“I figured we’d be running through physical obstacles, not solving riddles,” Zephyr adds with a huff. “This changes the game entirely.”
“What’s the first riddle again?” Kaël asks, his tail flicking.
I unroll the scroll. “In a grove where flowers bloom bright, find the herb that heals with might. Among the petals, it hides its form. A remedy to keep us warm.”
We fall silent.
“It has to be in a place known for its flowers,” I suggest.
Aeson’s eyes light up. “There’s a grove nearby full of bright blooms. That’s probably it.”
Zephyr nods. “Makes sense. The herb’s likely hidden among the petals.”
“Lead the way, Aeson,” I say, the edge of a grin tugging at my mouth. “And be ready to fight if another team is already there.”
As we dart into the forest, the leaf spirits flit around us, their laughter trailing behind. My mate is clever—watching us through the spirits’ eyes. Every step we take, she’ll know.
Good. Let her see.
I will return with every artifact and a fat boar for her. And if there’s time, I’ll bring her strawberries. After a long day, she’ll deserve every indulgence.
“Theron?”
Kaël’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I blink. We’ve stopped. All three of them are staring at me, smirking.
“What’s got you so distracted? And don’t think I haven’t noticed the shaved claws.”
I glance down at my paw. “Don’t be jealous, Kaël. You’ll find your mate someday.”
Aeson points toward a narrow path that winds along a stream. “This way. The grove should be just ahead.”
We move, weaving through the ancient trees. The canopy overhead paints the forest floor in moving patches of light. The ground beneath us is damp and slick. We must be careful.
Everything stops.
The birds, the rustling leaves, every sound vanishes, leaving behind complete, unnatural silence. We freeze, exchange glances.
I motion for everyone to stay alert and point to the crystals on my forehead. We’ll communicate silently from here.
Breathing in, I try to pick up any scent of danger, but all I catch is the fresh, damp smell of the stream nearby. Something’s wrong. I can feel it, even if I can’t place it yet.
We move forward, every muscle taut, ready for whatever might be waiting. Then, we hear a sound. Soft giggles, light and carefree. Nýmphí.
I recognize the sound instantly, so I raise a paw to signal for calm and to ease the tension. Leading the way, I guide us closer to the stream. The giggles grow louder, and soon, they come into view: Nýmphí shimmering in the morning light as they laugh and splash the water with their feet. One of them plays with a group of leaf spirits, exchanging petals and stones. The nýmphí pause, then turn their attention toward us. Their eyes glitter like the surface of a sunlit stream. One steps forward from the water.
I know her.
Years ago, during a hunting competition, I was determined to win. I needed to prove myself, to show my strength and worth as a warrior and as a future mate.
I tracked an elk to a stream, and that’s when I saw a nýmphá sitting by the water’s edge, her hands weaving glowing orbs of energy in the air. She caught my eye and smiled.
“You seem focused, young warrior,” she said, her voice like a ripple on water.
“I’m trying to win the hunt,” I said. “I want to be the best.”
She laughed. “And why does being the best matter so much to you?”
“Because I need to protect my future mate,” I answered without hesitation. “I need to be strongest for her, whoever she is.”
