oved deeper into the unknown area, within the forest, where the trees were so tall that they could almost touch the dome of the trees, indicating that they were almost a

his was the start of something mu

turn to him, and she felt as if her heart was with him. "We are," she whispered back. It's all tangible to my senses, too. Forget it! That is impossible for us now. Like always, the guide was looking sober and did not

r was forthcoming for her, she could not afford to lose her manner. Finally, they progressed out into a tiny clearing in which numerous clumps of luminous mushrooms were distributed

ritory', 'You stand before them, Emilia. And they will not be friendly'. Emilia felt a wave of nervousness run through her, and she started getting palpitations. The Silver Moon Clan. The name itself has a long history and evokes

ble to answer when the undergrowth shook, and a large image emerged from the gloom. And it was a woman; her eyes were large and bottomless, like the spheres of two

energy emanating from them both, and a wave of electricity went through her, making her take a step back. To the woman who looked lik

ing her rather severe-looking face. "Emilia," she said, slurring her a little while maintaining the firmness of her tones. We have been waiting for you. Marcus could only look at E

se to her command. Emilia and Marcus looked at each other, but without any protest, they followed her. Their guide stayed put on a more natural stand at the border of the glade while he observed them melt into the vicinity of the Silver Moon Clan. The

ect intermingled with hatred. Their eyes were on her, and Emilia could almost feel the daggers piercing her back. Such was the discomfort that she felt. For some reason, she couldn

y's face was blank. 'You are the Chosen One,' the woman stated, and her voice carried the weight of millennia as well as a certain level of demand.

tle mysteriously. But understand this: failure is not a joke. Many come to attempt it with their lives. A howl suddenly sounded unhesitatingly from afar, and it was extremely sharp. Emilia's blood ran cold. Marcus suddenly tensed up, and the hand that held the dagger puffed up into a fist. "What sort of trial is this one?" Marcus inquired, and h

a moment and then spoke: "His." She paused, but then left no doubt about her intention. Seeing the new form of aggression taking precedence, Marcus stepped forward and scowled. "She's not doing this alone," he said

ut she understood that Marcus was of no help in this case. It was her tribulation: her experience of undergoing a trial or being tested for endurance. "Marcus, I have to do this," Emilia said softly but deliberately. I have to earn it. You better believe it. Marcus scratched his head, l

path, her heart racing with fear. Hour after hour, she could feel the low-voltage electrical current of her lot in life tugging at her. The forest was dangerous, and what she was seeking was hidden in the darkness