đź“– Ashes of the Forgotten Star
Chapter 10 – Expedition Into the Whispering Woods
Dawn broke with an eerie stillness over Veltheim Academy. The usual bustle of students—footsteps echoing against cobblestones, laughter ringing through archways, the distant clang of morning drills—was muted by the sense of purpose that gripped every Novitiate. Today was our first field expedition: a sanctioned journey into the Whispering Woods, an enchanted stretch at the edge of the campus where mana-fiends and drifting spirits lurked among ruins of a long-lost civilization.
I met Master Cyrian before the gates, his silver hair catching the early sun. He wore lighter robes for mobility, and a belt laden with leather pouches. When he saw me, his eyes were sharp yet kind.
"Ready for your first real test?" he asked, voice low. "Out there, only the elements and your wits will speak for you."
I nodded, adjusting my cloak. The Aetherius fragment at my throat pulsed with a measured glow—no longer raw but tempered by last night's trial. "I'm ready."
Behind us, a group of eight Novitiates assembled: Vera, bright-eyed and eager; Kaelon, arms crossed with mock indifference; two Runic Integration specialists—sisters from House Merion—conferring over a mana detector; and three scouts from Serin's unit, each carrying light weaponry and scouting maps. They formed a semicircle around Cyrian.
He unfurled a tattered parchment. "Our objective is simple: venture ten miles into the woods, locate the Emerald Pillar, an ancient standing stone said to enhance water affinity, and return with a sample of its aura. Along the path, you'll face wild mana creatures and terrain tests. Work in pairs. No lone wolves."
Students muttered—some excited, some anxious. Cyrian's gaze settled on me. "You'll lead this team, Lioren. Vera at your side. The rest will follow your direction."
Heat rose in my cheeks. Leadership was new territory, but I squared my shoulders. "Understood."
Into the Emerald Canopy
The academy gates swung open onto a wide dirt road flanked by towering oaks whose boughs intertwine far above, filtering sunlight into mottled patterns. A faint blue mist clung to the forest floor. Mana hung in the air—thick and sweet—like the breath of something alive.
Kaelon jogged to catch up. "Look at you, playing commander." He shot me a sideways grin. "Try not to get us all eaten by mana wolves, okay?"
I only smiled. "Keep your light magic ready. They hate bright flames."
Beside me, Vera adjusted her satchel of hollowed reeds. "I've loaded water ampoules. If things go south, I can flood us out of a nest."
I nodded. "Good thinking."
The scouts fanned out, scanning the trees. One tapped a rune on his palm—an Earth-sense spell. "Nothing yet," he reported. "But I feel tremors farther in—like something huge moving."
I set a steady pace. "Stay alert. If it's a mana-beast, we engage only if necessary."
Branches shifted. A low growl rumbled through the undergrowth. The scouts crouched, readying short spears. We moved as one. A pair of luminescent eyes blinked at us—a Glade Wolf, its fur iridescent with mana-charged swirls. It snarled, hackles raised.
The beast charged. Vera darted forward, launching a water whorl around its paws to slow it. I summoned a sphere of wind to funnel around its legs, unbalancing it. Kaelon threw a small fireburst, and the wolf yelped, retreating into the trees.
"Nonlethal," I reminded the group. "We're here to study, not slaughter."
The scouts nodded, lowering their spears. The wolf's fur shimmered one last time before it melted into the thicket, leaving only claw marks on bark.
Vera knelt to examine the ground. "Mana residue is high here. Our path is correct."
2. Ruins of the Moon-Whisper Temple
Two hours later, we found the first sign: moss-covered stone blocks half-buried in roots. Carved moon runes glowed faintly. Master Cyrian had spoken of these ruins of the Moon-Whisper Temple, once a sister site to the Bastion beneath Veltheim.
I brushed away lichen to reveal an inscription:
"Blessed be those who walk between tides of mana, for they shape the world unseen."
Vera traced the characters. "This place was devoted to water magic—teaching harmony with the current."
"Scan for danger," I said to the scouts. They mapped the perimeter with earth-sensing runes. One pointed ahead. "Large chamber two hundred paces in. Traces of elemental binding spells—possibly warded."
We advanced into a collapsed corridor. Sunlight filtered through cracks in the ceiling, illuminating motes that drifted like motes of silver dust. An archway opened onto a great hall where a broken fountain still held water that shimmered with latent magic.
A voice echoed:
"You trespass where ancestors slept."
The group froze. I stepped forward. "We seek only the Emerald Pillar beyond. We mean no harm."
From the shadows emerged a tall figure in deep green robes, carrying a staff tipped with an opal orb. Her eyes were calm but piercing. I recognized her from the archives: Instructor Myrienne, head of Hydromancy.
She surveyed us. "A dangerous path for novices."
I inclined my head respectfully. "We have permission from Master Cyrian."
She nodded. "Then I will guide you through—briefly. But know this: the Pillar tests intent."
