Kai had barely crossed the threshold of the Wildlands before the city's imposing silhouette vanished behind him, swallowed by the mist and the dense, gnarled trees that surrounded him like silent sentinels. The air was thicker here, charged with an energy that prickled along his skin and heightened his senses. This was a realm untouched by Emberhold's order, a place steeped in ancient power that answered only to itself. For the first time, he felt the weight of his journey—he was truly alone, with no allies to guide him and enemies just behind.
The Wildlands had always been a land of stories, whispered between the clans as a place of both promise and peril. Its forests sprawled beyond the imagination, filled with ancient, unknown creatures and guarded by mystical barriers that even the Council feared to cross. Only seasoned warriors ventured here, those ready to test themselves against the power of the land itself. For Kai, a blacksmith untrained in the ways of cultivation, the place was both exhilarating and terrifying.
He didn't need Ashan's warning to know that each step forward carried risk, but there was a pull inside him, an insistent whisper from the blade on his back. The Celestial Blade had quieted since his escape, yet he felt its presence stronger than ever, as though it were in tune with the very forest itself. He wondered if, like Ashan had said, it was calling him to the Silent Mountains, seeking the answers to its mysterious power.
For the next few hours, Kai navigated carefully through the Wildlands, his senses on high alert for any signs of danger. The trees around him twisted in shapes he'd never seen before, their bark laced with veins of silver and their leaves a dark, iridescent green. Now and then, strange sounds echoed in the distance—a low, rumbling growl, the rustle of something large moving through the underbrush. He had no doubt that these creatures were watching him, their instincts sharpened by the wild's relentless survival demands.
He found himself on a narrow path, winding its way up a hillside, and stopped to catch his breath. The exertion of running and fear were wearing on him. As he paused, he heard a faint rustle from the bushes beside him. Turning cautiously, he saw nothing at first, but then a pair of gleaming, amber eyes blinked back at him from the shadows.
He froze, instinctively reaching for the blade at his side.
"Who dares enter the lands of the Wildlings?" a low, guttural voice asked, its tone dripping with authority.
A tall figure emerged from the shadows—a Wildling warrior. His skin was marked with tribal patterns, and he wore armor fashioned from bone and hide, decorated with feathers that gave off a faint, ethereal glow. The Wildling's eyes were fierce, his expression unreadable as he scrutinized Kai with an intensity that felt like fire.
"Just passing through," Kai replied, doing his best to sound calm. He knew of the Wildlings, though only through tales. They were fierce fighters, protective of their lands and suspicious of outsiders.
The warrior laughed, a short, mirthless sound. "Passing through? No one merely passes through the Wildlands, especially not with a Celestial Blade strapped to their back. You're either a fool or a thief. Perhaps both."
Kai gripped the blade's hilt, though he did not draw it. "I didn't steal it. It…chose me."
The Wildling's gaze flickered, and he looked at Kai with newfound interest. "A Celestial Blade does not choose lightly. That weapon carries a history that even you do not understand. Who are you, outsider?"
"My name is Kai," he said, feeling the weight of his name against the warrior's question. "I'm just a blacksmith from Emberhold."
The Wildling raised an eyebrow. "A blacksmith with a Celestial Blade? Do you take me for a fool?" He took a step forward, his own weapon glinting in the faint light filtering through the trees. "Emberhold's Council does not give up their treasures so easily. If they find you, you will be hunted until there is nothing left of you."
Kai looked away, his jaw clenched. "I know. That's why I'm here. I was told to go to the Silent Mountains."
The warrior's expression shifted subtly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "The Silent Mountains… No one ventures there willingly, outsider. Even we, the Wildlings, do not enter their borders without a purpose. The spirits of the ancient ones linger there, fierce and unyielding. The journey alone could destroy you."
"Then why guard the path to them?" Kai asked, his curiosity breaking through his caution.
