Six days after leaving the Verdant Bluffs, the road changed once again.
The hills slowly faded behind us.
The sea became distant.
And eventually, the world narrowed into gold.
The locals called it The Golden Canopy Road.
I understood why almost immediately.
The road passed through an enormous forest where the trees grew impossibly tall and close together.
Their branches intertwined high above the path, forming a living ceiling that stretched endlessly northward.
The leaves themselves were strange.
Dark green above.
But beneath them—
gold.
When sunlight passed through the canopy, the entire road glowed softly.
Not brightly.
Not harshly.
Warm.
Golden light drifted constantly through the trees like moving water.
Small beams sliding across wagon wheels, roots, faces, and fallen leaves.
The road itself was covered in soft golden leaf litter.
The wagon wheels no longer rattled loudly against stone.
Instead, everything sounded quieter here.
More distant.
Sometimes small rivers appeared beside the road, flowing gently beneath roots and hanging vines filled with tiny white and yellow flowers.
The air smelled alive.
Wet soil.
Fresh leaves.
Sweet flowers hidden somewhere above us.
Even the sounds of insects and birds blended together strangely well.
Like music that belonged to the forest itself.
It may have been one of the most peaceful roads we had traveled so far.
It was also where we gained two additional passengers.
Moonfen Sisters.
Even writing those words still feels somewhat dangerous.
The first time I saw Moonfen Sisters had been back at the Grand Weave.
At the time, I remember becoming so overwhelmed by their appearance that my thoughts simply stopped functioning.
Back then, however, they had worn practical travel clothing.
Simple.
Restrained.
Now—
they were dressed differently.
The fabrics they wore were long, layered, and impossibly elegant.
Thin silk that flowed like water whenever they moved.
The colors shifted subtly beneath the golden forest light.
Soft crimson.
Deep violet.
Black touched with gold embroidery.
Everything about them moved gracefully.
Even small motions.
A hand adjusting fabric.
Hair shifting slightly when they turned.
The sound of layered jewelry beneath silk.
It felt less like watching people move and more like watching beautifully controlled illusion magic.
For the first two days, I kept accidentally staring at them.
Then immediately looking away.
Then looking back again several minutes later.
Repeatedly.
I suspect I behaved like a deeply suspicious forest animal.
The worst part was that they clearly noticed.
Several times, one of them would glance toward me and smile faintly.
Not mockingly.
Almost amused.
That somehow made it worse.
It also took me two entire days to realize something unusual.
This was the first time Caravan Master had ever allowed passengers inside the main wagon with us.
Normally, additional travelers remained with the other wagons.
When I quietly asked Ryn about it later, she answered without hesitation.
“It’s for the crew’s safety.”
I stared at her.
She stared back calmly.
Then added:
“Most of our crew are men.”
I still did not fully understand what she meant.
Though I noticed Caravan Master did not disagree.
Honestly, I was not disappointed anyway.
Being in the same wagon with Moonfen Sisters felt strangely fascinating.
Like proximity to something beautiful enough to distort atmosphere itself.
At one point, I quietly asked Ryn whether these two were merchants like the Moonfen Sisters we saw at Grand Weave.
Ryn shook her head slightly.
“No.”
“These two belong to one of the wandering branches.”
“Closer to adventurers than traders.”
That surprised me.
For some reason, I had unconsciously imagined all Moonfen Sisters as negotiators.
Smiling women wrapped in silk capable of dismantling economies through conversation alone.
But these two felt different.
Still dangerous somehow.
Just not economically.
One afternoon, sunlight filtered through the canopy strongly enough that the entire wagon glowed gold for several seconds.
One of the Moonfen Sisters lifted the curtain slightly to look outside.
The light caught her profile for only a moment.
And I suddenly understood something uncomfortable.
Beauty was not always passive.
Sometimes it altered the emotional structure of spaces around it.
Not intentionally.
Not maliciously.
Simply by existing too completely.
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