Dawn crept slowly through the canopy, casting pale golden strands across the ground as Aeryn followed behind Elder Serath through the outer ward of Vaelorian Grove. Though he slept only a handful of hours, the System's earlier surge still buzzed faintly in his veins, as if the memory of that brush with death refused to quiet. His body felt lighter, sharper—not strong, not yet, but awakened.
The grove was rousing itself. Elves moved between root-bridges and platforms woven naturally from living wood, each bearing crates, herbs, water skins, or arcane tools. The aftermath of the chasm beast attack still hung in the air: anxiety, vigilance, and above all, curiosity. No creature of its kind had been seen so close to the village in decades.
Mother's warning echoed through Aeryn's mind. Bloodline secrets. Old dangers. A world no longer sleeping.
Aeryn kept those thoughts still. Today, he needed clarity—not fear.
Serath led him toward the heart of the grove, where a colossal, spiraling root rose from the ground like an ancient pillar. The elder's steps were silent, his expression as calm as unbroken ice. Aeryn had known him all his life, but he had never been summoned to speak privately with him.
That alone told him something was shifting.
"You have questions," Serath said without turning. His voice was gentle yet firm, aged yet unyielding. "The entire grove senses it in you. You were close enough to the creature's aura to be changed."
Aeryn hesitated. "I am… the same."
"You are not." Serath paused before the great root and placed his palm against its surface. Light flared faintly beneath his hand, and the wood parted like woven threads loosening. A narrow opening formed. "Step inside."
Aeryn obeyed.
The interior was dim but warm, lit by gentle blue glimmers embedded in the bark. The air thrummed with energy deeper than mana—something older, something that hummed like distant whispers moving beneath the earth.
Serath followed and sealed the entrance behind them.
"This chamber is warded," the elder said. "Nothing spoken here leaks beyond the roots. Even the astral winds cannot pry into it."
Aeryn's brow furrowed. "Why would we need such secrecy?"
Serath studied him carefully. "Before we speak, show me the mark."
Aeryn froze.
His breath caught.
"My… mark?"
"The one left upon your spirit," Serath said. "Do not insult me by pretending it does not exist. I felt its pulse when you stepped into the grove's boundary before sunrise."
Aeryn swore his heart stopped.
The System.
No one should be able to sense it. In every story—every instinct—he knew the System was something meant to be hidden. A weapon. A guide. A danger.
He hesitated for too long.
Serath exhaled tiredly. "Very well. Then allow me to look."
He reached out.
Aeryn stumbled back, panic streaking through him as the System thrummed like a beating drum in his mind.
[Warning: High-level spiritual probe detected.]
[Adaptive Concealment Recommended?]
Yes.
Anything.
The System complied instantly—cold, silent, precise.
A veil dropped through Aeryn's spirit, cloaking the construct within him like a shadow pulled tight around a flame.
But Serath's hand had already brushed Aeryn's forehead.
Aeryn felt something enter—not a force, but an echo. A memory of wind, ancient and slow, threading through his thoughts. His vision blurred, the chamber dissolving into flickers of forgotten forests and phantom stars.
Then it was gone.
Serath's eyes widened. Not in surprise, but in deep, troubled concern.
"You carry… something," he said slowly, voice dropping to a whisper. "It shields itself with skill beyond my reach. Something ancient, for even my sight cannot pierce it."
Aeryn forced his voice steady. "Is it dangerous?"
"Everything hidden is dangerous," Serath said, stepping back, "especially if it chooses to remain hidden even from you."
Aeryn swallowed.
He didn't reveal anything.
Not the messages.
Not the growth.
Not the status.
Not the truth that only he could see it.
Serath's expression grew contemplative. "When you were born, Aeryn, you were an anomaly. You cried without sound. You opened your eyes before breathing your first breath. You looked at us—as if you recognized us. Some believed you a blessing. Others feared you were a sign."
Aeryn's blood chilled.
Serath continued. "Elyndor is changing. Astral tides are shifting. Creatures that belonged to old nightmares stir again. And now, a boy who should have been ordinary stands before a beast no child should survive."
Aeryn almost spoke—almost confessed the System—but something in him tightened. A gut instinct. A whisper from deep within:
Not yet. Not here. Not to anyone.
Serath watched him carefully. "…You will tell me one day. I trust that."
Aeryn lowered his gaze. "I will tell you when I understand it myself."
The elder nodded slowly. "That is fair."
Silence stretched between them, filled only by the faint hum of the chamber.
Then Serath shifted the topic. "The creature that attacked you was an Astral Wretch—a predator that feeds on wavering spirits. It should not exist here. Not unless something called it."
Aeryn's mind sharpened. "Called it?"
"Yes." Serath pressed his palm against the root-wall, and luminous veins spread out like a map of intertwined rivers. "The grove recorded the spiritual tremor. The Wretch emerged not from the forest, but through a tear in the astral layer."
Aeryn took a step forward. "A tear… like a rift?"
"Exactly." Serath turned to him. "And the tear formed near you."
Aeryn froze.
His heart pounded hard enough to hurt.
Was it coincidence?
Or did the System draw it?
Or worse—did his existence pull something from beyond?
Serath's expression was grave. "I do not accuse you. I do not suspect you. But I fear the realm has taken notice of you sooner than expected."
Aeryn forced a steady breath. "What must I do?"
"You must grow." Serath placed a hand on his shoulder. "Strength is no longer an option—it is your obligation."
