The night didn't sleep.
The forest around the village was alive — not in the usual quiet, breathing kind of way, but as if it had decided to start dreaming out loud.
Soft green light pulsed beneath the trees, flickering through the mist like veins under skin. Flowers opened and closed without reason. The air smelled of wet earth and something faintly metallic, like blood carried on dew.
Alaric couldn't sleep either.
He sat on the roof of the old storage hut, legs dangling off the edge, staring at the glowing treeline. His white hair shimmered faintly in the light, making him look more ghost than boy. His golden eyes reflected the distant glow, calm but alert.
A sigh slipped from his lips. "Can't even have one normal night…"
Below him, Ryn yawned loudly as he walked by, rubbing his eyes. "You're still awake? You'll fall asleep during Kael's drills again."
"I don't sleep during drills," Alaric replied without looking down. "I just… meditate."
Ryn squinted up at him. "Meditate while standing? With your eyes closed? And drooling?"
"That's a high-level technique."
The corner of Alaric's mouth twitched — a faint smirk that betrayed how tired he actually was.
Ryn laughed softly. "You're hopeless."
Their short exchange faded into the night's strange hum. In the distance, the forest's glow pulsed once more — slower now, heavier, almost like a heartbeat.
Ashen appeared silently behind them, his long black coat brushing against the damp grass. He looked as unreadable as ever, but the faint crease between his brows told another story.
"It's spreading," he said quietly. "The forest's mana is pushing closer to the village."
Alaric finally looked away from the trees. "It's reacting to me, isn't it?"
Ashen didn't answer right away. His silver-gray eyes reflected the light, calm yet tense. "Perhaps. But not only you. The temple's awakening changed the balance of this land. The Grand Forest is trying to correct itself."
"By glowing like a giant firefly?" Ryn muttered, stepping closer. "It's kinda… pretty. Creepy, but pretty."
Ashen's gaze softened for a moment. "Beauty and danger often share a face."
That line hung in the air — quiet and heavy. Alaric hopped down from the roof, landing lightly beside them.
"Then we should go see it," he said simply.
Ashen turned to him, one brow lifting. "It's the middle of the night."
"Exactly. Monsters nap too."
"Your logic is… questionable," Ashen murmured.
But he didn't stop him.
Kael joined them a few minutes later, already awake and armed. His broad frame moved with silent precision, and the look he gave Alaric said everything — you planned this, didn't you?
"Let me guess," Kael said. "You're not going to wait until morning."
"Morning's too bright," Alaric said, trying to sound serious but failing. "Besides, I can feel something calling. Like… something wants to talk."
Ryn tilted his head. "Talk? Like… trees talking?"
"Not trees. Something deeper."
Ashen's gaze lingered on him, searching his expression. He'd seen that look before — that pull of instinct Alaric got whenever mana stirred unnaturally. It was the same look he'd worn before they found the temple.
"Fine," Kael said after a long pause. "But we go together. Stay close. The forest's different now — don't forget that."
Alaric nodded. "Wouldn't dream of it."
He didn't mention that he had dreamed of it — or something like it — every night since the Heart Below awoke. The whisper in his head, soft and distant, like a song underwater. Words he couldn't quite understand, but somehow felt were meant for him.
They entered the forest under the glow of its new light.
What used to be dark and quiet was now a garden of motion.
Vines crawled across trees like living veins. Tiny orbs of light drifted between roots, glowing faintly blue and green. Some were mana wisps — small, harmless. Others hovered too long near their skin, almost curious.
The deeper they went, the thicker the air felt. Each breath tasted of magic — not cold like death, nor warm like life, but something in between. Balanced. Waiting.
"This feels… wrong," Kael muttered, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. "The air's too heavy."
"Feels fine to me," Alaric said. "You just need better mana tolerance."
Kael gave him a long look. "And you need better caution."
Ashen chuckled quietly — rare, brief, but real. "Both of you are correct."
Ryn pushed aside a glowing fern and peered ahead. "Hey, there's something up there."
A small clearing opened before them. In the center stood what looked like a massive, ancient tree — its trunk wide enough for a house, roots spreading like rivers. The light they'd seen earlier came from it, pulsing gently under its bark.
Alaric stepped closer, his staff tapping softly against the earth. "This is it…"
He reached out, fingers brushing the air. The glow responded — not violently this time, but warmly, almost welcoming. The mana in the air seemed to lean toward him, swirling softly around his arm.
Ashen stepped closer. "Alaric—"
"I know," Alaric said quietly. "I won't touch it. Not yet."
The light brightened anyway — a silent acknowledgment.
It felt like the forest was… looking back.
