The forest was alive with whispers, a constant undercurrent of movement and sound that made Kael's every step deliberate. The faint pulse of the rune within him served as a compass, though to what, he couldn't yet say. It was subtle but persistent, like the beat of a distant drum just beyond the edge of hearing.
Kael's body still thrummed with the lingering energy of his transformation. Every muscle felt taut, his senses sharper than he'd ever experienced. It was as if the very fabric of the forest had opened itself to him. He could feel the life around him—not just see or hear it, but sense it.
The gnarled roots beneath his feet pulsed faintly with energy. The leaves whispered secrets as they swayed in the breeze. Even the shadows seemed to carry weight, their depths holding more than just darkness.
Yet, despite the newfound connection, Kael's mind remained grounded in reality. Whatever power he had absorbed, it was a tool, not a blessing. And tools, he knew, were only as useful as the hand that wielded them.
He paused by a shallow stream, kneeling to drink. The water was cold, refreshing against his parched throat. As he cupped his hands for another sip, his reflection caught his eye.
Kael frowned. His face was the same, yet… different. The hard lines of survival were still there, but something else now lingered in his gaze—a flicker of power, of something ancient and untamed.
He touched his chest where the rune had fused with him, half-expecting to feel it pulsing beneath his skin. There was no scar, no mark of any kind. But its presence was undeniable.
What have you done to me? he thought, staring at his reflection.
There was no answer, only the faint hum of the rune deep within. It wasn't painful—if anything, it felt reassuring, like a fire burning steadily in the hearth of his soul. But Kael couldn't shake the feeling that it came with a cost.
His lips curled into a dark smile. "If there's a price to pay," he muttered, "then I'll make sure it's worth it."
The forest was not kind. Its beauty masked the dangers lurking within—predators that moved like shadows, their eyes glinting with hunger. Kael had already encountered several smaller creatures, their bodies twisted in ways that defied nature.
He crouched low, his spear gripped tightly as he scanned his surroundings. The faint rustle of leaves betrayed movement to his right.
Kael didn't wait. He spun, his spear striking out with precision. The tip pierced flesh, and a guttural screech filled the air. The creature—a wiry, six-limbed thing with too many eyes—collapsed, twitching as blood pooled beneath it.
Kael straightened, pulling his spear free. He studied the corpse with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.
"What are you?" he murmured.
The creature was unlike anything in Roran's memories. Its anatomy was alien, its claws unnaturally sharp, its skin tough and leathery.
Kael frowned. Had these beasts always roamed the forest, or had the altar's arrival drawn them here? The thought was unsettling.
"Doesn't matter," he muttered, stepping over the body. "I'll kill whatever gets in my way."
As night fell, Kael found himself drawn back to the clearing where the altar had appeared. The memory of its impossible presence lingered in his mind, a question that demanded answers.
When he arrived, the sight made him pause.
The clearing was untouched. The grass was unbroken, the air still. There was no sign of the altar, no trace of its existence. Even the faint hum of energy he'd felt earlier was gone.
Kael knelt, running his hand over the ground where the altar had floated. It was cool and undisturbed, as if nothing had ever been there.
"It's like it never existed," he said aloud, his voice carrying in the silence.
But Kael knew better. The rune within him was proof. Whatever the altar had been, it had left something behind—something that was now a part of him.
His hand clenched into a fist. "Fine," he said, standing. "If it doesn't want to be found, I'll figure it out on my own."
The night was colder than Kael expected. He found a hollow beneath a large tree and settled in, his spear resting within arm's reach. The forest's usual symphony of rustling leaves and distant calls was absent, replaced by an eerie stillness.
Kael didn't sleep easily. His mind churned, replaying the events of the day. The altar, the rune, the creatures stalking him—it all felt connected, though the pieces didn't yet fit.
And then there was the hunger.
Kael pressed a hand to his stomach, frowning. It wasn't a physical hunger, though he hadn't eaten since midday. It was deeper, a gnawing sensation that seemed to come from within.
The rune pulsed faintly, as if in response.
"What do you want from me?" Kael whispered, his voice sharp.
The rune offered no answer, only the steady beat of its energy.
Kael clenched his jaw. Whatever the rune had given him, it wasn't free. But that didn't bother him. He'd survived too long on scraps and sacrifice to fear a debt he didn't understand.
"I'll figure it out," he said, his voice low. "I always do."
Kael woke to an unnatural silence. The forest was still, the usual sounds of life absent. He climbed to his feet, his body tense as he scanned his surroundings.
Something was wrong.
As he looked up at the sky, his breath caught.
The stars were gone.
The void above stretched endlessly, an expanse of pure blackness. There was no moon, no constellations—only a vast, infinite abyss.
Kael's grip tightened on his spear. "What is this?"
A whisper brushed against his mind, faint and fleeting.
"The void watches."
Kael turned sharply, his eyes searching for the source of the voice. But there was no one there.
The whisper came again, louder this time.
"The void remembers."
Kael's heart raced, though not from fear. He didn't fear the unknown—he thrived in it. But the implications were unsettling.
The altar hadn't just been a construct. It was tied to something far greater, something that now had its gaze fixed on him.
"Good," Kael said aloud, his voice steady. "Let it watch. I'll show it what I can do."
The void above shimmered faintly, a ripple of light dancing across its surface. For a moment, Kael thought he saw something—a glimpse of movement, distant and fleeting.
Then the stars returned, one by one, until the sky was whole again.
Kael lowered his spear, his expression unreadable.
As the first light of dawn pierced the trees, Kael set off again. The forest felt different now—not as an enemy, but as a challenge.
The rune pulsed faintly, a silent reminder of the power waiting to be unlocked. Kael didn't know how to wield it yet, but he was certain of one thing: this was only the beginning.
With every step, his resolve grew stronger. He wasn't just surviving anymore; he was preparing.
For what, he didn't yet know.
But he would be ready.