The morning air was crisp, the golden rays of the sun barely piercing through the thick canopy of the surrounding trees. Eryndor stood in a small clearing, his body aching from the previous day's events. Across from him, Eldrin watched silently, his piercing gaze filled with something between curiosity and concern.
"Your power… It's unlike anything I've ever seen." The old man exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around the wooden staff he always carried. "And that makes it dangerous."
Eryndor clenched his fists, the memories of the night before still fresh—how the black aura had surged from within him, how it had almost consumed him. "I don't even know how I did it," he admitted.
"That's the problem." Eldrin's voice was sharp. "Power you don't control will control you instead."
Eldrin took a step forward and tapped the ground with his staff. A faint glow of blue energy rippled through the soil, forming a pattern of ancient symbols.
"This world is built upon laws of magic. Mana, Aether, even the forbidden Nether energy… they all have rules," Eldrin continued. "But what you did? That wasn't any known form of magic."
Eryndor swallowed hard. Not any known form of magic?
Before he could ask more, Eldrin gestured for him to stand ready. "Enough talking. If you want to survive, you need control. Show me what you can do."
---
A Silent Watcher
As Eryndor began his training, he felt something. A slight shift in the air, like someone watching him.
He turned sharply, eyes scanning the dense forest beyond the clearing.
Nothing.
Yet, deep in the shadows, a figure stood. Golden eyes gleamed from the darkness, observing him with unsettling interest.
"So… he really has returned," a voice whispered. The figure's presence was light, almost non-existent, but its aura was undeniable.
A second voice responded, laced with amusement. "The lost one walks again. How long until they come for him?"
The golden-eyed figure smiled. "Not long."
And with that, they disappeared—leaving behind only the faint rustle of leaves in the wind.
---
A Warning Left Unheard
Eryndor trained until exhaustion forced him to his knees. Sweat dripped from his brow, but he could feel something shifting inside him—a step toward understanding his power.
Eldrin frowned, sensing something off. He turned toward the treeline, but whatever presence had been there was already gone.
For a brief moment, his face darkened.
"Eryndor," he said, voice heavy. "Listen carefully."
Eryndor looked up, chest rising and falling.
"If you truly don't know what you are, then you must be even more cautious." Eldrin's grip tightened on his staff. "Because someone else does."
---
End of chapter 5