The mist thinned as Seris pulled Ravel deeper into the woods. Their steps were quick but careful. Seris checked every shadow and every tree hollow, her eyes sharp even though the fight with the Wretch had taken much of her strength. Ravel kept close behind her, one hand pressed firmly to the sphere inside his cloak. It had cooled slightly, though occasional pulses still flickered through his chest.
The forest around them had changed. The trees grew thicker, older, their trunks covered in layered moss that hung like curtains. Roots twisted over the ground like shapes of sleeping animals. The air smelled faintly of smoke, though no fire burned anywhere nearby.
Only the silence clung to them. A heavy quiet that felt placed there by something that wanted to listen.
Ravel spoke in a low voice. "Do the guardians know what just happened?"
"They felt the scream," Seris said. "Everything in these woods felt it."
Ravel looked back the way they came. The mist hid the path, swallowing any sign of the Wretch's remains. "Will it attract another one?"
"No two Wretches walk the same ground," Seris said. "But other kinds might come."
"That does not help," Ravel muttered.
"It was not meant to," Seris said. "I want you alert."
They moved between two broken tree stumps. Past them, a narrow trail dipped downward. Roots knotted across the path, forming a series of uneven steps. Seris descended first. Ravel followed, steadying himself on a low branch.
Halfway down, he stopped.
A soft rustle came from the dense undergrowth to their right. Not wind. Not the shift of animals. Something watched them from a thicket of ferns. Ravel felt a prickle on the back of his neck.
"Seris," he whispered.
She lifted a hand to halt him.
There was a pause.
Then the rustle came again.
The ferns parted slightly. A pair of small round eyes stared out at them. They glowed with a faint green light.
Ravel stiffened. "Another guardian?"
"No," Seris said. "Too small."
The creature in the ferns blinked. Its eyes remained the only visible part of it. The rest of its body stayed hidden in foliage that shifted subtly, almost as if the creature blended into it.
A soft chirp sounded. High pitched. Quick.
Seris lowered her hand slightly. "It is a Watcher."
Ravel frowned. "Like the big owl earlier?"
"No. That was a guardian. Watchers are different." Seris crouched slowly without taking her eyes off the undergrowth. "They report what they see."
"To whom?"
"To whoever listens," Seris said. "Sometimes to the forest itself. Sometimes to something living in it."
The creature's eyes narrowed slightly. It made another soft chirp, this one longer. The leaves near it quivered.
Ravel whispered, "Does it understand us?"
"It understands intent," Seris said. "Watchers do not respond to words. They respond to what you carry."
Ravel felt the sphere warm again, as if its attention turned toward the small glowing gaze.
The Watcher chirped sharply.
Leaves overhead rustled in response.
Ravel took a small step back. "It is calling something."
"Yes," Seris said. "Stay calm. Watchers do not summon danger unless they sense it."
Ravel grimaced. "But I am carrying something dangerous."
Seris shook her head. "The sphere does not feel dangerous to a Watcher. It feels active."
"Active does not sound better."
"It is better than corrupt," Seris said. "If the sphere held Rot or Hunger, the Watcher would have attacked."
The creature shifted. Its small body emerged slightly from the ferns. Its shape resembled a mix between a rabbit and a lizard, with short legs and a thin tail. Its fur was a pale mossy green that changed shade as it moved. The eyes were still the brightest part of it.
It sniffed the air in Ravel's direction.
Then it chirped again.
Ravel asked, "What does that one mean?"
Seris listened. "It wants to see the sphere."
Ravel froze. "That is not happening."
"It will not take it," Seris said. "But refusing will make it nervous."
Ravel hesitated. His heartbeat picked up. The Watcher tilted its head impatiently.
Seris spoke quietly. "Show it. Only for a moment."
Ravel drew a slow breath. He reached into his cloak and pulled the sphere out just enough for the Watcher to see its surface. The red core pulsed steadily, like a heartbeat.
The Watcher went silent.
Its eyes widened.
For several seconds it studied the sphere without moving. The green glow in its eyes flickered. The ferns behind it trembled as if brushing against something unseen.
Then the small creature chirped four quick notes that echoed lightly through the trees.
Seris stiffened. "That is a call."
"A call for what," Ravel asked.
"For something higher on the chain," Seris said.
Ravel took a slow step back. "Which means what exactly?"
"It means a stronger forest spirit is awake and coming toward us." Seris reached for her sword. "Put the sphere away. Now."
Ravel shoved it back under his cloak.
The Watcher darted back into the undergrowth. Leaves covered the space it left behind, hiding it completely. The forest grew quiet again, but the quiet felt different. Anticipatory. A breath held by something vast.
A low hum rolled through the soil.
Ravel felt it under his boots. "Another Wretch?"
"No," Seris said, her eyes sharper now. "Not decay. This is movement from something alive."
The hum grew stronger, rising from the ground like a vibration carried by countless roots.
Branches shook overhead though not a single breeze touched them.
The air warmed. The soil loosened underfoot as if filled with stirring worms.
Ravel stepped back. "Seris, what is coming?"
She pointed ahead, to where the trail dipped into shadow. Her voice lowered nearly to a whisper.
"One of the Deep Root Sentinels," she said. "Something the Watchers answer to."
Ravel tried to swallow but his throat was dry. "Will it attack?"
"That depends."
"Depends on what?"
"On whether the sphere remembers it," Seris said. "And whether it remembers the sphere."
The hum deepened.
Branches parted.
Something massive began to rise from the earth ahead of them, climbing out of roots and soil like a creature waking from a long sleep.