Morning light filtered through the dense canopy of Fir, its golden rays catching on the dew that clung to the leaves and creating a soft, ethereal glow. Orin sat cross-legged on a patch of moss, his eyes closed and his breathing slow and deliberate. His mind was focused, feeling the pulse of the aether within him—the gentle hum that Seraphine had taught him to recognize.
"Find the center," Seraphine's voice guided him, firm yet encouraging. She stood a few paces away, her silver staff resting lightly in her hand. "Don't try to force the aether. Let it come to you. It's part of you, just like your breath."
Orin's brow furrowed with concentration. He could feel it, just beneath the surface—the soft, steady pulse of warmth that moved through him like a river. Slowly, he reached for it, imagining the aether flowing from his core down to his fingertips. His fingers tingled, a faint glow flickering around them, silvery and fragile like moonlight on water.
"Good," Seraphine said, a hint of approval in her voice. "You're getting better. Your connection is becoming clearer."
Orin exhaled slowly, opening his eyes. The glow faded, but the feeling remained—faint but present, like a song at the edge of his hearing. He smiled, feeling a surge of pride at the progress he had made.
"How do you feel?" Lira asked, watching him with bright, curious eyes from where she sat beside the now-cold campfire.
"Better," Orin replied, his voice lighter. "I can feel it now, even if it's just a little."
Seraphine nodded. "It's a good start, but you have a long way to go. Remember, this is only the foundation. You need to build on it if you want to survive what's coming."
Orin's smile faded slightly at her reminder, but he nodded with determination. He knew what was at stake—his very existence—and there was no room for hesitation. They packed up the camp quickly, and soon, they were back on the road, the thick shadows of the forest enveloping them once more.
The path wound through the towering trees, the silence broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the call of distant, unseen creatures. As they traveled, Orin kept his senses open, feeling for the aether around him, trying to tune into the subtle currents that Seraphine said flowed through everything in the world.
Hours passed, the path narrowing as they delved deeper into Fir's heart. The air grew cooler, and the sunlight that managed to pierce the thick canopy took on a muted, almost spectral quality. Orin found himself glancing at Seraphine from time to time, noting the way she moved with quiet confidence, her eyes constantly scanning the dense foliage.
Suddenly, the trees parted to reveal a small clearing, and the group stopped short. Before them lay the remnants of a stone bridge, shattered and crumbling into the wide river that gushed below. Chunks of rock lay scattered like the bones of some ancient giant, the remnants jutting out over the river like broken teeth. The water churned furiously, swirling around the remains in a powerful current.
"This was supposed to take us straight to the northern ridge," Mara said, her voice laced with frustration. "We're supposed to be half a day closer to Helior by now."
Orin's heart sank as he took in the sight of the ruined bridge. It was clear that this wasn't the work of time or weather. Something had torn it apart, the broken edges of the stone clean and sharp as if cleaved by a massive, unseen force.
"What happened here?" Lira asked, her brow furrowed with worry.
Seraphine knelt by the edge of the river, her hand brushing over the shattered stones. Her expression was thoughtful, but the lines of concern were visible around her eyes. "This wasn't just an accident," she said quietly. "It looks like the work of a creature—something with enough power to rip apart the very stone."
"Another beast?" Orin asked, feeling a cold knot of dread settle in his stomach.
"Most likely," Seraphine replied, rising to her feet. "The Stoneclaw was a powerful elemental creature, tied to the earth. But if whatever did this was an Arcanum, an aetheric beast, we're facing something much more dangerous."
Lira's face brightened with a hint of optimism. "But you dealt with the Stoneclaw, Seraphine! You'll be able to handle this, too."
Seraphine's gaze hardened. "The Stoneclaw was an elemental beast. I could sense its movements through the earth's aether. But an Arcanum is a different kind of threat. It's not bound to the elements like the Stoneclaw was; it is aether, pure and volatile. If it's an Arcanum that did this, I may not be able to predict its attacks—or defend against them."
Orin felt a chill settle over him as he looked back at the ruined bridge, imagining the force that could have torn it apart so easily. "So what do we do?" he asked, his voice tense.
Mara, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "We can't risk crossing the river here. The current is too strong, and there's no way to rebuild the bridge quickly. We'll have to take another route."
"But that will lead us deeper into Fir," Lira protested, her voice wavering with unease. "Isn't that even more dangerous?"
Seraphine's jaw tightened. "Yes, it is. But it's our only option unless we want to backtrack and lose days of travel. The deeper path should bring us to a crossing downstream—if we're lucky. But we'll need to stay alert."
Orin looked at his sister, noting the worry etched across her face, and forced a smile. "We've made it this far. We'll get through this together."
Lira returned his smile, but it was shaky, and she reached out to squeeze his hand. "Together."
Seraphine led them to a narrow trail that branched off from the clearing, winding deeper into the shadows of the forest. The trees here seemed older, their trunks thicker, their branches tangled into twisted webs above. The undergrowth was thicker, the path barely visible beneath the tangle of roots and creeping vines that clung to the forest floor.
"Stay close," Seraphine warned, her tone more urgent than before. "And keep your senses open, Orin. If an Arcanum is nearby, you might be able to feel its presence before it finds us."
Orin nodded, focusing inward as he had during his morning training. He tried to remain calm, to feel the flow of aether around him, but the weight of the forest pressed down on his senses, making it difficult to concentrate. The air was cooler here, with a strange stillness that seemed to muffle sound, making every footstep feel like a trespass.
They moved slowly, the tension growing with each step as the forest closed in around them. The silence was almost oppressive, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the far-off call of some unknown creature. Orin could feel his pulse quicken, each beat echoing in his ears, and he struggled to maintain his focus on the aether, to keep the fear at bay.
Hours passed, and the light filtering through the trees took on a muted, greenish hue, as if the forest itself were swallowing the day. Mara's face was set with a determination Orin hadn't seen before, her eyes never straying from the path ahead. Lira walked closely beside him, her presence a comforting anchor in the uncertainty of Fir.
Seraphine remained at the front, her movements careful and deliberate, her staff always within easy reach. She seemed to sense the rising tension, her body coiled with readiness as if expecting an attack at any moment.
"Why do I feel like we're walking straight into a trap?" Lira whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Because we might be," Seraphine replied quietly, not looking back. "But we have no choice. If we turn back now, we might lose more than just time. Keep moving. Stay alert."
The words did little to ease Orin's anxiety, but he pushed forward, his thoughts focused on the pulse of aether within him—the flicker of power he had only just begun to grasp. He knew he had to be ready, that he couldn't rely on Seraphine alone if danger came upon them.
As the shadows deepened and the path grew narrower, Orin felt the faintest stir of aether in the air—an unsettling current that made his skin prickle with unease.
He didn't know what lay ahead, but he knew they were not alone.
The deeper they went, the heavier the forest felt around them, as if Fir itself were holding its breath. The path twisted and turned, and the darkness grew, swallowing the light as the trees towered above, ancient and watchful.
Whatever had destroyed the bridge was out there, somewhere in the depths of Fir. And Orin could only hope that they wouldn't meet it face to face.