The silver-barked trees of the grove loomed above Drakar and Taronis like silent sentinels, their leaves shimmering with hues of emerald and sapphire. The air pulsed with an unnatural hum, almost like the beating of a distant heart. Beneath their feet, the forest floor glowed faintly, its grass speckled with luminescent petals that blinked like stars.
"Where are we?" Drakar asked, his voice low.
Taronis paused, his eyes scanning the grove with quiet reverence. "The Nerathyn Grove. A place older than time itself. This is where the Warden watches."
Drakar's gaze drifted to a clearing ahead, where the grove opened into a circle of stones etched with glowing runes. The runes pulsed in rhythmic waves, their light painting strange patterns on the ground.
Taronis gestured toward the stones. "Your next trial begins here."
Drakar stepped forward, his boots crunching softly against the glowing grass. As he entered the circle, the air thickened, pressing against his skin like an unseen weight. The runes flared with sudden brilliance, and a figure began to take shape at the center of the stones.
It was tall, draped in robes of pure white that shimmered like flowing water. Its face was obscured beneath a silver mask, but its eyes burned like twin suns.
"I am Selanthis, Warden of the Grove," the figure intoned, its voice reverberating through the grove like a deep chime. "To pass, you must withstand the pull of the void."
Drakar's jaw tightened. "What does that mean?"
Selanthis raised a hand, and the ground beneath Drakar's feet began to shimmer. The clearing dissolved into a swirling abyss, vast and endless. The silver-barked trees, the stars above—everything disappeared, leaving only darkness.
The void tugged at Drakar, a relentless force that pulled not at his body but at his very essence.
Rest, it whispered. Surrender. All will be quiet.
Drakar's heart pounded. Images flashed before his eyes—Roghar's sneer, his mother's quiet tears, the unfulfilled promise of his dreams.
His knees buckled under the weight of the void's pull. Is this what failure feels like?
"No!" Drakar's shout echoed into the void. He clenched his fists, forcing his feet to remain planted. "I refuse to break!"
The void pulsed, the whispers turning sharp and mocking. You're weak. You'll never become more than a failure.
Drakar closed his eyes, drawing strength from a memory—the night beneath the stars when he made his vow. He saw himself standing alone, staring up at the endless sky. The world had tried to crush him, but in that moment, he had chosen to rise.
He inhaled slowly, then roared with defiance, driving his foot down as if anchoring himself to reality. The abyss trembled. The pull weakened.
Selanthis watched in silence as Drakar's form steadied.
"You are not easily unraveled," the Warden said, its tone almost respectful. The void around Drakar flickered, then shattered into fragments of light that drifted away like fireflies.
The clearing reformed, the stones glowing faintly once more. Drakar stood tall, his chest heaving, sweat trickling down his face.
Taronis stepped forward, a faint smile touching his lips. "Well done."
Selanthis inclined its head. "You may proceed. But beware—there are greater voids beyond this grove."
Drakar met the Warden's gaze. "Then I'll face them all."
Selanthis's form dissolved into a soft glow, and the grove grew silent once more.
The path beyond the grove led to a starlit meadow where the air felt lighter, almost serene. The flowers glowed softly in the darkness, casting a pale blue light.
Drakar let out a slow breath, his body still recovering from the trial. "How many more of these trials are there?"
"As many as it takes," Taronis replied. "But remember, you've already faced one of the most difficult challenges: yourself."
They walked in silence until they reached the edge of the meadow, where the trees parted to reveal a figure standing alone beneath the sky. The man was tall and lean, clad in worn leather armor. His auburn hair caught the moonlight, and his eyes sparkled with curiosity and mischief.
Taronis raised an eyebrow. "A lone traveler?"
The man's grin was quick and sharp. "And what strange company you keep, Blade Monk."
Drakar's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
The man gave a mock bow. "Kaelen Varis—hunter, guide, and occasional mischief-maker."
"Why are you here?" Drakar asked.
Kaelen straightened, his grin fading. "I'm looking for someone."
Taronis's gaze was unreadable. "Fate rarely leads travelers to these woods without purpose."
Kaelen's grin returned, though it was softer. "Perhaps fate is exactly why I'm here."
Drakar exchanged a glance with Taronis. "Can he be trusted?"
Taronis gave a small nod. "Fate binds paths in unexpected ways. He may walk with us if he has the strength."
Kaelen's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Weakness isn't in my vocabulary."