Kael stood amidst the ash and dust of the slain beast, its remnants already dissolving back into the earth. The air hung heavy with a silence more oppressive than the creature's roar as if the land itself mourned the loss of its emissary. He didn't need the Wanderer's words to know the truth—the wilds were relentless, and their anger was singularly focused on him.
The jagged cliffs loomed around them, casting long shadows in the dim moonlight. The glow of Kael's spear pulsed faintly as if responding to the residual energy of the beast. Each heartbeat of light mirrored the power surging through him, a constant reminder of his connection to the wilds and the responsibility he could no longer deny.
The Wanderer's gaze remained fixed on the horizon, where the fractured landscape stretched endlessly. "This was only the beginning," he said, his tone void of emotion. "The wilds are testing your resolve. They will send more."
Kael didn't respond immediately, his focus drifting to the ground beneath his feet. The earth seemed alive, pulsating faintly, as though it was absorbing the echoes of their battle. He crouched, pressing his palm to the soil. A faint vibration ran through his fingertips, carrying a message he couldn't yet decipher.
"They're not just attacking," Kael murmured, his voice distant. "They're searching."
The Wanderer's expression darkened. "For what?"
"For something they lost," Kael said, standing slowly. His gaze lifted to the horizon, where faint tendrils of mist curled and twisted like specters. "Or something they think I've stolen."
The words hung heavy between them. The Wanderer's lips tightened, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned and began walking, his steps deliberate and unhurried. Kael followed, the weight of the beast's ashes still clinging to him like a shroud.
They moved in silence, the path ahead becoming increasingly alien. The ground shifted beneath their feet, alternating between firm earth and soft, spongy moss that seemed to breathe as they stepped on it. Trees with blackened bark and blood-red leaves towered above them, their twisted branches reaching skyward like skeletal hands.
Hours passed, though time felt meaningless in this distorted realm. The air grew colder, the shadows deeper. Kael's grip on his spear tightened, his senses heightened. The wilds were watching, waiting. He could feel it in every gust of wind, every rustle of leaves.
They reached a clearing, the ground a stark white as though covered in frost. In the center stood a single tree, its trunk carved with intricate patterns that seemed to pulse with an inner light. Kael stopped, his breath catching. The tree radiated power, its energy resonating with his own.
The Wanderer halted beside him, his expression unreadable. "This is it," he said quietly. "The heart of the fracture."
Kael stepped forward, drawn to the tree like a moth to a flame. The patterns carved into its bark seemed to shift as he approached, forming shapes and symbols he couldn't comprehend. His hand reached out instinctively, his fingers brushing against the surface.
A surge of energy shot through him, sending him stumbling back. The ground beneath the tree rippled, and the air filled with a low hum. The patterns on the tree began to glow brighter, the light spreading outward like veins of molten gold.
"Kael!" the Wanderer's voice was sharp, pulling him from his daze. "Step back!"
But it was too late. The light erupted from the tree, enveloping Kael in a blinding brilliance. He felt the wilds surge into him, their energy intertwining with his own. Memories that weren't his flooded his mind—images of ancient battles, of harmony, shattered and a world plunged into chaos.
When the light subsided, Kael was on his knees, his body trembling. The Wanderer stood over him, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.
"What did you see?" he asked.
Kael's voice was barely a whisper. "Everything."