After a few days of steady travel, a strange forest came into view.

The road narrowed as the trees loomed closer, their twisted branches curling like skeletal fingers toward the sky.

Only a few travelers would reach this place on purpose, and mist clung low to the ground, swirling around their feet with each step.

"There," Vell said, nodding ahead where the path dissolved into a dense wall of trees. "That's Targe."

Sonder squinted into the fog. Nothing came to mind, but a sense of unease.

“It does look strange,” she said.

In the distance, movement stirred further along the forest's edge.

Figures—at least a dozen—gathered near the treeline, half-hidden in the mist.

"Who are they?" Sonder asked, lowering her voice.

Vell studied the group. "Young witches."

Some wore robes stitched with faint patterns, reminiscent of Vell’s own, though their hems were muddied and travel-worn. A few whispered among themselves, glancing cautiously at the forest, while others practiced simple spellwork—weak orbs of light and flickers of flame that faded too quickly.

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"A new coven," Vell added. "Still learning, from the looks of it."

The group noticed them. A tall witch in a deep, dark green cloak broke away from the others, approaching with measured steps. Her expression was calm, though wary.

"You approach the woods of Targe," she called, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. "Are you seeking the witch as well?"

Vell gave a slight nod. "We are. Though we weren’t expecting an audience."

The witch’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Neither were we. But the signs led us here—the crescent moon, the falling star. She is said to appear only to those who arrive in time."

Sonder exchanged a glance with Vell. "Crescent moon? Falling star? That sounds like star magic."

Vell exhaled. "Yes, it does."

The witch in green narrowed her eyes slightly. "You’ve heard of the signs then? Were you also called here by them?"

Vell shook his head. "No. We came for our own reasons. But it seems we share the same goal. Perhaps we should accompany you deeper into the forest to seek the old witch together?"

The tall witch studied him carefully, her gaze lingering on Vell, his robe, his staff, and the quiet power in his presence.

Finally, she gave a curt nod. "We don’t often travel alongside men... but you carry an aura unlike any man I’ve ever met. Fine. You may walk with us."

Without another word, Vell and Sonder stepped into the mist. The damp earth soft beneath their boots.

The witches hesitated, whispering nervously among themselves. Yet as Vell moved forward without fear, Sonder close behind him, their confidence seemed to waver.

One by one, the coven followed, their earlier hesitation giving way to cautious resolve as they crossed into Targe themselves.