The warrior's eyes narrowed, and a strange, almost amused glint appeared. "We guard it because it must be guarded. Power seeks power, young blacksmith, and some forces are not meant for any mortal. But…" The warrior stepped back, his intense gaze weighing Kai once more. "If the blade has truly chosen you, then perhaps you are meant to face the mountain's trials. Perhaps you are not entirely a fool."
The warrior turned to go, his footfalls silent as he began to melt back into the shadows. Kai felt a surge of relief, but the warrior paused, glancing over his shoulder with one last warning.
"Be careful, Kai of Emberhold," he said in a low voice. "The Council is not your only enemy. There are those who would kill to wield that blade, and there are secrets within it that even you might not wish to uncover."
With that, the Wildling disappeared, leaving Kai alone once more. A chill ran down his spine as he absorbed the warning. The Council, the mountain's trials, and now the added threat of unknown enemies… the path ahead was fraught with peril.
Shaking off his unease, he continued up the narrow path, determined to reach his destination. But he couldn't ignore the questions swirling in his mind. What secrets lay within the blade? Why had it chosen him, a mere blacksmith? And what exactly waited for him in the Silent Mountains?
As he pondered, the path began to open, leading him to a small clearing at the edge of a cliff. He could see far into the distance now, and for the first time, he glimpsed the towering peaks of the Silent Mountains, shrouded in clouds and mist. The sight was awe-inspiring, yet a shiver of dread twisted in his gut. The mountains were closer now, but he knew reaching them would be only the beginning of his ordeal.
Then, the air around him seemed to thicken, and a presence crept up on him. He turned sharply, instincts screaming, and found himself face-to-face with three cloaked figures. Their hoods obscured their faces, but he could feel their eyes upon him, filled with hostility.
One of them stepped forward, a voice sharp as ice breaking the silence. "Kai of Emberhold, by the authority of the Council, we order you to surrender the blade."
Kai's heart thundered in his chest as he gripped the Celestial Blade tighter. "I can't go back," he said, his voice wavering but resolute. "The blade has chosen me."
The lead figure's voice was cold, unyielding. "That blade does not belong to you. Its power is bound to the Council, and you are merely a thief."
A tense silence stretched between them, and Kai could feel the weight of their stares. He knew these were no ordinary guards—they were Council enforcers, elite cultivators sent to retrieve powerful artifacts at any cost. He'd heard stories of their abilities, their ruthless efficiency, and their unwavering loyalty to the Council's laws.
"I'm not giving it to you," Kai said, the words sounding braver than he felt. He had no chance against them in a fight, but something inside him refused to yield. If he surrendered now, everything he'd endured, every risk he'd taken, would be for nothing.
The enforcer's hand drifted toward his sword. "Then we'll take it by force."
Before Kai could react, the enforcers lunged, their movements swift and precise, cutting through the space between them like shadows. Kai barely had time to draw his blade, the Celestial Blade's light bursting forth as he swung to deflect the first strike. The clash of steel echoed through the forest, and Kai staggered back, struggling to hold his ground.
The other two enforcers closed in, their attacks relentless and coordinated, forcing Kai onto the defensive. Every swing, every step, tested his limits. His arms ached, his breaths came short and ragged, but he held on, driven by sheer willpower and the blade's pulsing energy guiding him.
Suddenly, a searing pain shot through his side as one of the enforcers landed a blow, knocking him to his knees. He gritted his teeth, clutching the blade as he struggled to rise.
The lead enforcer raised his weapon, his voice cold as death. "This is your end, blacksmith."
Kai's vision blurred, his strength fading. But as he braced for the final blow, a fierce cry echoed from the trees. A figure—a Wildling warrior—burst into the clearing, hurling himself at the enforcers with savage intensity.
It was the same warrior from before, his eyes blazing with fury. He fought with wild grace, his movements fluid and deadly, driving the enforcers back with surprising ease. The enforcers, caught off guard, shifted their focus to the new threat, giving Kai a precious moment to breathe.
"Kai!" the Wildling shouted, his voice a sharp command. "Run! They won