The fire had died, and wisps of smoke curled into the crisp morning air as David, Giorgi, and Ivane prepared for the next stage in their journey. Each was quiet, the unspoken tension that lay between them a reflection of their minds turning back to the conversation of the night before, the prophecy, and what it placed upon their shoulders.
With all of their equipment packed up, Ivane cast a sad eye up the track before them. "The path gets smaller from here, but it feels different. It's almost like someone's watching.
He gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but couldn't help looking up at the treetops-thicker, more foreboding. "I know the feeling," he said lightly, his expression serious. "It's probably just the forest closing in as we go deeper. Or maybe Giorgi forgot to put out the fire right and it's drawing attention.
Giorgi chuckled, but his eyes betrayed a tinge of nervousness. "Hey, hey, don't blame me for the creepiness. I'm here to keep us from starving on this 'hero's journey' nonsense.
They shared a small laugh, though it quickly faded as they continued on. The morning sounds of the forest seemed muted, every step they took heavier. David scanned around them, his senses on edge. Something was off.
"Hold up," David said suddenly, raising his hand. "Do you hear that?"
They stilled and listened sharp. The woods were still standing, the birds and leaves not even whispering; only the soft sound of breathing filtered through. Ivane clutched at her knife, her eyes darting about. "Perhaps it only… waits."
They walked on with care, each footstep deliberately soft and sure. A few heart-stopping moments later, the silence was broken by a rustling from the underbrush. The three tensed, ready to meet whatever might appear. But to their surprise, an elderly man, cloaked in worn robes and leaning heavily on a staff, stumbled out into the path ahead of them.
Ah, travelers," he greeted them; his voice was soft and as old as the trees around them. "Not often do I see souls venturing this deep into these woods."
David eyed him warily. "We're… just passing through. We didn't expect to run into anyone out here.
The old man sniffed, a dry rattling sound. "These woods hold many secrets. But I suspect you three are not strangers to secrets yourselves." His gaze cut through them, lingering on each of their faces in turn. "Tell me, do you know of the prophecy?"
The three exchanged surprised glances. Giorgi muttered, "Here we go…
Ivane drew closer, cautious. "We… might have heard a thing or two about it. Why would you be asking?"
The man looked down at him, his eyes almost aglow bright with intensity despite his years. "Because I see it upon you—the mark of fate. You carry a heavy burden, and your steps ring with purpose."
David felt a shiver go down his spine, but he forced himself to remain calm. "Who is you?
The old man gave a sly smile. "I am but a guide of sorts, here to guide those who seek answers. But the answers you seek will not go easy on you, nor will they be kind. Fate does not bend easily, neither should you."
The words hung in the air with a strange sort of finality to them. David took a deep breath. "Then maybe we're ready for whatever comes next.
The man nodded approval. "Then follow the river," he instructed, pointing to their right, "till you come to the stone bridge. There you may find what you seek.or perhaps lose something dear to you." And with that he turned and was once again gone into the dark shades of the forest.
Giorgi let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "Well, that was. unsettling.
Ivane nodded. "Yeah, but he was right. We can't avoid this, whatever 'this' is."
They turned toward the river, each of them steeling themselves for whatever lay ahead. The path had grown darker, the trees closing in overhead as they walked. They exchanged glances, each one silently acknowledging the unspoken fear they all felt.
David looked at his friends, giving them a small, determined smile. "Whatever happens, we face it together.
Ivane and Giorgi nodded, their faces set. Then together, they vanished into the dark, with each step the shadows growing deeper, the burden heavier with fate:.