The Red Woods glowed faint crimson, the trees seeming almost alive. Their leaves shimmered, whispering secrets that only the wind could understand. Every step Arin took made the threads of his bond hum softly, almost as if the forest itself was aware of him.
Lyara walked beside him, her hand resting lightly on her sword. "Stay close. Mira doesn't take kindly to intruders," she warned.
Arin swallowed. "Who… is she?"
Lyara's lips pressed tight. "A witch. Mischievous. Clever. And dangerous. She doesn't just play with magic… she toys with hearts."
Before he could respond, a soft laugh echoed from the shadows. It was musical, teasing, and undeniably human.
"Well, well… what do we have here?"
From between two twisted red trunks, a figure stepped forward. A young woman with hair like embers, amber eyes glinting with mischief, and a smile that made the air around her feel warmer — and heavier — all at once.
"You must be Arin Vale," she said, voice soft, teasing. "I've been expecting you."
Lyara bristled, hand tightening on her sword. "How do you know his name?"
Mira's smile deepened. "Names are easy. Hearts… that's where the fun begins."
Arin felt the bond pulse strongly. Mira's presence wasn't just felt through his senses — it pressed directly against the pulse of his chest, teasing, alive, intimate.
Mira raised her hands, and the red leaves around them swirled into intricate glowing patterns.
"This is Emotion Weaving," she explained, voice soft but commanding. "I don't just cast spells. I draw threads from feelings: fear, longing, joy, even love. Each emotion is a thread — weave them right, and you can heal, protect, or destroy. Fail… and the threads consume you."
Arin's chest tightened. He could feel Lyara's heartbeat steady beside him, his bond with her glowing faintly. And now Mira's threads of playful energy intertwined with that warmth, teasing, coaxing, igniting something in him he didn't understand.
Lyara's voice was low and firm. "Do not let her distract you."
Mira tilted her head, amber eyes sparkling. "Distract? Oh no… I awaken what's sleeping." She stepped closer, letting a few strands of glowing magic dance across Arin's chest. The warmth pressed against him, almost tangible.
Arin swallowed. I can feel the threads… alive. And they're reaching for me.
Suddenly, the forest trembled. Leaves rattled, and a low, resonant growl rolled through the trees. Arin's bond thrummed violently, warning him.
Mira's smile faltered for the first time. "That… wasn't supposed to happen."
From the shadows, a monstrous shape slithered into view — larger than anything Arin had seen. Black scales shimmered with crimson veins, and its eyes glowed a molten gold. But what made it truly terrifying wasn't its size… it wasn't the fangs. It was that it radiated a pulse of magic identical to his own bond, twisted, dark, and overwhelming.
Lyara drew her sword. "This creature… it's… it's drawn to you."
Arin's pulse raced. The threads of his bond thrummed in warning. Mira's fingers brushed against his arm, almost instinctively, trying to anchor him.
"I don't think it's just a beast," she murmured. "It… knows you."
The creature lurched forward. The ground shook, red leaves spiraling into the air. Its roar reverberated in Arin's chest like the world itself had screamed.
And then, it spoke.
"…Arin Vale…"
The voice was guttural, warped, and impossibly familiar.
Arin froze. His vision blurred as the threads of the bond with Lyara, the teasing pull of Mira, and the dark echo of this creature tangled together.
It knows me.
The forest went silent for a heartbeat. Then the monster lunged.
This world isn't just alive… it's hunting me.