The ground rolled downward at an easy slant. A very thin footpath stretched out in front of us, one that blended into the scenery. The light from above was colored slightly green as it filtered through the trees. The trees themselves must have been several feet taller than usual. It was … odd. The scent of water-laden grass and earth met my nose; it had just rained. The light was filtered, yet warm enough to feel on the skin. Water hung in the air but did not cling to the skin or clothes. The grass was clean and lush, and the bark on the trees healthy and strong.
Rod and Layla were ahead, walking at an easy pace as Layla began to say how this forest felt like an old friend. Familiar and safe. She visited this place when she was young, with her father.
We walked down a small stone path into a glade. The moon here was bright, like Layla had said. Clear, with grass and flowers cleared away or cut down. Dust and mulch covered the area around the stone path, keeping the green at bay. But instead of symbols carved into the earth there were several round boulders planted into the earth, each standing at attention and evenly spaced at the very edge of the glade. Symbols were carved into the rocks, etched and beaten into existence so that they would survive even time itself.
Rod hesitated, leaning to peer at the symbols, studying and tapping at the symbols. “These are new,” he muttered to himself. “Why did he add them?”
“Is it safe?” I asked over his mutterings. “Can we go in?”
“Why are these here?” Layla asked, staring at them. “They weren’t…he wouldn’t…”
Rod shook his head, a hand pressed flat against them. “These are some kind of runic symbols…I don’t recognize the magic, but there’s barely any of it left.” He looked back at me, something hidden there. “I don’t think it was ever a trap, though. Feels more…protective than aggressive.”
I nodded. “Alright, then. Into the rabbit hole we go.”
Something, some form of magic was definitely present as we walked past the stones. It was like being underwater and feeling a wave push against you. It’s not destructive or angry, just rushing around your form and surroundings. It was…quieting, almost calming.
The house ahead was a two or three story house, white brick with a roof of red ceramic tile. The windows looked like they had been beaten out of the concrete and glass frames forced into the openings. Like a crudely constructed do-it-yourself type of house. But something about it seemed … familiar.
Rod led us down the path to a hand-carved wooden fence, the wood shining as if it had been meticulously maintained. But the vines growing over the sides of the house and down the walkway told a different story. Rod walked up to the door, kicking at the vines and plant life at his feet. He pounded hard on the oak door.
When there was no answer, Rod knelt and pulled two pins from his pocket, inserting one and working the other while we waited. It wasn’t long before the door clicked and he stood with a smile, pocketing his tools and opening the door.
The room beyond was old, decrepit. Wooden floorboards were littered with jagged holes, and a counter across from the doorway was half caved in. The door behind it leaned on rusty hinges, the metal shelves covered in red and white dust, boxes and bags of withered contents slouching against each other in ages-old abandonment. A staircase led up to a hole in the roof on our right, and an open space with rotting couches and chairs spanned out in a square to our left, the central area covered with a square rug covered in moth-eaten holes.
Layla shuddered, looking around with a frown. She reached out, having carefully made her way to the counter to rub a finger across the surface. “What…” she whispered, a tone of respect in her voice, “...what happened here?”
Rod was busy hopping over holes to inspect the shelves, rustling through boxes. “What do you mean? It’s always been like this.”
“No,” she said, louder. “No, it wasn’t.” She stood staring at the counter.
“So this is the place,” I said, crossing my arms and looking at them both. “Where is the person?”
“Not here, from the looks of things.” Rod managed to wriggle behind a pile of rotting cardboard boxes, and elbowed one out of his way to make room. The box fell to the ground, a handful of ores and rusted tools falling to the ground with a sharp clatter.
Layla swung on him with a snarl, barking out, “knock it off!!” Rod froze, head slowly turning to stare at us. He glanced from me to her before reaching to the side and giving something a sharp pull. Something clicked, and Rod waited a moment more before slowly drawing away, shoving his hands in his pockets and waiting.
“This place was alive once,” Layla said firmly, “and you will respect it.”
“This place hasn’t been alive in decades,” he answered as firmly. “And I’ll treat it as I always have.”
Her form shifted, skin crawling along her frame as she let loose a low warning growl. He was unmoved, staring her down in a battle of wills. She was going to attack, legs tensing. He didn’t move.
Before she moved something thudded outside. A wave of magic burst into the building from all sides, surrounding and trapping us three in a buffeting of noise and energy. Rod winced and I stumbled for a moment, but Layla clamped her hands around her ears and immediately shrunk, letting out a pained feral wail as she stumbled into the counter. She cringed and curled into a ball before the energetic noise stopped as abruptly as it started, the silence almost as oppressive as the sound.
I glanced at Rod as Layla struggled with herself, sniffles and squeaks filling the silence. My eyebrows went up as I mouthed ‘what the hell?’ and he shrugged.
“Protective energy,” he said. “Like I said.” He gestured to the open trap door. “Now, can we go? Or are you going to try that again?”
Layla shook her head, drawing in a deep steadying breath and standing. “Just…stop knocking things over,” she growled, making her way over and dropping down the hole.
“You first,” he said with a grin at me, as if he thought he was the funniest man in the room. He trotted down the steps after her, leaving me to bring up the rear. We descended the dark stairs together.