For a long moment, no one spoke. The only sound was the gentle pulse of magic through the roots and the faint, steady rhythm of their breathing.
Then the tree moved.
It wasn't much at first — a tremor, a ripple through the ground. Then the vines twisted, curling upward like tendrils responding to a breeze that wasn't there.
Ryn stumbled back. "Did it just—"
"Yes," Kael said sharply. "It moved."
The trunk shifted again, and something like a low hum filled the clearing. The glowing orbs flickered, then vanished. The forest seemed to hold its breath.
Ashen's hand moved to his sword. "Stay behind me."
But Alaric didn't step back.
He stared at the moving vines, eyes wide — not afraid, but drawn. The song in his head was louder now, clearer, as if calling his name.
The air shimmered around the tree, and from between its roots, something began to form — a shape half-made of light and shadow.
Ashen's voice dropped to a whisper. "It's not just the forest anymore…"
The light spilling from the tree's roots grew brighter, turning the mist silver-white.
The hum became a low, thrumming vibration that passed through their bones.
Something stirred beneath the roots — not clawing its way out, but emerging, as if the forest itself was shaping a body.
A silhouette formed in the glow: long limbs woven from bark and vines, eyes of pale blue light, face carved smooth and almost human.
It took one slow step forward, the ground blooming with faint green light wherever it touched.
Ashen raised a hand slightly, his blade half-drawn. "Mana construct," he murmured. "A forest guardian… or what's left of one."
Ryn's voice cracked. "Left of one?"
Alaric's gaze locked on the figure. "It's… mixed. Life and death mana both."
He could feel it — the same duality that lived in him. It wasn't purely alive or dead. It was something balanced in between, suspended perfectly between creation and decay.
The being tilted its head, looking straight at him.
When it spoke, its voice wasn't a sound — it was a vibration that passed through the air, like wind brushing the inside of his mind.
"Child of the Rift."
Alaric froze. His heartbeat quickened. "Rift…?"
The figure's light dimmed slightly, its words slow, deliberate.
"Life and death in one vessel. Born from the forest's fracture. You carry what should not exist."
Kael moved instinctively, stepping in front of Alaric. "Stay back!"
Ashen held out a hand to stop him. "Wait. It's not attacking."
The figure's head turned toward Ashen. The glow in its eyes flickered faintly.
"You walk without breath… bound to the Rift's child. Protector and echo. You are his shadow."
Ashen's expression didn't change, but his eyes softened slightly — faint recognition, perhaps, of the words protector and echo.
Then the guardian turned back to Alaric.
"The balance trembles. The corruption beneath stirs again. You have awakened what slumbers."
Alaric frowned. "Corruption? You mean those beasts?"
The light dimmed once more, the figure flickering like a candle.
"They are fragments. Unbalanced life and death. You stand between."
It stepped closer, its presence vast but gentle, like a wave that didn't break.
Ryn tensed, hand on his dagger. "Alaric—"
"It's fine," Alaric whispered. "It doesn't mean harm."
He raised a hand toward the figure, and for a moment, they both glowed — the same twin light of green and gray, life and death dancing together.
The guardian looked down at their connection.
"Then learn. Restore what your birth fractured."
Before Alaric could ask what that meant, the light burst outward.
Vines whipped through the air, and the ground split open beneath the ancient tree. The forest trembled — not in anger, but in release.
A wave of mana rippled outward, pushing them back. Ryn stumbled, and Kael caught him before he hit the ground.
Ashen grabbed Alaric by the arm, pulling him behind as the glow swallowed the clearing.
When the light finally dimmed, the figure was gone. The roots had retracted, leaving a faint hollow beneath the tree — and a small, glowing seed resting at its center.
Ashen lowered his sword. The forest had gone silent again, save for the soft hum of mana fading in the distance.
Alaric stared at the seed. It pulsed faintly in rhythm with his heartbeat.
"…Guess it liked me," he muttered.
Ryn sighed shakily. "Liked you? It nearly made me faint!"
Kael exhaled through his nose. "You're lucky it didn't crush you. Spirits like that don't just appear."
Ashen stepped forward, crouching beside the hollow. He reached out carefully, brushing his fingers near the seed but not touching it. "It's pure mana. A fragment of the guardian's essence."
Alaric tilted his head. "Then… what do we do with it?"
Ashen glanced at him. "You keep it. It called for you."
Kael frowned deeply. "You're letting him carry that? You don't even know what it'll do."
Ashen's voice was calm, but steady. "Neither did I when I first carried him."
That silenced Kael for a moment. Even Ryn stopped fidgeting.
Alaric blinked, cheeks faintly pink. "That… was oddly sweet, zombie— uh, I mean… Ashen."
