The descent twisted far longer than Aeryn expected. What began as a downward spiral soon shifted into an angled tunnel that pulsed with an inner luminescence, as though light seeped through veins under the stone. The air grew thicker, warmer, and tinged with a faint metallic taste that clung to his tongue. Each step echoed differently—first hollow, then dense, then strangely muffled, like the stone swallowed sound itself.
Araniel kept a steady pace at his side, the glow from her silver runestones flickering against the uneven walls. Behind them, Lysander moved silently, the shadow he wore clinging to him with a will of its own. Caelith walked last, his spear at the ready, every muscle tense. Though no creature had confronted them yet, an oppressive awareness pressed on the group, as if something ancient watched from behind the stone.
After nearly an hour of descent, the tunnel abruptly widened into an immense cavern. Aeryn halted. Breath caught in his chest.
The cavern was alive.
Massive roots—thicker than fortress walls—hung from the ceiling like colossal serpents, pulsing with amber light. They twisted downward into the depths, disappearing through cracks and crevices that looked carved by time itself. The stone underfoot glimmered faintly, etched with natural patterns resembling sigils, though clearly not crafted by mortal hands.
A deep vibration hummed beneath Aeryn's feet, steady as a heartbeat.
Araniel whispered, "The Deep Root… it still breathes."
The chamber was unlike any place Aeryn had seen. It felt sacred, yet heavy. Alive, yet also close to dying. His senses sharpened before he realized the System had activated on its own.
[Environmental Recognition Engaged]
[Anomaly Detected: Residual Ether of Ancient Origin]
[Warning: High-Intensity Ether Concentration—Prolonged Exposure Unadvised]
Aeryn exhaled slowly. "This place is full of Ether."
"Not just Ether," Araniel replied quietly. "This is where the first elves claimed to hear the Whisper of Origins. The roots you see carry the lifeblood of countless beings. This is… older than our clan, older than any clan."
Lysander stepped forward, cloak trailing behind him like smoke. "Then the pathway forged by the phantoms should be here."
Aeryn nodded. "The Winterlight relic reacted the moment we approached."
He lifted it carefully. The shard pulsed now with a steady glow—brighter than ever before.
Caelith studied the chamber. "No visible threats. But something's wrong. The Ether here feels… constricted."
Aeryn sensed it too. The air felt too dense. Breathing required effort, as though each inhale dragged unseen weight into his lungs.
"We move carefully," he said, tone firm. "If this is the place the phantoms want us to reach, then we're already where they expect us to be."
Araniel stepped closer to a hanging root, her palm hovering inches away. The root pulsed, and something stirred beneath its bark-like surface—movement, slow and almost imperceptible.
"The roots are shifting," she whispered.
Aeryn examined the nearest one. The pulse inside grew faster. Rhythmic. Urgent.
Then he felt it.
The same sensation he'd felt when he touched the Winterlight altar. A call. A pull. A deep vibration resonating with his core.
He stepped closer.
Araniel reached out to stop him. "Aeryn—"
"I know," he said softly. "But it's the same presence as before. Something wants me to see."
The Winterlight shard pulsed again.
As Aeryn's palm hovered near the massive root, the System surged.
[Origin Vein Detected]
[Contact Recommended]
[Warning: Contact May Trigger Unknown Events]
He touched the root.
A blast of Ether shot through his body, bright and overwhelming. His knees nearly buckled. His vision blurred into streaks of amber light. The cavern seemed to disappear, replaced by swirling shapes and towering silhouettes.
He stood in a different place.
A forest of impossible size. Trees so tall their crowns vanished into the sky, their roots spiraling endlessly into the ground. The air was thick with shimmering particles—Ether in its purest state.
In the center stood a colossal figure—vague, shifting like smoke but towering and unmistakably humanoid. It had no face, yet Aeryn felt its gaze pierce his soul.
A sound like layered whispers echoed.
"…finally… found…"
Aeryn tried to step back, but his body wouldn't move.
"…bearer of the system… anomaly… convergence…"
His heartbeat pounded.
"…the clans pursue shadows… blind to the truth… blind to you…"
The figure raised a hand, too slowly, as if centuries lay between each motion.
"…the phantoms await… they hunger… they remember…"
Aeryn's mind throbbed.
"…you are the key… the divide… the correction…"
Everything warped. Shattered. Reformed. The figure dissolved. The trees split apart like severed memories. The light dimmed.
Suddenly he was back in the cavern.
He gasped, hand jerking away from the root. Caelith caught him before he stumbled.
"Aeryn! What happened?"
Aeryn wiped the sweat from his brow, heart still racing. "A vision. Or… a memory of something older than anything I've ever felt."
Araniel frowned. "Your body temperature spiked. Ether surged around you like you were channeling a storm."
Lysander narrowed his eyes. "What did you see?"
Aeryn steadied his breath. "A being… huge. A presence with no face. It spoke about the clans chasing shadows. About me being the key to something. And it said the phantoms—"
The roots overhead suddenly shuddered.
All four drew back, weapons raised.
