The sun sank low on the horizon, casting golden light across the Shimmering Forest. Its legendary trees—tall and ancient, with silver-veined bark—seemed to drink in the waning light, their leaves glowing faintly like embers. Arien Valcrest adjusted the straps of her pack, her eyes darting between the shadowy depths of the forest and the faded map in her hand.
"This must be it," she muttered to herself, tucking the map into her belt. Her voice sounded unnaturally loud in the stillness.
The forest was a forbidden place, one whispered about in taverns and written of in faded tomes. Stories of the Shimmering Forest ranged from awe-inspiring to horrifying: tales of wandering souls trapped for eternity, of fae creatures with smiles too sharp, and of treasures beyond imagination. It was that last story that had brought Arien here, despite the warnings and the price on her head back in Eldara.
At twenty-two, Arien had long outgrown fairy tales, but desperation had a way of rekindling belief. Her younger brother, Callen, lay in a healer's tent, his life slipping away with each passing hour. No potion or spell could cure him; only an ancient relic known as the Tear of Elenor was said to have the power to heal such afflictions. And according to every source she had scoured, that relic lay somewhere within the heart of the Shimmering Forest.
She tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword—a family heirloom more decorative than functional—and took her first step past the threshold. The air immediately shifted. It felt heavier, humming with an energy that made the fine hairs on her arms stand on end. She glanced over her shoulder one last time at the ordinary world she was leaving behind, then pressed forward.
The forest was eerily quiet. No birdsong, no rustling of small creatures. Only the sound of her boots crunching against the mossy ground accompanied her. The path ahead twisted and turned, its edges swallowed by thick underbrush. Every now and then, she caught glimpses of movement in her periphery—shadows that darted too quickly to be natural.
"Focus, Arien," she whispered. She had prepared for this, or at least, as much as one could prepare to enter a place woven with myth.
After an hour of walking, she reached a clearing dominated by an ancient tree, its roots gnarled and exposed like the twisted hands of an elder. Hanging from its branches were dozens of crystalline orbs, each glowing faintly. They reminded her of fireflies trapped in glass. She approached cautiously, her instincts warning her to stay back.
"You're not from here."
The voice was soft and melodic, yet it carried an unmistakable edge of danger. Arien spun, drawing her sword in one fluid motion. Standing behind her was a figure cloaked in shadows, their face obscured by a hood. Only their eyes were visible—glowing faintly like the orbs above.
"No," Arien said, her voice steady despite the hammering of her heart. "I'm here for the Tear of Elenor."
The figure tilted their head, a gesture that seemed almost curious. "A relic of immense power. Do you even know what you seek?"
"I know it can save my brother."
"Ah," the figure said, their tone softening. "A noble cause. But noble intentions do not protect one from the forest's price."
"Price?"
The figure stepped closer, their movements fluid, almost otherworldly. "The Shimmering Forest does not give without taking. If you wish to find the Tear, you must prove yourself. And even then, you may not like what you discover."
Arien gritted her teeth. "I'll do whatever it takes."
The figure chuckled, a sound like wind through chimes. "Bold. Foolish, but bold." They raised a hand, and the orbs hanging from the tree began to glow brighter, their light illuminating the clearing. "Follow the path of light. It will lead you to the first trial. But beware, traveler—this forest sees into your soul. It knows your fears, your weaknesses."
Before Arien could respond, the figure vanished, melting into the shadows. She exhaled sharply, the tension in her shoulders refusing to ease.
"Just a trial," she muttered, trying to steel her resolve. She turned her gaze to the path of glowing orbs that had appeared, winding deeper into the forest.
With her sword in hand, she began to follow.
The path was treacherous, narrowing in places and forcing her to squeeze between jagged rocks. The glowing orbs pulsed softly, casting long shadows that danced and flickered. After what felt like hours, she emerged into another clearing. This one was dominated by a pool of water so still it mirrored the sky above.
On the far side of the pool stood a pedestal, and atop it rested a silver key.
