"Watch closely," she said, her voice a melodic whisper that somehow pierced the oppressive silence of the Glade. Her hands moved rhythmically, tracing sigils in the air that shimmered and sparked before fading into nothingness. Where once there were snares hidden beneath the foliage, now only benign trails of vines lay still. We followed her footsteps, her robes of deep blue undulating like the sea in a storm, each step measured and sure against the treacherous ground.

"Mind the shadows," she ...