The mist harbored within its dense shroud many an ill scenario, and the twins knew that well enough. Things did not make sense, nature did not act as it should, and there were powers beyond the mundane and the normal at play here. Of this, Allistor and Allisaid were now certain—though there were many questions to be answered still.

Brother and sister crouched low as they moved ahead, inching toward the now silent cabin with caution and stealth afforded only to the exceptionally trained—membership to the Ash Legion demanded as much. Allistor had his dagger drawn—short yet broad, with serrated teeth on one edge—and Allisaid had her hunting bow readied, a single arrow resting uneasily between her knuckles.

The rustling of leaves… of trees not to be seen still—yet whose presence lingered ominously—had now stopped. All sound, for that matter, had now ceased, and silence was the new constant that lorded over the misty backdrop. Soundless, it was deafening.

The twins dared not speak to each other directly, and, as they split—encircling the cabin like bestial predators sizing up their prey—it was the mock vestments of natural life that broke the silence.

An owl hooting; this Allistor called out with cupped hands. “Rear clear—no targets,” is what his sister understood.

The caw of an agitated crow came next. Its hoarse call all too familiar to Allistor’s ears. “Front—clear. No sign of hostiles,” confirmed Allisaid, prompting her brother to get up and join her before the cabin’s entrance.

The door was ajar, and no light came from inside. Allisaid peered from the crack, as her brother did the same from a window.

The interior was empty, dark, and hard to see within—though, at the very least, the mist had not infected it with its miasma. Without spoken word, brother and sister took positions at each side of the door, their weapons at the ready, but before Allisaid made her move, Allistor stopped her with a motion. Following his hands, she saw him reaching for a glass globe tucked neatly in one of his hidden pouches, and then shaking it with intent.

“Soffie, she’s a chapter mage,” mouthed Allistor with a self-indulgent grin, addressing his sister’s cocked eyebrow, before he rolled it from the opening of the door. An orange glow came from within it, growing as the ball rolled, and the light, unimpressive as it was at first, illuminated the gloomy insides of the cabin, as the twins burst in in unison.

No one. Nothing. Except…

Allistor exhaled as if making a point—his breath foggy.

Cold. Too cold.

“Winter’s a couple of months out still. Not inside our cousin’s shack, it seems,” he added, trying to hide his nerves behind his attitude but she motioned for him to quiet, her steps still careful, her eyes wide and alert. There was no source of cold, in the room. For this effect to be felt so strong, the magic funneled would have had to be impressive, recent or, more likely, both. Weapons still at the ready, they kept moving as silent as the creaky floor allowed them, sweat forming from the focus, despite the cold. Then, suddenly he spoke.

“Look at this,” Allistor all but whispered and Allisaid came to him. One of the side windows, the one facing west, was sealed shut—hoarfrost clung to it, the glass no longer clear.

Allistor pushed the window open, and the twins peeked over the edge. There were prints outside, of a beast not immediately recognizable, and they too were imbued with delicate slivers of ice.

“The forest… The Gate,” said Allisaid, and her brother agreed, prompting the two to move with haste and exit the cabin. The prints, vague as they were, led to more of their kind, and the twins found themselves marching through the mist once more. Not many paces after, the outline of trees—many of them—began to emerge in the not-so-far distance, and the siblings dreaded the sight of them.

“Damn them. Damn the Fae to hell!” grunted Allistor while panting. “What have they done to him?!”

“Calm yourself,” responded Allisaid curtly, never raising her gaze from the ground and the tracks. “You’ll tire yourself out.”

Not much time had passed, and the edge of the forest was now before both brother and sister. Dense it was: thick with bark and foliage to the point where it seemed impassable. “No more tracks,” stated Allisaid with a sigh. “We’ll have to—”

“There!” came Allistor’s voice, and the duo rushed forward. The figure of a man was visible. Sat down, head slumped, and his back resting against the knotted base of a large tree. They made to rush to his side but they stopped, shoulders falling defeated.

Quiet and angry, Allistor kneeled by his cousin's side, his voice outlined by a plea. “Odhrán?!” he asked but expected no answer.

The corpse's skin was ivory with streaks of blue where there had once been veins—the flesh hard and frigid. Odhrán’s nose was blackened, and so were his lips; worst of all, however, was the flower. It had bloomed from the mouth—or so it seemed—its stem reaching deep into the man’s gullet. It had thorns along its length, and its petals were mixed, some wide and of the darkest midnight blue, others like blades of white snow.

“Like an edelweiss kissing a rose… I’ve never seen the like of it,” muttered Allisaid between sharp exhalations, but her brother was not as calm.

Allistor pushed the head aside reflexively, but the body moved little. Rootlings—minuscule and thin, but there were hundreds of them—jutted out of the soil, clinging onto Odhrán’s deceased figure like hair embedded in skin. Both twins stood up and took a few steps back, as the forest itself sighed amidst the rustle of leaves and the creaking of branches.

Beware! Beware! And lie not, ne’er, through word or foul deed.

Now this forked tongue, this liar young, for once shall bloom true seed.

“The tree…” Allisaid muttered, wide-eyed awe mixed with wonder. “The tree sang to us. I’ve never…”

“He’s dead!” spat Allistor, his voice trembling. “They killed him… Like all the others.”

“No,” came Allisaid’s response, the woman pushing aside the forest’s windswept message from her thoughts. “This is different. A body behind… Why?”

“Who cares?” he answered. “They crossed the Gate. They killed in our land. The others must know. We must warn the others! We must warn everyone.”

“No!” she rushed to silence him. “You saw what he had done. He’d staged these attacks… He tried to provoke them. He tried to provoke us. I think they’re trying to pass on a message. A warning. Didn’t you hear? Lie not, ne’er, through word or foul deed…”

“Noone will see it so,” Allistor said. “I don’t see it so. What next, eh?” Allistor felt his chest tighten and turned to face his sister. He was scared, she saw, just as she was. Scared and angry. “If he had committed crimes, they were our crimes to punish. They didn’t have the right. This is an attack. They didn’t have the right.”

She shook her head, uncertain.