"Easy enough," Arien said, though doubt lingered in her mind.
She approached the water cautiously, every sense on high alert. As she reached the edge, the reflection in the pool shifted. It was no longer the sky she saw, but her own face—her eyes wide with fear. Behind her reflection loomed a monstrous figure, its eyes glowing with the same faint light as the orbs.
She spun around, her sword ready, but the clearing was empty.
"Your fears," a voice whispered, the same melodic tone as the figure from before. "Face them, or fail."
Before she could respond, the water erupted. A creature rose from its depths, its form shifting and indistinct. It was like smoke and shadow given shape, its eyes burning with pale light.
Arien stumbled back, her sword shaking in her grip. The creature lunged, its movements impossibly fast. She barely managed to parry, the force of the blow sending her sprawling.
Get up! she screamed at herself, forcing her trembling limbs to obey.
The creature lunged again, and this time she dodged, rolling to the side and slashing wildly. Her blade connected, but it passed through the creature as if it were made of mist.
Think, Arien. You can't fight it like this.
The creature circled her, its glowing eyes locking onto hers. It seemed to grow larger, its form becoming more solid. She realized with a jolt that it was feeding off her fear, growing stronger with every passing moment.
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to take deep, steady breaths. Her father's voice echoed in her mind, a memory from years ago: "Fear is the mind's greatest enemy, Arien. Face it, or it will consume you."
When she opened her eyes, the creature was inches away, its maw opening to reveal rows of jagged teeth.
"No," she said firmly, planting her feet. "You're not real."
The creature hesitated, its form flickering.
"You're nothing but a shadow," Arien continued, her voice growing stronger. "And you have no power over me."
The creature let out a piercing shriek, its body dissolving into wisps of smoke. Within moments, the clearing was still once more.
Arien exhaled, her legs nearly giving out beneath her. She made her way to the pedestal and grabbed the silver key.
"One trial down," she said, pocketing the key. "How many more to go?"
The glowing orbs reappeared, marking a new path. With renewed determination, Arien followed, the forest closing in around her once more.
Little did she know, the trials ahead would test not just her courage, but the very fabric of who she was—and what she was willing to sacrifice.
The glowing orbs guided Arien deeper into the forest, their light flickering like a heartbeat. With every step, the air grew heavier, carrying with it a faint hum that resonated in her chest. The forest seemed alive, watching her with unseen eyes.
The silver key felt warm in her pocket, as if it were a living thing. She couldn't shake the feeling that it was more than just a simple artifact. Perhaps it was linked to the trials—or to the Tear of Elenor itself.
Ahead, the path widened into another clearing. This one was darker than the last, shrouded by a thick, swirling mist that clung to the ground like a living entity. In the center of the clearing stood a stone archway, its surface etched with glowing runes. The mist seemed to pour out from the archway, spilling into the clearing like smoke from a fire.
Arien approached cautiously, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. The air here was different—cold and damp, with a metallic tang that stung her nostrils. As she drew closer, the runes on the archway flared brighter, and the mist began to shift, taking on shapes and forms.
Faces emerged from the mist, their features pale and indistinct. They whispered in low, mournful tones, their voices weaving together into a haunting melody.
"Turn back," one voice said, soft and pleading.
"You cannot pass," another warned, its tone filled with sorrow.
Arien swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. "I don't have a choice," she said aloud, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound resolute. "I need to find the Tear of Elenor."
The faces in the mist stilled for a moment, their whispers fading into silence. Then, one by one, they turned toward her, their hollow eyes fixing on her with unnerving intensity.
"To pass through the Veil," they intoned in unison, their voices echoing like a chorus, "you must surrender what you hold most dear."
Arien stiffened, her hand tightening on the hilt of her sword. "What do you mean?"
The faces swirled together, forming a single, towering visage that loomed over her. Its eyes glowed faintly, and its mouth twisted into a sorrowful smile. "The Veil demands a price," it said. "A piece of your soul, a fragment of your heart. Only then may you pass."