The light pulsing through the roots intensified, turning from amber to deep, molten red. Cracks split across the cavern floor, radiating outward like spiderwebs.
Caelith snarled. "What now?"
Araniel's voice trembled. "The Deep Root is reacting… but not from Aeryn. Something is invading it."
A low rumble shook the walls. Dust fell from the ceiling. And then—
They heard it.
A sound not meant for living ears.
A distorted, gargled chorus rising from the depths below.
Ether twisted. Shadows pulsed. The cracks beneath them widened until a column of icy mist erupted upward.
From the mist, a figure emerged.
At first it looked humanoid—but too tall, too thin, its limbs jointed at unnatural angles. Its body flickered like a half-formed ghost struggling to stay in this plane.
Araniel whispered, "A phantom…"
But Aeryn sensed it immediately.
This one was different. Stronger. Focused.
Its head snapped toward him. Its mouth—if it was a mouth—stretched open, emitting a soundless shriek that vibrated across the stone.
Lysander moved first, cloak exploding into tendrils of shadow that lashed at the phantom. But the creature shifted, passing through the shadows like mist.
Aeryn summoned his Ether, weaving it through his limbs. His pulse steadied. His thoughts sharpened.
The System flickered.
[Hostility Detected]
[Phantom-Class Entity Identified]
[Strength Level: Unknown]
[Warning: Entity Exceeds Current Combat Threshold]
Aeryn gritted his teeth. "We can't let it reach the root."
Caelith charged with a roar, spear flashing silver. He thrust straight toward the phantom's core. The spear passed through the creature, but the phantom recoiled as if struck by something far more potent.
Aeryn saw it.
Not the weapon—Caelith's Ether.
"It reacts to life energy," Aeryn said quickly. "Not the weapon itself. Channel Ether into your strikes!"
Araniel nodded and raised her runestones. Brilliant light burst forth, crackling like woven starlight. She launched them in crescent arcs that spiraled around the phantom, forcing it back.
Lysander vanished into thin air. A moment later he emerged behind the creature, blades dripping shadow. He slashed downward. This time the phantom jerked violently, its form flickering.
Aeryn stepped forward. His Ether surged. The System resonated.
[Combat Integration Active]
[Absorption Pathway Unlockable]
[Would You Like to Activate Pathway: Ether Pulse?]
"Yes."
His vision flared bright white.
Ether swirled through his limbs, condensing at his fingertips. His chest felt like molten fire. The ground trembled under his feet.
When he opened his eyes, he could see it—threads of Ether connected to the phantom, glowing faintly like strands of dying starlight.
He reached out.
The phantom screamed silently as the threads snapped one by one. It thrashed, form destabilizing. Aeryn seized another thread with his will, severing it with a jolt of pure Ether.
Caelith and Araniel pressed the assault, piling pressure on the creature while Lysander's shadows carved into its flickering limbs.
Aeryn gathered Ether in his palm. A white pulse formed, swirling like a condensed storm.
He thrust his hand forward.
The Ether Pulse shot toward the phantom, spiraling as it collided. For an instant, the creature expanded—swelling like a bubble of smoke—before collapsing inward with a violent implosion.
Silence.
The phantom dissolved into motes of pale light, which drifted upward and faded into the roots above.
Aeryn stood still, chest heaving.
Caelith lowered his spear. "That… was stronger than the ones we faced before."
Araniel swallowed. "Phantoms shouldn't appear here. The Deep Root is sacred ground."
Lysander's voice was low, tense. "Which means something is driving them. Something with intent."
Aeryn's gaze drifted back to the roots.
The pulses had slowed again, fading back into their natural amber glow. But something lingered in the air—an aftertaste of the phantom's presence.
He stepped toward the center of the cavern, guided by the faintest intuition.
The ground beneath his feet trembled softly—different from the earlier quake. This was subtle. Almost… directional.
He knelt and pressed his hand against the stone.
The System reacted instantly.
[Deep Root Resonance Detected]
[Subsurface Pathway Opening]
[Proceed?]
Aeryn exhaled. "Another path is opening."
The others gathered around him as the stone split open in a perfect circle. Light poured upward from the gap—soft, white, and impossibly ancient.
Araniel murmured, "That light… Aeryn, this path wasn't carved by elves."
A sound echoed from below.
A whisper.
Not hostile. Not cold like the phantom.
Almost… beckoning.
Aeryn rose slowly. "Whatever lies beneath… it's waiting."
Caelith tightened his grip. "Then we go together."
Lysander nodded. "And we stay ready. The phantom wasn't random."
Aeryn gazed into the glowing descent.
Somewhere far below, he sensed something immense. Not in power—though the power was undeniable—but in presence.
A consciousness.
One that had been silent for an age.
Now awake.
Now aware.
And now watching him.
Aeryn stepped forward. The path opened wider in response, light drifting like falling petals. The air hummed with ancient energy.
He descended.
The others followed.
As the light swallowed the chamber above, the Deep Root pulsed once—low and resonant—like a drumbeat of fate shifting its rhythm.
The descent had begun.
And whatever awaited them below would reshape the truth of everything they thought they knew.