would have exploded beneath the force. This time nothing happened. The soil was wet. Soft. Mud swallowed most of the impact. Yet the shockwave was still enough to launch the water creature backward. Dhira noticed that. Interesting.
The creature rose immediately and rushed him again. He struck its head. Nothing. Straight through. The muddy figure wasn't solid. At least not in the normal sense. Dhira frowned. His techniques had grown rusty over the years, but not enough to miss this badly. No. The problem wasn't him. The problem was understanding what he was fighting. This creature didn't have a physical body. It was just a form of formless nature, just an element given life.
He dodged another swipe and changed his approach. Less strength. Less force. More control. The next swing was lighter. The wooden mace connected. This time the creature staggered. Dhira immediately understood. He adjusted again. Changed his grip. Changed the angle. Changed the timing.
The water spirit charged one final time. Dhira stepped forward. The mace stopped barely an inch from its face. Yet something invisible struck first. A force neither seen nor heard. The creature shattered instantly. Mud and filthy water exploded outward across the forest floor.
Silence returned. Dhira stood still. Watching. Thinking. The Creature can survive physical hits Or better say is completely immune to them, he just needed to adjust his attack style and make sure not go hit them, use his control and force of swing instead of raw strength which was essential in mace fight, he was basically trading his strength for better control and force.
The mist continued drifting between the trees. The distant waterfall still roared somewhere ahead. Slowly, he lowered the mace. His eyes scanned the fog.
The creature had only been a test. He knew that much. And whatever had sent it, was still here. Watching. Probably waiting.
Somewhere beyond the mist, something moved.
Several more of the murky water body emerged from the fog. One became three, three became six, and soon shadows of watery figures moved through the mist from every direction. The visibility dropped even further. Dhira could barely see more than a few steps ahead. The world had become nothing but pale fog, damp earth, and the sound of rushing feet splashing through mud.
The creatures attacked without fear. They leaped from the mist, clawed with hands made of muddy water, and screamed in strange distorted voices without even having a mouth.
Dhira tightened his grip on the wooden mace. By now he understood the trick. Raw strength was useless here. Every swing became measured. Every movement deliberate. He relied on instinct and experience instead of power.
When one lunged from the side, he shifted a single step and let it pass before striking with controlled force. Another dropped from above and he ducked beneath it, turning his body and delivering a short swing that shattered it into muddy droplets. More came. They surrounded him, but none managed to land a clean hit. A few claws passed close enough to brush his clothes. One almost caught his shoulder. Another narrowly missed his face. Yet every attack failed by inches.
The years had taken much from him, but not for the the instincts carved into him through countless battles. One after another the creatures burst apart. Water splashed across trees and roots. Mud covered the forest floor. Then silence returned. Dhira wiped dirty water from his face with the back of his hand and looked around. Nothing remained. The forest was still, once more. He exhaled and looked at his dirty clothes, he didn't like it. And continued forward anyways.
After several minutes the fog began thinning. A clearing appeared ahead. Dhira frowned. Something felt familiar. He stepped out of the mist and immediately stopped. In front of him stood the ruined marketplace. The old wooden buildings. The moss-covered stalls. The weathered statue of Thor raising his hammer toward the sky. And beside a fire pit, as though they had never moved at all, sat Dia and Aatreya preparing food. Dia looked up and blinked in surprise.
"You already back?" Dhira didn't mind her broken words, he stared at the surroundings for a moment before answering.
"I got lost." Dia looked confused. Aatreya merely glanced at him once before returning his attention to the fire, one finger idly tracing the edge of a small stick. Dhira said nothing else. He turned around and walked back into the fog.
The mist swallowed him again almost immediately. The strange water creatures returned as well. This time they appeared sooner, rushing from the white haze as if waiting for him. Dhira fought them once more. He controlled his strength. Controlled his breathing. Controlled every swing. The creatures shattered one after another. Then he pushed deeper into the forest.
Only to emerge once more beside Thor's statue. Dia nearly dropped the stick she was using to stir the fire. "You again?" Dhira narrowed his eyes. "What happened this time?" she asked. He ignored the question. For the third time he entered the fog.
Now annoyance was beginning to replace caution. The creatures attacked. He destroyed them faster than before. Their tricks were becoming predictable. Their movements repetitive. He walked in what he was certain was a straight line. He paid attention to landmarks. Counted his steps. Watched the position of trees. None of it mattered however.
Eventually the fog thinned. And once again the towering wooden statue of Thor stood before him. Dhira stopped and stared at it. His gaze hardened in annoyance.
The foggy path was irritating enough. The muddy creatures were worse. They were dirty, squishy, weak, and endlessly annoying. Yet neither frustrated him as much as this. No matter what direction he took, no matter how many times he fought his way through the mist, the forest kept spitting him back out at the same place.
This place, this fog filled lands were cursed.