Arien's mind raced. A part of her wanted to turn back, to flee this cursed place and forget about the Tear of Elenor. But the memory of Callen's pale, fevered face burned in her mind. She couldn't fail him—not now.
"Take what you must," she said, her voice steady despite the fear clawing at her chest. "I'll pay the price."
The mist surged forward, enveloping her in its cold embrace. She gasped as a sharp pain pierced her chest, as though a piece of her very essence was being ripped away. Memories flashed before her eyes: her mother's laughter, the warmth of the sun on her face, the feeling of safety in her father's arms.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the pain was gone. The mist retreated, leaving her gasping for air.
"You have paid the price," the voice said, softer now. "The Veil shall open for you."
The runes on the archway flared brighter, and the mist parted, revealing a new path beyond. Arien staggered forward, her legs trembling beneath her. She felt… lighter, somehow, as if a part of her had been stripped away.
But there was no time to dwell on what she had lost. She had passed the trial, and the Tear of Elenor was one step closer.
---
The path beyond the Veil was unlike anything Arien had seen before. The trees here were impossibly tall, their trunks glowing faintly with a soft, inner light. Strange plants with bioluminescent flowers lined the path, their petals pulsing gently like living things.
She pressed onward, her footsteps echoing in the unnatural stillness. The forest seemed to hum with energy, as if it were alive and aware of her presence.
After what felt like hours, the path ended at the edge of a massive chasm. A narrow stone bridge spanned the gap, its surface cracked and worn with age. Beyond the bridge lay a towering structure—a cathedral of stone and crystal, its spires reaching toward the heavens.
The sight took Arien's breath away. This had to be it. The Tear of Elenor was inside.
As she stepped onto the bridge, the air grew colder, and a deep, guttural growl echoed from the shadows. She froze, her heart leaping into her throat.
From the darkness emerged a massive creature, its body covered in scales that shimmered like black glass. Its eyes burned with pale light, and its maw was lined with jagged teeth.
Arien drew her sword, her hands trembling. "I don't have time for this," she muttered, forcing herself to stand her ground.
The creature snarled, its massive claws scraping against the stone as it advanced. It moved with the predatory grace of a predator stalking its prey, its gaze fixed on her.
Arien tightened her grip on her sword. If she was going to survive, she would have to fight—and win.
Chapter Two Continued: The Whispering Veil
Arien steadied her breathing, her knuckles whitening around the hilt of her sword. The beast before her was unlike anything she had faced. Standing nearly twice her height, its dark, shimmering scales reflected faint light like a living obsidian mirror. Muscles rippled beneath its hide as it crouched low, preparing to strike.
"I don't have time for this," she muttered again, her voice betraying her fear. But there was no way around it—the bridge was narrow, and the creature blocked her only path forward.
The beast roared, the sound reverberating through the chasm like thunder. It charged, its claws scraping against the stone bridge as it barreled toward her.
Arien waited until the last possible moment before sidestepping, swinging her blade in a wide arc. The edge of her sword struck the creature's side, but the blade glanced off its scales with a metallic clang.
"Damn it!" she hissed, stumbling backward.
The creature spun with alarming speed, its tail sweeping out like a whip. Arien barely managed to duck, the wind from the strike ruffling her hair. She scrambled to her feet, retreating to gain distance.
Think, Arien. You can't brute-force your way through this.
The creature prowled closer, its glowing eyes narrowing as if it could sense her uncertainty. It lunged again, and this time she darted forward, rolling beneath its claws. Rising to her feet, she swung her blade once more, aiming for its neck.
This time, her sword struck true. The creature let out an ear-splitting screech as a thin line of black ichor seeped from the wound. It wasn't a fatal blow, but it was enough to make the beast hesitate.
"Not so invincible after all," she said under her breath.
The creature roared in fury, its eyes blazing brighter. It lashed out with its claws, forcing her to dive to the side. She landed hard, the impact jarring her shoulder. Gritting her teeth, she scrambled to her feet, every muscle in her body screaming in protest.
