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Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: Whispers of the Darkwood

The night was silent, a heavy quiet broken only by the rustle of leaves outside Alaric's window. Lina had left him alone hours ago, and he hadn't slept since. Instead, he lay on the hard cot, staring at the wooden beams above, his mind racing.

He could sense something out there, beyond the flimsy walls of this modest hut. The Darkwood. Lina's mention of the forest's name had stirred something in him—a faint, tantalizing memory of old magic and forgotten rituals. This was no ordinary place.

Alaric took a deep breath, steadying himself. The weight of his weakened body was frustrating, but it wouldn't last. He had a path, the beginnings of a plan, and the promise of power was within reach. He just needed to find a way to access it.

With a muffled groan, he pulled himself up, his muscles sore from days of immobility. His hands trembled slightly as he braced himself against the cot, cursing the frail shell he inhabited. But the pain would fade, he reminded himself. He would regain his strength—one way or another.

As he moved toward the door, a faint, pulsing icon appeared in his vision once more.

[Quest: Awaken the Power Within - Part I]

Objective: Absorb the Essence of the Dead.

Progress: 0%

Hint: Seek the touch of death in the shadow of the Darkwood.

The words hung in his vision, and Alaric felt a surge of anticipation. The system's messages were vague, cryptic, yet he sensed an unmistakable connection to his necromantic abilities. It was as though the magic within him was slumbering, waiting to be fed by death itself.

I need a corpse, he thought grimly. But in a quiet village like this, he knew there was no guarantee of stumbling upon one. He would have to be cautious. He couldn't risk suspicion—at least, not until he'd regained some of his power.

Slipping out of the small hut, he found himself surrounded by the stillness of the village. Elden Hollow was quiet, only the faint glow of dying embers visible in a few windows. He moved silently, blending with the shadows, his gaze fixed on the tree line beyond the houses.

The Darkwood loomed in the distance, the forest a deep, impenetrable black. There was something foreboding about it, something alive and ancient. Alaric could feel it, a pulse of energy that called to him.

As he neared the edge of the village, a voice broke the silence.

"Leaving already?"

Alaric spun around, instinctively stepping back into the shadows. The speaker was a young man with sandy hair, tall and lean, carrying a worn-looking spear. His expression was hard, cautious, but his eyes held a flicker of curiosity.

"You're the one my sister found," the young man said, narrowing his eyes. "Alaric, right? I'm Finn. Lina's brother."

Alaric relaxed, straightening. "Yes. I needed… some air."

Finn glanced at the forest, a look of concern crossing his face. "The Darkwood isn't safe at night. Even in the daylight, we don't go too deep. The forest has its own rules, its own dangers."

Alaric managed a faint smile. "I'll be careful."

"Careful won't be enough." Finn's gaze hardened. "There's something unnatural in there. Shadows that don't belong, creatures that don't show mercy. But if you're set on going, take this." He extended his spear toward Alaric.

Alaric hesitated. It had been centuries since he'd needed a weapon—his magic had always been enough. But now, stripped of that strength, the spear was a practical necessity. He accepted it with a nod.

"Thank you," he said quietly, feeling the weight of the weapon in his hands.

Finn gave a curt nod, his gaze lingering on Alaric. "We'll be watching for you. If you're not back by sunrise… well, let's just say the forest doesn't often give back what it takes."

With that, Finn turned and walked away, leaving Alaric alone at the edge of the Darkwood. Alaric watched him go, feeling a faint spark of respect for the young villager. Finn had warned him, yes, but there was something else—a willingness to help, even if he didn't understand why Alaric felt compelled to venture into the forest.

As soon as Finn disappeared from sight, Alaric plunged into the trees, the dense canopy above casting shadows that swallowed him whole. The air grew colder, the scent of moss and decaying leaves filling his senses. The deeper he went, the stronger the pulsing energy became, a magnetic force drawing him forward.

The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint crunch of leaves beneath his feet. Every instinct told him that he was being watched, that the Darkwood itself was aware of his presence. He gripped the spear tightly, his mind alert.

And then, he saw it—a clearing up ahead, bathed in a faint, eerie light.

He approached cautiously, feeling the air grow colder with every step. In the center of the clearing lay a figure, sprawled on the ground, unmoving. Alaric's pulse quickened as he realized what it was: a body, abandoned and lifeless.

He knelt beside it, examining the corpse. It was a man, middle-aged, dressed in ragged clothes, his face twisted in fear. Strange claw marks covered his body, his skin pale as if drained of life itself. The scene was fresh, the blood still dark against the earth.

Perfect.

Alaric felt a thrill of dark satisfaction as he closed his eyes, reaching deep within himself for the whisper of power that had lain dormant. He concentrated, summoning the knowledge he'd honed in his past life. His hand hovered over the corpse, and he whispered a single word under his breath—a word of summoning, an invocation of the dead.

To his surprise, the system responded.

[Skill Unlocked: Soul Absorption - Basic]

Absorb residual life energy from deceased creatures to regain strength and replenish mana.

[Progress in Quest: Awaken the Power Within - Part I: 10%]

A surge of energy flooded through him, raw and primal. He felt it spread through his limbs, banishing the aches and weakness, restoring a fragment of his lost power. His vision sharpened, his senses heightened, and a familiar clarity settled over him.

He grinned, savoring the sensation. It was only a sliver of what he'd once wielded, but it was enough—a foothold, a beginning.

He rose to his feet, his gaze fixed on the forest around him. The Darkwood was dangerous, yes, but it also held secrets, sources of power that others feared to touch. And in this world, fear was a weapon he intended to wield.

As he turned to leave, something caught his eye—a faint glimmer in the shadows. He crouched down, brushing aside the leaves to reveal a small, rusted amulet, its surface inscribed with strange runes.

The system responded again.

[Item Found: Amulet of the Whispering Shade]

Effect: Enhances perception of lingering spirits and allows limited communication with the dead.

Alaric's fingers tightened around the amulet. This was more than he had hoped for—a relic, no matter how small, that would bolster his abilities. He slipped it around his neck, feeling a faint hum of power resonate against his skin.

The Darkwood had given him its first gift. And he knew there would be more, waiting to be claimed.