The Veilwood Glade was shrouded in mist, the path vanishing beneath its curling tendrils. Were it not for the full moon, the forest would have been nearly impassable—a labyrinth of shadow and fog.
Arcanus’ ears pricked at the faintest sound, but it was only the breeze rustling the high canopy. The towering trees that ringed the clearing remained strangely silent.
And thank the Stars, for the elders warned that the trees’ hum could lure even the most steadfast traveler into reverie…and some never returned.
A cool wind kissed his ankles, chasing the mist deeper into the woods.
That’s when he saw it.
A faintly glowing outline, set in the trunk of a gnarled tree. An outline that looked an awful lot like a door. Stepping closer, Arcanus traced the edges with his fingers. Four runes had been carved into the wood, and somehow…he knew.
The door would take him somewhere different, depending on which rune he chose.