In the deepest hour of the night, the whispers reached a crescendo. A figure, draped in shadows, emerged from the treeline. It made no sound, but its presence felt heavy and ancient. This was the guardian of the altar. Alaric, holding the flickering lantern high, met the entity’s gaze. Elara, her hands clasped, began her silent prayer. As she prayed, the entity’s shadow shifted. The light from the lantern began to pulse, pushing back the absolute darkness.
The Last Light in Whispering Woods