Ashen gave him one long, unreadable look. "You almost said something foolish, didn't you?"
Alaric coughed. "Nope. Never."
Ryn snickered, tension breaking for a moment.
But the humor faded when Alaric picked up the seed. The glow dimmed slightly, settling into his palm like it belonged there. The warmth spread through his arm, faint but comforting.
It was like touching a piece of home.
Still, deep down, he felt the truth — this wasn't just a gift. It was a burden.
He could sense something beneath the forest's calm.
A pulse — slow, massive, alive — deep underground.
And he had the sinking feeling that whatever the guardian had warned about… was still waking up.
They returned to the village just before dawn.
The light behind the trees faded with the sunrise, and for a few brief hours, the world looked normal again.
But everyone felt it — the tension, the quiet awareness that something had changed.
Kael left them with a warning glance. "Rest. I'll speak to the elders about what we saw."
Ryn followed, yawning. "Don't blow up the hut while I'm gone."
"Only if it misbehaves," Alaric said, waving lazily.
When they were gone, only Ashen remained.
He stood near the doorway, hands clasped behind his back, silver-gray eyes watching Alaric quietly.
"You shouldn't have taken the seed without knowing what it does," he said softly.
Alaric rolled the glowing seed between his fingers, then smiled faintly. "You say that like it would've listened to anyone else."
Ashen sighed — faintly, almost human. "Perhaps not."
He reached out, brushing a strand of Alaric's white hair from his eyes. "Still… you're growing too quickly."
"I'm trying," Alaric said. "The forest won't wait forever."
Ashen didn't answer. His hand lingered for a moment before falling away.
For the first time that night, silence felt heavy — not dangerous, but thoughtful.
Outside, the morning birds began to sing.
Inside, Alaric stared at the seed, feeling its faint warmth pulse against his palm.
He wasn't sure if it was comfort… or a warning.
But either way, he couldn't ignore it.
The next few days passed quietly—too quietly.
The villagers went about their work, but the usual chatter by the well or the sound of hammering in the square felt muted, like everyone was waiting for something to go wrong.
Alaric could feel it too. Every time the wind passed through the trees, the hairs on his neck stood up. The air wasn't just heavy—it listened.
He spent most of his time in the small hut Kael had given them, rolling the glowing seed between his fingers. It didn't hum like before, but it pulsed faintly in time with his heartbeat.
It wasn't just light. It was alive.
Sometimes, when he focused, he could feel faint threads of mana spreading out from it—flowing into the air, the ground, even the plants outside.
Ashen stood nearby, his presence calm as always, polishing his sword with quiet precision.
"You've been staring at that thing for hours," he said without looking up.
Alaric rested his chin on the table. "It's doing something. I just don't know what yet."
"Then stop it from doing anything," Ashen replied simply.
"That's… not how magic works."
Ashen finally glanced up, his silver-gray eyes faintly amused. "And yet your version of magic seems to involve poking dangerous objects until they explode."
Alaric groaned, slumping forward. "It's called experimenting."
"I call it tempting fate."
Their exchange drew a quiet laugh from outside. Ryn peeked through the window. "You two sound like an old married couple."
Alaric threw a pebble at him. "Get lost."
Ryn grinned. "Relax, I brought food. Kael said you need to eat before the forest eats you."
He dropped off a basket of bread and roasted meat before leaning on the window sill. "So… how's the weird glowing seed doing?"
Alaric hesitated. "It's… fine. I think."
Ryn raised an eyebrow. "You think?"
"Yeah," Alaric muttered, staring at the faint light. "It feels like it's waiting for something."
Ryn snorted. "Like what, applause?"
Ashen's gaze shifted slightly toward the seed. "No. It's waiting for him."
The room fell quiet for a moment.
Ryn rubbed the back of his neck. "You mean it's… alive?"
"In its own way," Ashen said softly. "The guardian left it behind for a reason. It's tied to the forest, and by extension… to Alaric."
That made Ryn uneasy. He shifted on his feet, glancing at the doorway. "Then maybe you should get rid of it. The villagers are already nervous. If they find out you're keeping a glowing seed that might be cursed—"
"They won't," Alaric interrupted, his tone firm. "I'll make sure of it."
Ryn looked at him, surprised by how serious his friend's expression had become.
There were moments when Alaric didn't seem like a kid at all—moments where his gold eyes held something older, something tired.
Finally, Ryn nodded. "Alright. But if that thing starts whispering in your sleep, I'm burning it."
Alaric snorted. "You'll have to catch me first."
Ashen gave them both a look that somehow managed to be both patient and disapproving. "Try not to test each other's threats. We already have enough fires to put out."
That night, the forest called again.
It started as a hum in the back of Alaric's mind—soft, steady, and strangely familiar.