With Myrienne leading, we pressed deeper until we reached a vaulted chamber. Tall as two-story halls, its walls were engraved with waves and tides. At its center stood the Emerald Pillar—a five-meter-high column of pure green crystal, veins of silver running through it, faint ripples moving along its surface like water.
The air thrummed. I felt the Pillar's mana resonance: water affinity, pure and vast. Vera's eyes lit up; the scouts fell silent in awe; Kaelon stared, expression unreadable.
Myrienne stepped to the base and laid her staff against the stone. "The Pillar grants a boon—but only to the worthy. To claim it, you must surrender a piece of your will. Decide what you hold most dear, then offer it."
A hush followed. I knew what I had to do—but the choice stung.
One by one, my team approached. Vera lay her hands on the Pillar's flank. A mote of light rose from her palm, forming a water droplet that vanished into the crystal. Her eyes glowed azure for a moment—then she stepped back, breathless, yet smiling. Her water affinity had deepened; I could see the glow around her aura.
Kaelon came next. He hesitated, then offered a single ember of pure flame into the Pillar's base. A corona of light burst around him; his fire affinity harmonized with the ambient mana. He, too, transformed.
When it was my turn, my pulse roared. The moment I touched the crystal, it vibrated under my palm—resonating with lightning, wind, water, and shadow. My fragment blazed blue-white, matching its glow.
Myrienne's voice was calm. "Offer what you cherish most—and the Pillar shall make you more."
I closed my eyes. I saw the faces of my mother and sister far away, the village I'd lost, the promise I made. But above all, I saw the Circle's hidden path, the duty that weighed on my soul.
I pressed my fragment against the Pillar's green surface and whispered, "I give my solitude. I embrace the bonds I share."
Light flared. The entire chamber shuddered as ribbons of emerald energy wound around me, then sank into my very being. My breathing caught—memories rushed in: laughter, camaraderie, shared hardship. My solitude dissolved into resolve.
When the light dimmed, I stepped back. I felt… connected. My control over water had sharpened, and I sensed subtle currents of mana in every drop. The echo of the Pillar's hum lingered in my chest.
Myrienne bowed. "Well done. You and your companions may now claim your reward." She gestured, and from hidden recesses five gilded vials emerged—each containing distilled water infused with Pillar essence. She handed one to each of us. "Use it wisely."
We turned to leave, but the forest had changed. A bruise-colored fog pressed in, and unnatural shadows flickered between the trees. My unease spiked.
"Circle your wards," I ordered. The scouts formed a protective ring, constellations of runes shimmering on the ground.
Without warning, a shriek split the air—like metal tearing. From the mist lunged a Thornfang Manticore, its dark fur bristling with razor vines, wings tattered but still lethal. It roared, eyes glowing with cursed mana.
"Fall back!" Kaelon shouted.
Vera unleashed a torrent of water to push it away; Kaelon hurled a flaming spear; Myrienne summoned a spiraling water barrier. But the beast shrugged off each blow as if nothing more than pest bites.
Cyrian's warning echoed in my mind: "Only bond with the element, or be broken by it."
I centered myself. I had four affinities—lightning, wind, water, shadow—each honed through trial. I could not use them in isolation.
I stepped forward, drawing mana into my core. The forest stilled. The manticore paused, sensing the shift.
I raised both hands. "By wind and storm, by shadow and tide—be bound!"
Lightning lanced from my fingertips, striking the ground around the beast. Wind spiraled up, whipping the lightning into a swirling tempest. Water vapor condensed, forming a whirling mist that enveloped us both. Shadows seeped from my cloak, weaving through the storm.
The forest trembled. The beast roared in pain and fury—its vines burning, its wings lashed by gale, its core chilled by water, its will pierced by shadow.
I held the weave for a heartbeat more, then released. The storm collapsed inward, and the manticore slumped, vines withered, eyes dim. It vanished in a wisp of mist—banished rather than killed.
Silence returned. My chest heaved. The scouts and Myrienne stared, jaws slack. Kaelon slowly approached.
"You…" he breathed, awe and respect mingling. "You've done what no one else could."
I nodded, exhaustion and triumph warring inside me. "We must move. There may be more."
Homeward Bound
By the time we returned to the academy gates, the sun had dipped low. Word of our victory had spread: students lined the walls to watch. Many wore expressions of astonishment; some of envy.
Cyrian awaited us at the entrance, arms folded. He studied each of us in turn, then turned to me. "Well done. Today you proved you are more than a student—you are a guardian in the making."
I bowed. "Thank you, Master Cyrian."
He smiled. "Rest now. Tomorrow, we prepare for what lurks beyond these woods."
As we dispersed, Vera touched my arm. "I can't believe we did that."
I glanced at the horizon, where smoke columns from distant training fields drifted upward. "This is only the beginning."
Kaelon fell into step beside me. "You'll bring down whole armies with that last spell," he muttered, half-joking.
I shrugged. "Let's hope I never have to."
He grinned. "I know we will."
And as the academy's spires glowed under the rising moon, I felt the weight of worlds on my shoulders—and the promise of adventure that lay ahead.