"Come on!" I shouted, frustration bubbling over. I can't afford this. I scrambled up and tried again, but tripped a second, third, and fourth time. Each fall scraped away a piece of my hope, leaving it crumbling like the loose soil beneath me.

Why is this happening? I clenched my fists, grit biting into my palms. Is Malikap testing me?

Deciding to follow the edge of the fog-covered hills, I moved along the boundary. The mist swirled just out of reach, teasing me. Every few hills, I tried my luck again, but I couldn't penetrate the barrier. It was as if the fog was a living wall, denying me passage.

There has to be a way through, I thought desperately. I won't let them take me. The distant sound of arrows slicing through the air reached my ears. My time was running out.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. The scent of damp earth and the distant fragrance of wildflowers filled my senses. Focus. Find the path others can't see. Opening my eyes, I scanned the landscape. A faint shimmer caught my attention—a narrow trail winding through the hills.

"That's it," I whispered. One last chance.

Summoning every ounce of determination, I headed toward the trail. The ground steadied beneath my feet as I entered the fog once more. This time, the mist parted like curtains drawn back to reveal a stage set for some ancient play, allowing me passage. A sense of calm washed over me. Thank you, Malikap. I won't waste this opportunity.

Behind me, the frustrated shouts of the archers faded into the distance. The fog concealed me completely now, and for the first time in what felt like ages, a genuine smile touched my lips.

I'm going to make it.

But then, as abruptly as the path had appeared, it seemed to vanish. "Come on!" I shouted, frustration bubbling over like a boiling cauldron. I couldn't afford this delay. Scrambling up the rocky slope, I tried again but tripped a second, third, and fourth time. Each fall scraped away a piece of my hope, leaving it crumbling like the loose soil beneath me.

"Why is this happening?" I muttered, clenching my fists until grit bit into my palms. Is Malikap testing me? Or is fate just this cruel?

Deciding to follow the edge of the fog-covered hills, I moved along the boundary. The mist swirled just out of reach, teasing me like a ghostly veil. Every few hills, I tried my luck again, but I couldn't penetrate the barrier. It was as if the fog was a living wall, denying me passage.

There has to be a way through, I thought desperately. I won't let them take me. The distant sound of an army marching sliced through the air, reaching my ears like the drumming of doom. My time was running out.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. The scent of damp earth and the faint fragrance of wildflowers filled my senses, a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. Focus. Find the path others can't see. Opening my eyes, I scanned the landscape. Nothing but hills, hills, and more hills—then I saw it, peeking out from behind one of the rises: a small pathway leading up into the woods.

"That's it," I whispered, a spark of hope igniting within me. One last chance. I rushed forward, sand kicking up into the air behind me, leaving a clear trail. They'll follow it, but I can't worry about that now. I focused on putting as much distance between myself and them as possible.

Once I crossed the threshold into the hills, the fog descended like a cloak, clinging to my body and clouding my vision. I couldn't see a thing; my sight dwindled to barely beyond my outstretched hands. But I didn't stop running. The pathway twisted and turned, dipping in odd directions, almost like a maze—or so it seemed.

Then, the trees I'd spotted came into view, dark silhouettes looming through the haze, but the fog didn't clear up. I tried to push into the trees, hoping to put more obstacles between myself and my pursuers. As I pressed forward, something pushed me backward, just like with the hills. An invisible barrier.

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"No," I gasped, fear tightening its grip on my heart. Am I trapped?

I knew there was no way but forward, so I continued moving. The forest felt alive, the trees whispering secrets I couldn't understand. I stumbled into a clearing, and it felt like the woods were closing in on all sides, their branches like gnarled fingers reaching for me.

As the mist lifted slightly, a meadow unfolded before me—a perfect circle carpeted with soft, emerald moss that cushioned my weary feet. Towering around me were sentinel trees—majestic oaks whose intertwined branches formed a natural dome overhead. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a mosaic of light and shadow on the ground. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, and the only sound was the gentle rustling of leaves stirred by an unfelt breeze.