Aeryn nodded.
He had already decided that the moment he opened his eyes in this world.
Serath continued, voice dropping lower. "Tonight, you will descend with me into the Underroots. The sacred chambers that record our clan's history. Something sleeps beneath the grove. I need to confirm whether it has begun to stir."
"Why me?" Aeryn asked softly.
"Because you will feel it if it moves," Serath replied. "Even if you do not understand why."
Aeryn's pulse quickened.
He understood what the elder was not saying.
Whatever force lingered beneath the roots—whatever ancient presence slumbered there—was tied to the same unknown that clung to Aeryn's soul.
The same force that left him with the System.
He bowed his head. "I will go."
Serath smiled faintly. "I expected nothing less."
A low rumble echoed through the root chamber—a deep, trembling thud that resonated through the floor. The elder stiffened. Aeryn felt it through the soles of his feet, a cold vibration that crept up his spine like the touch of a forgotten ghost.
Serath whispered, "It begins."
Before Aeryn could ask, the chamber shuddered again. This time, the lights embedded in the bark flickered violently.
A cry echoed faintly from outside—muffled, distant, but filled with alarm.
Serath cursed under his breath and motioned Aeryn toward the exit. "We move now!"
The root parted, and they stepped back into the open grove. Elves gathered near the village's eastern boundary, weapons drawn, the air thick with mana. A shimmering distortion pulsed at the edge of the forest—like heat rising from stone, but colder, darker.
A tear.
Aeryn's heart twisted.
The same aura the Wretch carried—faint but unmistakable—leaked from the distortion.
One of the hunters rushed toward Serath. "Elder! Another anomaly has appeared!"
Serath lifted his hand. "Hold your formation! Do not provoke the tear!"
The air rippled again.
A sound crawled through the distortion, soft and wet, like something dragging itself through a narrow passage.
The hunters faltered.
Aeryn stepped closer before he realized it. The System reacted instantly, messages flashing across his vision:
[External Interference Detected.]
[Unstable Spatial Rift Identified.]
[Warning: Entity Emerging.]
[Unique Synchronization Possible.]
Aeryn's breath caught.
Synchronization?
He didn't know what that meant—but the System would not offer something meaningless.
The distortion buckled inward like a collapsing tunnel—
—and then something burst out.
Not a Wretch.
Not a beast.
Not anything Aeryn recognized.
It was a mass of shifting black, dripping shadows, its form unraveling and reforming like liquid darkness trying to remember the shape of a living creature. The hunters recoiled as the ground beneath it rotted instantly.
Mana warped around it.
Aeryn felt a piercing tremor slice through his mind.
The System flared violently:
[High-tier Astral Aberration Detected.]
[Designation: Umbral Remnant.]
[Threat Level: Catastrophic for Current Host.]
[Recommendation: Flee.]
Aeryn didn't move.
He couldn't.
Because the aberration's head—or what passed for a head—snapped toward him.
And it spoke.
Not with a voice.
With a whisper that slid directly into his mind.
"I… found… you…"
Aeryn staggered as the words clawed through him, cold and venomous. The hunters broke formation, shouting spells, but Serath barked for them to hold.
The elder's eyes widened as he sensed it too. "Aeryn—back away!"
He couldn't.
The aberration lunged.
The ground erupted beneath its weight as it surged toward him, shadows writhing, jaws splitting open like tearing cloth.
Aeryn's breath vanished.
He reached blindly for mana, but his core was too small, too weak—
Yet the System roared:
[Override Activated.]
[Initiating Emergency Synchronization.]
[Conduit Level: Minimal.]
[Accept?]
Yes.
Anything.
The world snapped.
Light and void collided inside him.
His vision whitened, and something flooded his body—a cold fire, a spiraling torrent of ethereal energy he did not understand. His limbs numbed, then sharpened. His senses expanded in every direction at once.
Time slowed.
The aberration's jaws stretched toward him, inches from tearing into him—
And Aeryn moved.
Not fast.
Not strong.
But chosen.
Mana that should have been impossible surged through his palm, forming a faint, flickering sigil—an incomplete shape, trembling with instability, yet burning like a star on the brink of birth.
Aeryn didn't know what it was.
But his instincts did.
He thrust his hand forward.
The sigil detonated.
A blast of pale astral light erupted, slamming into the aberration's head with a resounding crack. Darkness screamed. The creature reeled backward, its form unraveling violently where the light touched it, unable to maintain its shape.
Gasps rippled across the hunters.
Even Serath froze.
Aeryn stared at his own trembling hand, still wrapped in fading light.
The System whispered:
[First Synchronization Complete.]
[New Trait Acquired: Astral Conduit (Dormant).]
[Stability Rating: 12%.]
[Warning: Host Body Not Yet Compatible.]
Aeryn collapsed to one knee as the energy inside him flickered painfully.
The aberration roared and steadied itself, shadows writhing angrily as it began to reform.
Serath snapped out of his shock. "Form up! Protect Aeryn!"
Hunters surged forward to shield him.
Serath stepped before the aberration, light blooming around his arms as he summoned ancient runes. "That thing wants the boy. It does not leave this grove alive!"
The aberration lunged again—
And the battle for Aeryn's life erupted.
He could barely lift his head.
But he knew one thing as his vision blurred and the System whispered warnings into his fading consciousness.
This world had already marked him.
And whatever hunted him had no intention of stopping.
Not until the mystery of his existence was torn open—
or he died before uncovering it.