The forest roared behind them.
Aren sprinted through the undergrowth with every ounce of strength he had left. The unstable conduits crashed after them—screeching, sparking, tearing through trees as if they were nothing more than vines. Their mana cores glowed like unstable stars, flickering with volatile energy that threatened to explode at any moment.
Fenn darted ahead, weaving through roots and fallen branches.
Lirien kept pace beside Aren, her breaths sharp and controlled, though her legs trembled from overexertion.
Branches snapped. Leaves flew. The forest around them blurred into streaks of green and brown.
Behind them, a conduit shrieked as its foot detonated, blasting its lower leg apart—but it still crawled, dragging itself forward with unnerving determination.
The Supervisor's parting words burned in Aren's mind.
Calder wants you alive.
Aren's fists clenched mid-run.
Alive—but not as himself.
He would never let that happen.
"Keep moving!" Lirien shouted. "The ravine is close!"
"How close!?"
"Close enough that you'll see it any second—just stay ahead of them!"
Ahead, the trees thinned. Sunlight spilled into a wide clearing—and beyond it, a long, jagged tear in the earth.
The Ravine of Silent Echoes.
It stretched far into the distance like a black scar, wide enough that only a desperate leap could cross it.
Aren's stomach dropped.
"That's… wider than I expected."
Lirien didn't slow. "We don't have a choice!"
Fenn barked sharply from ahead.
They were running out of ground.
The conduits thundered out of the forest behind them, their steps shaking the soil. The forest canopy trembled under their shrieks.
Aren looked over his shoulder.
A conduit—missing an arm, half its face melted—charged with terrifying speed. Blue mana poured from the cracks in its skin, trailing behind it like a comet tail.
Lirien saw it. Her eyes widened.
"Aren—JUMP!"
He didn't question it.
The edge of the ravine rushed toward them.
Aren's heart pounded.
Lirien's breath caught.
The conduits' shrieks crescendoed.
Aren reached the edge—
And leaped.
---
1. The Leap Across the Void
The world slowed.
Air rushed past Aren's ears.
The gaping maw below him swallowed all sound.
The ravine wasn't just deep—it was endless, a bottomless black pit that devoured the sunlight before it reached the bottom. Cold wind spiraled upward, carrying faint whispers.
Aren stretched his arms forward, legs kicking for momentum.
But halfway across—
He realized they weren't going to make it.
"Aren—!" Lirien's voice cracked behind him.
Her hand reached.
His hand reached.
Their fingers brushed—
But not enough.
Aren's momentum faltered.
The opposite ledge was still too far.
He gritted his teeth, mana burning from his core.
"Not here," he hissed. "Not like this!"
The conduits reached the ravine's edge. Their collective howls filled the sky. One conduit didn't stop—it jumped after them, an explosion of unstable blue light beneath its feet.
Lirien shouted, "AREN, BELOW—!"
Aren looked down.
The conduit was plummeting directly beneath him, reaching upward like a falling star, its glowing body about to explode and take them all with it.
Aren's mana surged instinctively.
He didn't fully understand what he was doing—but his body acted on instinct, drawing from the wild surge that had erupted earlier.
Ether gathered under his feet—raw, shapeless, but enough to push.
He kicked the air.
The air responded.
FWOOOSH—!
A violent burst of invisible force launched him upward.
A second push carried him forward across the remaining gap.
Lirien, too close to fail, reached and grabbed his forearm.
Their combined momentum dragged them onto the opposite ledge. They tumbled violently onto solid ground, breath knocked from their lungs.
Fenn landed beside them with a heavy thud, rolling back onto his paws.
A split second later—
BOOOOOOOM!
The conduit that had jumped exploded midair, its blue flare lighting up the ravine like a second sun. Fragments of mana-scorched flesh dissolved into energy before reaching the bottom.
The other conduits screeched at the edge, unable—or unwilling—to jump. Their bodies glowed dangerously, unstable mana leaking from every crack.
They paced along the ravine's edge, snarling but trapped on the opposite side.
Aren lay on his back, chest heaving.
Lirien collapsed beside him, staring at the sky.
"Just… Gods…" she said between breaths. "Just kill me."
Fenn flopped onto the grass between them with an exhausted grunt.
Aren let out a strained laugh. "Let's not talk about dying after surviving that."
"That wasn't surviving," Lirien countered breathlessly. "That was cheating fate."
"Close enough."
They stayed like that for nearly a minute, catching their breath while the conduits scraped uselessly on the opposite side, unable to cross.
Finally, Lirien sat up.
Her eyes were still shaking from adrenaline, but she forced herself to steady.
"Aren…" She turned to him. "You used something back there."
Aren pushed himself to a sitting position. "Yeah… I noticed."
"You kicked the air."
He nodded.
She narrowed her eyes.
"That's not normal magic."
"I… know."
Aren clenched his fists.
This wasn't like using mana the way he'd practiced. It wasn't a spell. It wasn't even controlled. It was a burst—instinctive, raw, like something inside him responded directly to danger.
He looked at his hands. They still trembled faintly with leftover energy.
"What did the Supervisor say…?" Lirien murmured. "Something about over-compatibility?"
Aren's jaw tightened.
"We'll figure it out later. Right now—we need to put distance between us and those things."
He stood, despite his legs shaking.
Lirien rose too, brushing dirt off her clothes.
Fenn barked quietly, ready to move.
The conduits watched from the opposite ledge, but none jumped.
Aren's heart sank with the realization that they weren't giving up.
They were waiting.
The Supervisor had vanished.
But he would return.