Everything looked serene—a fallen log covered in luminous mushrooms, a cluster of wildflowers swaying in unison. But then I noticed it: a solitary raven perched atop an ancient, weathered sign standing solemnly at the center. Its obsidian feathers shimmered with an iridescent sheen. It fixed me with one keen, intelligent eye before cawing loudly and taking flight, disappearing into the canopy above.

Curious and apprehensive, I approached the sign, wondering what message it held. Carved into the wood were the words:

"To navigate these woods so deep, Trust not the eyes, for they can weep. The path you seek is in your mind, Retrace your steps, the truth you'll find."

I stared at the riddle, my mind racing. "What does that mean?" I whispered. Trust not the eyes... Retrace your steps?

The distant sound of marching grew louder, the metallic clank of armor echoing ominously. Panic surged through me. Think! Malikap wouldn't leave me without a way out.

My gaze drifted back to the clearing. The sun was beginning to dip, and the shadows were lengthening. I recalled tales of ravens as silent guides, messengers between worlds. The raven had flown to the left side of the clearing—the side where the shadows were deepest, the trees denser.

"The path left untrod..." I mused. Left.

Figuring it couldn't hurt, I turned toward the left-hand path. The brambles that had appeared so thick parted easily, and a narrow trail unfolded before me, illuminated by patches of golden light breaking through the canopy.

A sense of calm washed over me. This was the way forward.

So far in this dungeon, there had been nearly unexplainable things, even with the gods' magic flowing freely around. I wasn't sure what any of this meant exactly, but it was a bit of a frustrating thing to deal with, especially the part where confusing things happened. But I pressed on, determined not to let the labyrinthine forest or its riddles deter me.

As I stepped into the clearing once more, the mist parted like curtains drawn back to reveal a stage set for some ancient play. The meadow was a perfect circle, carpeted with soft, emerald moss that cushioned my weary feet. Towering around me were the same sentinel trees—majestic oaks whose gnarled branches wove together to form a natural dome overhead. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a mosaic of light and shadow on the ground. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, and the only sound was the gentle rustling of leaves stirred by an unfelt breeze.

Everything looked exactly as it had before—the same fallen log covered in luminous mushrooms, the same cluster of wildflowers swaying in unison, and the same ancient signpost standing solemnly at the center. But then I noticed it: a solitary raven perched atop the sign, its obsidian feathers shimmering with an iridescent sheen. It fixed me with one keen, intelligent eye before cawing loudly and taking flight, disappearing into the canopy above.

Curious, I approached the sign, half-expecting the message to be the same. This time, however, new words had been etched into the weathered wood:

"Amidst the paths of right and wrong, The silent guide has been here long. Its shadow points you toward the sun, On the path left untrod, your journey's begun."

Malice started whistling, which didnt quite make sense given his lack of a mouth. The tune was quite catchy and made me wish I had an ocarina or something to play while going through these woods.

I read the riddle aloud, my voice barely above a whisper. "Amidst the paths of right and wrong... The silent guide has been here long... Its shadow points you toward the sun... On the path left untrod, your journey's begun."

My gaze drifted back to the clearing. The sun was beginning to dip, and the shadows were lengthening. I recalled that moss often grows thicker on the north side of trees, but that didn't seem helpful here. Then I thought of the raven—the silent guide. Ravens are often considered omens or messengers.

I turned to where the raven had flown—the left side of the clearing. The shadows were deeper there, the trees denser. The path seemed less inviting, overgrown with brambles and veiled in twilight.

"The path left untrod..." I mused. "Left."

Resolute, I moved toward the left-hand path. As I stepped beyond the ring of oaks, the forest seemed to hold its breath. The brambles that had appeared so thick parted easily, and a narrow trail unfolded before me, illuminated by patches of golden light breaking through the canopy.

A sense of calm washed over me. This was the way forward.