The village of Valaris lay behind Kael, its silent ruins barely visible in the pale light of dawn. He stood at the edge of the Ashwood Forest, where the dying trees loomed like skeletal hands reaching for the sky, their blackened trunks twisted and barren. The air here was thick and heavy, clinging to his skin like the weight of everything he was about to leave behind.
He hadn't said goodbye. There hadn't been anyone to say it to.
His few possessions—a threadbare cloak, a knife, and the small leather pouch Meryl had given him—were tied together in a makeshift pack slung over his shoulder. The rough leather strap bit into his skin, but Kael barely noticed. His mind was a whirlpool of conflicting thoughts, each one pulling him deeper into the uncertainty of his future.
Valaris had always been a dead-end, a place people came to fade into obscurity. Yet for all its brokenness, it had been home. Now, he was walking away from it—into a world that felt far bigger, far more dangerous than he had ever imagined.
And for what? A chance to find Zerith Kade, the legendary rogue Essence-Wielder?
The name still echoed in Kael's mind like a curse. He had grown up on stories of Kade—whispers of a man who had once wielded more power than entire armies, only to disappear into the wilderness, leaving chaos in his wake. Some said he had gone mad. Others said he had been cursed. All Kael knew was that Kade was dangerous. And if he could be found, Kael might have a chance to understand the wild, terrifying force inside him.
Or he would die trying.
A cold wind swept through the trees, stirring the ash that clung to their branches, and Kael shuddered. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be anywhere. But the memory of the previous night haunted him—the white flame that had erupted from his body, the terrifying clash of Essence against Essence, and the dark figure that had disappeared into the night. That power was real. It was inside him. And if he didn't learn to control it…
Kael shook his head, trying to dispel the thought. He couldn't let fear stop him. Not now.
"Why did this have to happen to me?" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the forest. There was no answer, only the soft rustle of the dead leaves beneath his boots.
Meryl's words echoed in his mind. Essence doesn't just wake up in people like us. Not out here. Not in these forgotten places.
So why him?
Kael clenched his fists, feeling the familiar burn of frustration rising in his chest. He had been powerless his whole life. A scavenger, a nobody. He hadn't asked for this. He didn't want to be special. But whatever had awakened inside him wasn't going away. It would find him again, and next time, he might not be so lucky.
The path before him stretched into the shadows of the Ashwood, winding deeper into the forest's twisted heart. Kael hesitated for a moment, his eyes scanning the darkness between the trees. The Ashwood was a dangerous place, even during the day. Stories of wild beasts, bandits, and worse creatures prowling the depths of the forest were common.
But Valaris was no longer an option. Staying meant certain death, whether from the villagers who feared him or from those raiders who might return.
With a deep breath, Kael stepped forward, the crunch of dry leaves beneath his feet the only sound in the stillness.
The further Kael ventured into the Ashwood, the more the landscape around him seemed to change. The air grew thicker, as if the weight of the forest itself pressed down on him, slowing his steps. The skeletal trees towered above, their blackened branches twisting in unnatural shapes, casting shadows that flickered and moved with every breeze. The sunlight barely penetrated the canopy, leaving the forest in a perpetual twilight.
Time passed slowly, the hours blurring together as Kael walked. His thoughts drifted, torn between fear and curiosity, between frustration and the strange pull of something unknown—something just beyond his reach.
At some point, exhaustion began to set in. His legs ached, his feet dragging through the uneven forest floor. The weight of his pack seemed to grow heavier with each step, and a gnawing hunger twisted in his stomach. He had no idea how long he had been walking, but the shadows had deepened, and the forest had grown colder.
Finally, he stopped, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The Ashwood was unforgiving, and Kael was unprepared. He had no plan, no real destination—just a name, and the vague hope that somewhere out there, Zerith Kade existed.
A foolish hope, maybe. But it was all he had.
Kael crouched beside a fallen tree, the rough bark scraping against his fingers as he leaned back against the trunk. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, letting the stillness of the forest wash over him. His body ached, his mind fogged with fatigue. He needed to rest, to think.
But just as he began to drift, a sound broke the silence.
A faint, distant whisper.
Kael's eyes snapped open, his heart lurching in his chest. He held his breath, listening. At first, he thought it might be the wind, but no—it was something else. Something… deliberate.
The whisper came again, this time closer. It was low, almost too soft to hear, but it carried a strange, haunting quality that sent a shiver down Kael's spine. He rose to his feet, his muscles tensing as he scanned the trees.
Nothing.
"Who's there?" he called, his voice barely above a whisper. The sound of his own words startled him, echoing unnaturally through the trees. He waited, but the forest remained silent. Still, the unease lingered, creeping into his bones.
Slowly, Kael reached for the knife at his belt. It wasn't much, just a rusted blade he had scavenged years ago, but it was better than nothing. He held it tightly, his knuckles white, as he took a cautious step forward.
The whisper came again—closer still.
Kael's pulse quickened. This wasn't his imagination. Something—or someone—was out there. Watching.
He moved forward, his footsteps careful and deliberate, his eyes scanning the shadows. The whispering continued, a low, murmuring sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. It was as if the forest itself was speaking.
Suddenly, a figure appeared.
It was faint, almost like a shadow, standing just at the edge of his vision. Tall and thin, its form wrapped in darkness. Kael's breath caught in his throat as he froze, his heart pounding in his ears.
The figure didn't move. It simply stood there, watching him. Waiting.
Kael's grip tightened on the knife, his body coiled with tension. He wanted to run, but something held him in place—a strange, unexplainable force that kept him rooted to the spot.
The whisper came again, louder this time, and Kael realized it was coming from the figure.
"Kael…"
His name.
It knew his name.
Kael's blood ran cold, his mind racing. How? How could it possibly know his name?
The figure stepped forward, moving slowly, deliberately, as if testing the boundaries of the space between them. Its face was still hidden in shadow, but as it drew closer, Kael felt the air around him grow colder, the world tightening around him like a vice.
For a moment, he was frozen—caught in the pull of something far beyond his understanding.
Then, in a voice as soft as the wind, the figure spoke.
"You're not alone."
Before Kael could react, the world around him shifted. The shadows swirled, and the figure dissolved into the night, leaving nothing behind but the echo of its words and the cold, suffocating silence.
Kael stood there, his heart racing, his breath shallow.
He wasn't alone.