Or someone worse would.
"Let's move," Aren said. "Preferably far."
They headed deeper into the forest—this time, on the opposite side of the ravine.
---
2. Into the Westwood Depths
The terrain shifted as they walked.
The air turned colder.
The canopy thickened.
An eerie silence settled—a silence too deep for a forest.
It wasn't the same as the Supervisor's influence.
This quiet was natural… yet unnatural.
Lirien whispered, "We're entering the Westwood Depths."
Aren raised an eyebrow. "That sounds ominous."
"It is," she answered simply. "It's said the forest here is older than the clans. Older than the world-trees. Even the hunters avoid it."
Aren stopped walking.
"And we're going into it?"
"Do you want Calder's soldiers catching us?"
"…Point taken."
They continued, stepping around ancient roots larger than tree trunks. Strange glowing moths drifted through the air, their wings shimmering like crystals.
Fenn sniffed nervously, tail low.
Aren placed a hand on his head. "It's okay, boy."
But even he felt uneasy.
The further they walked, the more the world seemed to shift—subtle distortions in the air, faint echoes of whispers that didn't quite form words.
Lirien's ears twitched.
"They say the Depths distort sound and direction. We need to be careful."
"How do we navigate?"
She pulled out a small silver pendant and let it dangle.
The pendant spun—slowed—then faced a specific direction.
"Follow the pull," she explained. "It reacts to stable mana flows in the environment. It's not perfect, but it keeps us from walking in circles."
Aren nodded.
"Then let's keep going."
They walked for another hour.
The air grew colder.
Breath formed faint mist.
The trees leaned inward, branches intertwining like skeletal fingers.
Eventually, they found an abandoned stone pathway hidden beneath moss and vines.
Lirien paused. "This… wasn't in any map."
Aren knelt, brushing away the moss.
Symbols.
Old ones.
Etched into the stone with a precision that felt ancient beyond comprehension.
"Do elves write like this?" he asked.
"No," she breathed. "Not elves. Not humans. Something older."
A deeply uneasy feeling crawled through Aren's spine.
"Should we follow it?"
Lirien bit her lip, considers—then nodded.
"If something old is here… it might hide us from Calder's eyes."
Aren agreed.
They followed the mossy path deeper and deeper until the forest abruptly opened into a clearing.
Aren froze.
Lirien gasped.
Even Fenn whimpered softly.
---
3. The Ancient Shrine
At the center of the clearing stood a structure of white stone—forgotten, cracked, overgrown, but unmistakably powerful.
An ancient shrine.
A single archway framed by runic pillars.
Vines wrapped around its structure like gentle guardians.
Soft blue light emanated from the center—pulsing like a heartbeat.
Aren stepped forward, drawn by an instinct he didn't understand.
"Aren," Lirien warned, grabbing his arm. "This… might be dangerous."
He nodded slowly.
"Everything in this forest is dangerous. But this… feels different."
"Different how?"
"I don't know."
But his system stirred inside him—silent, yet attentive.
It felt like something was calling to him.
Lirien hesitated—then stepped beside him.
"Alright," she said quietly. "We go together."
They approached the shrine.
The air around it was thick with ancient mana.
Aren felt pressure on his skin, like a hand pressing gently but undeniably.
He placed a hand on the archway.
The runes glowed softly.
Lirien raised her bow, preparing for anything.
Aren swallowed and stepped through the arch.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the blue light burst outward—
FWOOOOSH—
A wave of mana enveloped him.
His vision blurred.
His heartbeat echoed inside his skull.
His limbs felt weightless.
The shrine's runes lit up in a spiraling pattern.
Lirien shouted his name—but her voice felt distant, muffled.
Aren's mind filled with faint whispers—unintelligible echoes, like ancient voices calling from beneath a lake.
Then—
A voice reached him.
Clear.
Soft.
Ancient.
---
"Child of Ether… your soul trembles."
---
Aren froze.
The voice wasn't threatening.
It wasn't gentle either.
It simply… was.
He whispered, "Who's there?"
The shrine answered with glowing light.
The runes brightened, forming a circle beneath him.
Lirien rushed in, trying to pull him away—but couldn't cross the circle.
"Aren!" she yelled. "Get out—!"
He tried to move—
His legs wouldn't respond.
The ancient voice echoed again.
---
**"Your body is foreign to this realm.
Filled with echoes not born from Elyndor."**
---
Aren's breath hitched.
It knew.
It sensed something beyond this world—something tied to his existence.
The light grew brighter.
A symbol floated before him—spiral-like, shifting, ancient.
Lirien pounded against an invisible barrier, panic filling her eyes.
"Aren! Aren, answer me—!"
He couldn't.
The light enveloped him entirely.
The voice continued:
---
"You carry a seed of power unknown… uncontrolled… dangerous."
---
Aren's heart pounded.
"Are you talking about the surge earlier?" he whispered.
The shrine's light pulsed.
---
**"Yes.
It has awakened."**
---
The ground shook.
A circle of runes expanded beneath his feet, rising like floating shards.
The voice deepened.
---
"Then hear this, child of Ether."
---
Aren's pulse slowed.
Even Lirien fell silent, sensing the gravity.
The voice spoke one last time:
---
**"Your existence will tear open the hidden truths of this world.
And when the five veils fall…
Not even the gods will remain unchanged."**
---
The light shattered.
A burst of energy erupted from the shrine—blinding, forceful, shaking the trees.
Lirien screamed his name.
Fenn howled in fear.
Aren's body collapsed to the ground—
Unconscious.
But not the same.