The forest remained eerily silent as Amanda, Eryndor, and Fenris pressed on, their path illuminated by slivers of moonlight breaking through the dense canopy. The aftermath of the battle weighed heavily on the group, though Amanda's crimson aura burned as fiercely as ever, a testament to her unwavering resolve.
Eryndor walked slightly behind her, his hand never straying far from his weapon. His eyes darted toward the shadows that seemed to dance unnaturally at the edges of his vision. "Amanda," he began cautiously, "that power you used back there... It's not just stronger. It's changing you."
Amanda didn't break stride, her gaze fixed ahead. "Power always changes those who wield it. The question is whether you control it—or let it control you."
Fenris padded at her side, his massive form still emanating faint traces of the dark energy she had unlocked within him. He growled softly, his golden eyes scanning the surrounding woods.
Eryndor frowned, quickening his pace to match hers. "This isn't about control. That energy felt... alive. Like it has its own will."
Amanda stopped abruptly, turning to face him. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light. "It does. That's the nature of the Seed's power—it's a force meant to dominate. But I won't let it consume me. Instead, I'll harness it and bend it to my will."
Before Eryndor could respond, Fenris let out a low, guttural growl. The wolf's fur bristled, and his ears flattened against his head as he stared into the shadows ahead.
Amanda's eyes narrowed, her senses sharpening. She extended a hand, feeling the threads of mana in the air. A faint pulse echoed back to her—a ripple of magic that was neither natural nor benign.
"Something's coming," she murmured, her voice low.
Eryndor drew his weapon without hesitation, his posture tense. "More soldiers?"
Amanda shook her head, her lips curving into a small, humorless smile. "No. This is something else. Something... older."
The forest seemed to darken around them as the pulse grew stronger, the very air vibrating with an ancient resonance. Fenris stepped closer to Amanda, his growls growing louder.
Then, from the shadows, a figure emerged.
It was humanoid but shrouded in an ethereal mist, its form flickering as though it existed between two realms. Its eyes glowed an unsettling green, and a voice, deep and echoing, filled the clearing.
"Bearer of the Seed," the figure intoned, its words reverberating in Amanda's chest. "You walk a path wrought with peril and promise. The power you wield is not yours to claim lightly."
Amanda straightened, her expression unreadable. "And who are you to question what I claim?"
The figure's eyes burned brighter, its form shifting closer. "I am a fragment of what once was, a remnant of the guardians who stood watch over the Seed's power. It was never meant for mortal hands."
Eryndor tightened his grip on his weapon, stepping slightly in front of Amanda. "If it's so dangerous, why let her take it?"
The figure turned its gaze to him, and Eryndor flinched as the weight of its presence bore down on him. "The Seed chooses its bearer. But choice alone does not grant mastery. Many before have fallen, consumed by its allure."
Amanda took a step forward, her aura flaring. "I'm not like those who came before. I'll wield this power to destroy the nobles who have taken everything from me—and more."
The figure tilted its head, as though studying her. "Your resolve is strong, but resolve alone will not suffice. The Seed will test you, break you if it must. And should you falter, it will devour your soul."
Amanda's lips curled into a defiant smirk. "Then it'll have to try harder."
The figure's form shimmered, the mist around it coiling tighter. "Very well, bearer. But know this: the Seed's power is tied to more than just destruction. It is a key—a gateway to forces that even the gods fear to tread."
The air grew colder as the figure began to dissolve, its final words lingering in the stillness. "Seek the truth of its origin, or be lost to the shadows it commands."
As the figure vanished, the oppressive energy lifted, leaving the forest silent once more.
Eryndor exhaled slowly, lowering his weapon. "What in the gods' names was that?"
"A warning," Amanda replied, her tone calm but laced with determination. She glanced at Fenris, whose growls had subsided, and placed a hand on his head. "And a reminder of what's at stake."
Eryndor sheathed his weapon, his expression troubled. "If the Seed is connected to something bigger, something worse, shouldn't we be more cautious?"
Amanda turned to him, her crimson eyes blazing. "Caution won't bring my family back. Caution won't stop the nobles from hunting us. Whatever the Seed's origin, I'll uncover it on my own terms."
Eryndor hesitated but eventually nodded, though his unease was evident.
They resumed their journey, the shadows seeming to cling to Amanda more tightly than before. The path ahead felt heavier, the forest's usual noises muted as though the world itself was holding its breath.
For Amanda, the encounter only solidified her resolve. Whatever trials lay ahead, whatever truths the Seed held, she would face them head-on.
The power coursing through her veins wasn't just a tool—it was her weapon, her shield, and her destiny. And she would wield it without hesitation.