Chapter 9: THE RITUAL SITE

The morning light barely filtered through the dense canopy of the ancient forest as we ventured deeper into its shadowed depths. The trees loomed tall, their gnarled branches twisting like skeletal fingers above us. Every step we took felt heavier, the air thick with the weight of history and the secrets it held.

Ethan walked beside me, his eyes sharp, scanning the surroundings with the vigilance of a warrior. Sophia trailed behind, her normally confident demeanor now tinged with unease. The forest was unnervingly silent, the usual sounds of nature absent, as if the very earth was holding its breath.

The path was almost nonexistent, overgrown with tangled roots and brambles that seemed determined to keep us out. I kept Lydia’s journal close, the old leather cover warm against my palm as if it were a living thing. My mother had been here before, guided by the same words I now followed. But unlike her, I wasn’t alone.

“We’re close,” I whispered, my voice barely louder than the rustle o