He sat up in bed, blinking into the dim light. The seed on the table pulsed faintly, as though responding to him.
"Ashen," he whispered.
The undead stirred instantly, eyes opening with faint silver light. "I sense it too."
The air outside shimmered faintly with mana. Through the cracks of the wooden walls, the forest glowed with a faint green hue—just like the night they found the guardian.
Ashen stood, sword in hand. "Stay inside."
"Not a chance."
Before Ashen could protest, Alaric grabbed his staff and the seed. The warmth from it ran up his arm, settling deep in his chest.
The moment his feet touched the grass outside, the hum grew louder.
Ashen followed silently, his steps smooth and soundless.
The forest wasn't hostile this time. It felt… welcoming. The air shimmered with tiny specks of light that drifted like fireflies, leading them deeper into the trees.
"Déjà vu," Alaric murmured. "Let me guess, another ancient thing wanting to talk?"
"Possibly," Ashen replied. "Or something wanting to listen."
They walked until they reached the same clearing—the one where the guardian had appeared.
But this time, the massive tree was quiet. The roots glowed faintly, soft and calm. The seed in Alaric's hand pulsed brighter in response.
And then—light.
It flowed from the seed like mist, spreading across the ground in delicate waves. Patterns formed—circles, runes, and lines connecting like threads of life itself.
Ashen watched silently, his expression unreadable.
Alaric could feel the pull now. The forest wasn't just calling him—it was syncing with him.
The seed rose slightly from his hand, floating between him and Ashen. Its glow grew intense, filling the clearing with warmth.
Then a faint whisper echoed through their minds.
"Balance… must be kept."
Alaric's eyes widened. The same voice as before—the guardian's.
But this time, it sounded weaker.
"The fracture deepens. The corruption below stirs. The child of the Rift must choose…"
The voice faded before he could ask what it meant.
The seed dimmed, drifting back into his hands like a feather.
Ashen knelt, studying the faint runes still glowing in the soil. "It's binding itself to you. A contract of sorts."
Alaric blinked. "Contract? With the forest?"
Ashen nodded slowly. "It's using you as a vessel to stabilize itself. Life and death—your dual mana—might be the only thing keeping it from collapsing."
Alaric's stomach dropped. "You're saying I'm basically… forest glue?"
Ryn's voice came from behind them, slightly breathless. "That's one way to put it."
They turned. Ryn stood there, holding a lantern, panting. "You could've at least told me you were sneaking out again! I nearly tripped over a root!"
Alaric sighed, half amused, half exhausted. "The forest called. I answered."
"Yeah, and next time it calls, tell it to leave a message," Ryn said, but his tone softened as he looked around. "So… this is it? The source?"
Ashen stood, eyes narrowing. "No. This is just the surface."
The air grew colder, the faint green glow deepening to blue. Beneath the soil, something moved.
The roots shifted, and a pulse of dark mana rippled outward.
Alaric and Ashen reacted instantly—Ashen drawing his sword, Alaric channeling mana through his staff.
Ryn took a step back, eyes wide. "Uh… please tell me that's normal."
"It's not," Alaric said grimly.
The ground cracked open, and from the fissure rose a shape—dark, skeletal, covered in twisted vines and glowing red eyes.
It wasn't like the corrupted beasts from before. This one was larger, humanoid, with half its body made of wood and half of bone.
Its voice was a rasp, deep and broken. "Balance… has failed…"
Alaric's pulse quickened. "Ashen."
"I see it."
The creature raised its arm, and the vines lashed out like whips. Ashen sliced through them with fluid precision, each movement fast and clean.
"Ryn, back!" Alaric shouted.
He lifted his staff, pouring mana into it. Light surged—life and death twisting together, forming a thin beam that slammed into the creature's chest.
It staggered, but didn't fall. Instead, it roared, sending a shockwave that threw Alaric back.
Ashen caught him midair, landing smoothly. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine—just annoyed!" Alaric snapped, scrambling to his feet. "Guess the forest's guardian left a few unfriendly relatives!"
Ryn stared, trembling slightly but standing his ground. "You're calling that thing a relative?!"
Ashen's eyes glowed faintly, cold and sharp. "Focus."
The creature lunged again, and this time, Ashen moved like a blur—his blade slicing through the vines and bone. But even as it fell, the pieces began to twitch, reforming.
Alaric realized the truth in an instant. "It's feeding on the mana around us!"
"Then cut off its source," Ashen said.
Alaric gritted his teeth, gripping his staff tighter. "Right. Let's do this."
He stepped forward, golden and gray light wrapping around him like twin flames.
The forest seemed to hold its breath.
And then—he released everything.