moving, giving the impression that the world was a dream that was only partially recalled. Undoubtedly, Elara Vance had become used to it. The fog was simply an
location, a location that she was quite familiar with. It was a little, secluded nook where, if the sun managed to peek through, it
e'd named it after himself. It was a bizarre, gorgeous creature, with petals so delicate they were nearly translu
ne in the mountains. It was something deeper, a prickling feeling on her skin, like stati
few feet, but she knew this area like the back of her hand. Every rock, every tree, every dip
ll track she'd built for herself over years of wandering. She turned a curve, and there it was. The a
for the peculiarity. The ground underneath the orchid was disturbed, an area of bare soil where the moss had been sxcavating, or attempting to. She studied the orchid's roots. They were shattered, some of
mpt and not finish? It didn't make sense. If someone desired the
her. She peered about, seeking any indication of the invader. A broken twig, a footprint, a discarded piece of clot
were chilly to the touch, almost ethereal. The flower still sparkled, a delicate beacon insuddenly seemed suffocating, filled with unseen eyes and whispered threats. Elara felt she had to go,
to find the truth. As she moved away, an unexpected blast of wind rushed through the alcove,
nearly concealed by the orchid's leaves. It was a sign she knew, a sy
ster, Anya, had gone, years earlier. The insignia of the Silent Path, a clandesti
he Ghost Orchid, the emblem of the Silent Path - it couldn't be a coincidence. The past, which sh
rtable presence, suddenly seemed heavy with implicit warnings. The mountains, her sanctuary, her shelter, had become a pri
rror and resolve. She had to find out who had attempted to take the Ghost Orchid, and why. She ha
with hidden perils and invisible foes. The lone flower, the Ghost Orchid, had become a symbol of something much more ominous, a portent of a storm that was ready to erupt. She had to