The golden light of dawn filtered through the trees, painting the forest in hues of orange and gold. Ethan leaned against a tree, exhausted, as Lyra paced nearby, keeping a vigilant eye on their surroundings. The weight of everything they'd been through sat heavily on his shoulders.
"Lyra," Ethan said, breaking the silence. "How am I supposed to control something I barely understand?"
She stopped pacing and turned to him. "You don't have a choice. You saw what happened back there. Your system reacts instinctively, and that makes it unpredictable. If you can't control it, it'll get us killed—or worse, it'll get us caught."
Ethan sighed, running a hand through his messy, medium-length brown hair. His emerald green eyes met hers, frustration simmering beneath their vibrant glow. "I get that, but where do I even start? There's no manual for this kind of thing."
"There's no manual," Lyra agreed, "but there are ways. Your system is tied to the world around you—it's why those vines react the way they do. The more you understand how it connects, the more control you'll have."
Ethan frowned. "You say that like it's easy."
"It's not," Lyra said, sitting down across from him. She pulled a small map from her bag and unrolled it. "But there's a place not far from here that might help."
Ethan leaned forward, eyeing the map. Lyra pointed to a symbol etched near the edge of a large forest.
"This is the Whispering Grove," she explained. "It's said to be one of the most ancient places in this realm, full of natural magic. If anywhere can help you understand your system, it's there."
"Sounds like a nice place for a picnic," Ethan said dryly. "What's the catch?"
Lyra smirked. "The grove is alive, Ethan. It doesn't welcome visitors lightly. And if you're not careful, it might not let you leave."
"Of course," Ethan muttered, shaking his head. "Nothing's ever simple."
As they prepared to move, Ethan glanced down at his gloves. They were in worse shape than he'd realized—torn and scorched from the earlier fight. He pulled them off, revealing faint green lines glowing across his palms, like veins of raw power.
"Those won't hide you anymore," Lyra said, noticing his hesitation.
Ethan clenched his fists. "Then what do I do? Wrap my hands in cloth and hope no one notices the glowing?"
"Actually, yes," Lyra said. She rummaged through her pack and pulled out a roll of dark fabric. "Here. It won't stop the glow completely, but it'll dull it enough to avoid drawing attention."
Ethan took the fabric and began wrapping his hands. "Thanks. But this is just a Band-Aid. I need to figure out how to turn it off."
Lyra nodded. "That's why we're going to the grove."
The journey to the Whispering Grove was tense but uneventful. The forest grew denser as they walked, the air heavy with the scent of moss and damp earth. Ethan could feel the weight of the Core in Lyra's bag, its dark energy pulsing faintly in the back of his mind.
"How are you carrying that thing without it affecting you?" Ethan asked, breaking the silence.
Lyra shrugged. "I've had practice. Marek trained me to resist magical interference. But even with that, it's… unpleasant."
"Unpleasant how?"
Lyra hesitated. "It whispers," she admitted. "Nothing coherent, just… feelings. Anger, hunger, power. It wants to be used."
Ethan shivered. "Sounds lovely."
"Don't worry," Lyra said. "It's not going anywhere. The more we understand it, the better chance we have of using it against Rhovan."
By the time they reached the grove, the sun was high in the sky. The dense forest gave way to an open glade, the air alive with the hum of magic. Massive trees with shimmering leaves surrounded the area, their trunks etched with glowing runes.
Ethan stopped in his tracks, his breath catching. "This place…"
Lyra nodded. "The Whispering Grove. It's said to be older than the realm itself."
As Ethan stepped into the glade, he felt a strange sensation wash over him. The Overgrowth System reacted instantly, the green glow in his eyes intensifying. The vines on his staff coiled tightly, as if aware of the grove's power.
"It feels… alive," Ethan said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"It is," Lyra replied. She gestured to the center of the glade, where a pool of crystal-clear water shimmered. "That's where you'll start. The grove tests everyone who enters. If you're worthy, it'll help you. If not…"
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "If not?"
"You don't want to find out."
Ethan approached the pool cautiously, his staff glowing faintly in his hand. The water was so clear he could see the bottom, where strange, glowing roots twisted and writhed like living things.
As he knelt by the edge, the air around him grew heavy. A voice—soft and distant—echoed in his mind.
"Why do you seek our power?"
Ethan froze, glancing back at Lyra. She stood at the edge of the glade, watching silently.
"I… I need to understand my system," Ethan said aloud, his voice trembling. "I need control. Without it, people will get hurt."
The voice was silent for a moment, then spoke again.
"You seek control… but at what cost?"
Ethan hesitated. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I'll do whatever it takes to protect the people who matter."
The air around him shimmered, and the water began to ripple. The glowing roots at the bottom of the pool rose, twisting toward him like searching fingers. Ethan's pulse quickened, but he held his ground.
"Prove your resolve," the voice said.
Before Ethan could react, the roots shot out of the water, wrapping around his arms and pulling him in. Lyra's shout echoed behind him, but it was quickly drowned out as the world went dark.
Ethan opened his eyes to find himself standing in a vast, endless field of green. The sky above was a swirling mix of gold and emerald, and the air hummed with magic.
A figure stood before him, its form shifting like smoke. Its eyes glowed green, mirroring his own.
"Who are you?" Ethan asked, gripping his staff.
The figure tilted its head. "I am the Overgrowth System," it said. "And you are its bearer. Let us see if you are worthy."
The ground beneath Ethan's feet trembled, and from it emerged massive vines, each one covered in razor-sharp thorns. They lashed toward him, and he barely managed to raise his staff in time to block.
The test had begun.