As the beast prepared for another charge, Arien's gaze flicked to the stone bridge beneath her feet. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, and chunks of stone crumbled into the abyss below. An idea began to form in her mind—reckless, dangerous, but it might just work.
She sheathed her sword and took a deep breath. "Come on, then," she called, backing toward the center of the bridge. "Let's see what you've got!"
The creature snarled, its massive form tensing like a coiled spring. Then it charged, claws tearing into the stone as it thundered toward her.
Arien waited until it was almost upon her before diving to the side. The beast's momentum carried it forward, and its claws sank into the already fractured bridge. The stone gave way with a deafening crack, and the creature let out a roar of rage as it plunged into the chasm below.
Arien scrambled to her feet, peering over the edge. The beast disappeared into the darkness, its roars fading into silence. She exhaled shakily, her heart pounding in her chest.
"That was too close," she muttered, brushing dust from her tunic.
The bridge creaked ominously, and she realized with a jolt that the structure was far from stable. Wasting no time, she sprinted across the remaining length, her boots skidding on the uneven surface.
She reached the other side just as the bridge collapsed entirely, sending a cascade of stone into the abyss. Arien leaned against the edge, catching her breath. Her hands shook, but relief flooded through her.
The towering cathedral loomed before her, its spires reaching impossibly high into the sky. The structure seemed to hum with energy, its crystalline walls glowing faintly in the dim light. This was it—the heart of the Shimmering Forest, where the Tear of Elenor awaited.
Straightening, she approached the massive double doors at the cathedral's entrance. They were carved from a strange, iridescent stone, etched with intricate runes that pulsed faintly. As she reached out to push them open, the runes flared brighter, and a voice echoed in her mind.
"You who seek the Tear, enter with resolve. But beware—for the truths within may shatter more than you know."
Arien hesitated, the weight of the warning pressing down on her. But she had come too far to turn back now. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the doors open.
The interior of the cathedral was vast and otherworldly, its walls lined with towering columns of crystal. Light refracted through the structure, casting rainbows that danced across the floor. At the far end of the hall, on a raised dais, rested a pedestal. And atop it sat a small, glowing object—the Tear of Elenor.
Arien's breath caught in her throat. She had found it.
She crossed the hall cautiously, her footsteps echoing in the silence. As she approached the pedestal, a soft, melodic voice filled the air.
"You have come far, traveler."
Arien froze, her hand hovering inches from the Tear. The voice seemed to emanate from the very walls of the cathedral.
"Who's there?" she demanded, her eyes scanning the hall.
A figure materialized before the pedestal, its form shimmering like a mirage. It was a woman, her features impossibly perfect, her eyes glowing with the same faint light as the Tear.
"I am the Guardian," the figure said, her voice gentle yet commanding. "The Tear is not something to be taken lightly."
"I don't care," Arien said, stepping forward. "I need it to save my brother."
The Guardian tilted her head, a faint smile playing on her lips. "And what will you sacrifice for it? The Tear's power comes at a cost."
"I've already sacrificed enough," Arien snapped. "The forest took a piece of me back at the Veil. Isn't that enough?"
The Guardian's smile faded. "The forest tests your resolve, but the Tear demands more. Its power is not freely given. To claim it, you must give up the one thing you hold most dear."
Arien's chest tightened. "What does that mean?"
The Guardian's gaze softened. "The Tear grants life, but it also takes. If you wish to save your brother, you must be prepared to lose a part of yourself forever. Do you accept this price?"
Arien's heart pounded as the weight of the decision pressed down on her. She thought of Callen—his laughter, his stubborn determination, the way he had always believed in her.
If saving him meant losing a part of herself, could she do it?
The Guardian waited silently, her glowing eyes unwavering.
After a long moment, Arien stepped forward and placed her hand on the Tear.
"I accept."
The Tear flared with light, enveloping her in a blinding glow.