The River of Oaths

The river turned against its own flow the day the ancient pact was broken. Its waters, shimmering with a ghostly light, twisted upward as if defying gravity, swirling like a cyclone made of liquid silver. In the shadows of the Elden Forest, the air crackled with tension, and silence pressed down on every living thing.

Young Mara, apprentice to the last of the Moon Keepers, stood breathless at the water's edge. The forbidden texts she had studied spoke of such events—a reversal of nature signaling the return of the Old Ones, whose voices haunted dreams and bent reality to their will.

"Do you see it, child?" came the voice of her mentor, Halwyn. He appeared like a wraith, stepping out of the woods with a staff that hummed as if alive. The ancient sigils carved into it glowed faintly, answering the river's unnatural dance.

“Yes, Master,” Mara whispered, eyes locked on the impossible sight. The river's reverse current reached up as if searching for something long lost.

“Then you understand that this night begins our greatest trial,” Halwyn said, his voice heavy with years of prophecy and dread.

From the depths of the mist, a growl resonated, deep and guttural. The forest itself seemed to shudder in response. And there, beyond the flicker of shadows, eyes glowed like embers, watching, waiting.