Eira and her companions ventured deeper into the mystical forest, the trees growing taller and the path narrowing as they progressed. The air thickened with an otherworldly energy, and the group's senses grew more acute. Arin's eyes darted between the shadows, Lirien's fingers traced the intricate patterns on the tree bark, and Thorne's grip on his sword tightened.

As they walked, the forest began to whisper secrets in a language only Eira could understand. The Oracle's teachings had attuned her to the ancient tongue, and she listened intently. The trees spoke of a hidden glade, a place where the fabric of reality was thin, and the veil between worlds was lifted.

"The glade is near," Eira whispered, her eyes closed, her focus inward. "We must be cautious. The whispers warn of dark creatures lurking beyond the threshold."

Arin nodded his hand on the hilt of his dagger. "I'll scout ahead."

Lirien's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I sense a convergence of energies. This glade may hold the key to unlocking our destinies."

Thorne's gaze swept the surroundings, his expression stoic. "Let's proceed with caution. We don't know what dangers lie within."

As they approached the glade, a soft hum filled the air, like the gentle buzzing of a thousand wings. The group slowed their senses on high alert. Eira raised her hand, and the whispering woods fell silent.

In the centre of the glade stood an ancient tree, its branches twisted and gnarled. The air around it shimmered as if the very fabric of reality was unravelling. Eira approached the tree, her heart pounding in her chest.

"This is the Threshold Tree," she whispered. "Beyond this point, our journey will forever change."
© providence