Chapter 1 The Dream and the Journey

 ### Chapter One: The Dream and the Journey

Woulf jolted awake, his heart pounding and his sheets tangled around him. The vivid dream lingered in his mind, a disturbing vision that refused to fade. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and trying to steady his breathing. The room was still dark, but the first light of dawn was beginning to creep through the window, casting long shadows.

He couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that the dream had left behind. What did it mean? He had always felt a deep connection to the forest, but this dream seemed like a warning. The image of Elder Oak, the Guardian of the Forest, standing strong yet surrounded by a creeping darkness, was etched into his mind.

With a sigh, Woulf pushed the covers aside and got out of bed. He went through his morning routine, though his thoughts were elsewhere. As he splashed water on his face, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. He looked tired, the weight of his worries clearly visible. The recent changes in the forest had everyone on edge, and now this dream added another layer of unease.

As he dressed and gathered his gear, he tried to shake off the remnants of the nightmare. He stepped out of his home into the crisp morning air, taking a deep breath. The familiar sights and sounds of Moonshadow Grove greeted him, but even they seemed muted today.

Walking towards the meeting place, Woulf spotted his friends in the distance. Brann, Nyra, and Liri were already waiting, their silhouettes framed by the soft light of dawn. The sight of them brought a small sense of normalcy and comfort. He quickened his pace to join them.

“Morning, Woulf!” Brann called out as he approached. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Woulf forced a smile. “Just had a rough night. Strange dreams.”

Nyra raised an eyebrow. “Strange dreams? You’ve been having a lot of those lately.”

“Yeah,” Woulf admitted, “I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong in the forest.”

Liri, ever the pragmatist, nodded. “Well, we’ll figure it out together. Let’s get moving.”

Woulf felt a bit of the tension ease as he fell into step with his friends. They chatted about their plans for the day, their voices a comforting backdrop to his thoughts. But as they walked, Woulf couldn’t help but glance back at the forest, a sense of unease still gnawing at him.

Their journey to Luminara Glade was filled with a mixture of lighthearted banter and moments of silence, where each was lost in their thoughts. As they approached the glade, Woulf noticed a change in the atmosphere. The once vibrant glade now seemed shrouded in an unnatural stillness. The leaves, usually a lush green, were now tinged with sickly yellow. Flowers that once bloomed with radiant colors were wilted and gray. Even the air seemed thick and heavy, carrying a faint, acrid smell that made Woulf’s nose wrinkle.

Seeing the glade in this state, Woulf felt a pang of sorrow. This place had always been a sanctuary, a symbol of the forest’s heart. The thought of it succumbing to darkness stirred a fierce determination within him.