Perfect — here's the tri
The gates of Ironwood Academy loomed in the moonlight as Alder paused to catch his breath. The cool night breeze brushed his face, carrying the faint scent of moss and rain-soaked earth. For a brief moment, the quiet made him feel grounded—like he finally belonged to something larger than himself.
He entered the academy's main hall, where the last lamps still burned. A few students hurried past, their voices echoing faintly off the marble walls. The warmth of the stone corridors washed over him, easing the stiffness in his shoulders after a long day of training. He was halfway to his dorm when he spotted a lone figure at the forest's edge.
It was Cal.
Alder approached, gravel crunching underfoot. "You're out late," he said.
Cal turned with a grin, and a soft red glow flickered at his feet. A small, molten-colored slime bounced beside him, radiating gentle heat.
"That can't be your class slime," Alder said, astonished.
Cal chuckled. "Meet Charcoal. Picked him up on the way here. Spent everything I had."
Alder crouched to examine the creature. The air shimmered faintly from its warmth. "You've outdone yourself this time," he said. "Lava slimes are rare."
Cal shrugged. "Strong too. He already knows a weak fire spell."
Alder smiled. "You'll be catching up to me sooner than I thought."
"Try to keep up," Cal replied with a smirk before heading toward the dorms.
Alder lingered, glancing toward the forest. The trees whispered in the wind, calling him deeper. He slipped past the academy's walls and into the dark.
The forest greeted him with cool air and the scent of pine. He summoned Atlas, his towering ironwood guardian, and Willow, his loyal stump companion. Together, they moved between the trunks like shadows.
A distant howl shattered the stillness. Then another. A third followed, closer.
"Dire wolves," Alder muttered, tightening his grip on his staff.
Three shapes emerged from the gloom, their eyes glinting yellow. He gave quick commands. "Willow, bind the first two. Atlas, on guard!"
The wolves lunged. Willow's roots whipped up from the soil, tangling two mid-charge. The third darted wide, teeth bared—and met Atlas head-on. The puppet struck with a solid blow, sending the beast tumbling into a tree.
Alder struck out with his staff, parrying a wild snap of jaws. His heart pounded, every sense sharpened. "Hold them steady!" he called. Willow's barbs dug deep, draining life from her captives as Atlas pinned the last wolf to the ground. Moments later, silence returned to the forest.
Alder exhaled slowly. "Good work," he said. Willow brushed against his boot with a thin root, her glow faint but steady.
By dawn, they had reached the ancient ironwood tree Alder had scouted before—a giant among trees. Its bark gleamed like dull metal in the sunlight. He ran a hand over it, feeling the weight and strength in its grain.
"Let's take it slow," he said. Atlas raised the enchanted axe, and after steady work, the great tree finally fell with a heavy crash that shook the ground.
They trimmed a single log and marked the rest for later. "One's enough for today," Alder said, wiping sweat from his brow.
On the way back, a dark hollow caught his eye—a cave hidden behind thick roots and brush. Cautiously, he sent Willow's roots ahead to check. Through their bond, he felt the reassuring sense of emptiness. Safe.
Inside, the cave smelled of dust and old smoke. Carved markings lined the stone—drawings, initials, signs that students had once used this place as shelter. It was empty now. Forgotten.
Alder stood in the center and smiled faintly. "This will do."
He could already picture it—a hidden workshop where he could craft without interference. With Atlas's help, he set to work. They split the log and carved a door first, then a small table and stools. The cave soon filled with the sharp scent of freshly cut wood and the rhythmic sound of carving.
When the door finally fit into place, Alder ran his palm over the grain. "Perfect," he whispered.
By the next evening, they had a complete shelter. Atlas etched small enchantments into the furniture, strengthening and sealing each piece. Outside, Willow's roots wove through the earth, pulling brush over the entrance until it vanished into the forest.
It was their secret place—a refuge for craft and study.
Days later, during another trip to the forest, a low growl froze Alder mid-step. From the shadows emerged a massive black bear—the same one that had driven them off before. Its fur bristled, and its breath steamed in the cool air.
"Positions," Alder ordered. "Atlas—front. Willow, ranged."
The bear charged. Atlas met it head-on, blocking a swipe of claws that splintered his arm. Willow's thorns lashed out, drawing streaks of blood along the beast's flank. Alder circled wide, his ironwood staff flashing as he struck at its legs.
The forest shook with the sounds of the struggle—snarls, cracking branches, the hiss of magic. When the bear finally stumbled, Alder shouted, "Now!"
Willow's roots erupted from the ground, coiling around the bear's limbs. Atlas slammed his arm down, pinning the beast in place. Alder struck the final blow, the impact ringing through the clearing.
The bear fell still.
Light rippled through Willow as her magic surged. Her stump-like body stretched upward, bark splitting as limbs grew and twisted into branches. The faint green glow in her core deepened to a darker hue. She had evolved—no longer a stump, but a six-foot Undead Ent, her form strong and hauntingly beautiful.
Alder smiled, awe flickering in his eyes. "You've outdone yourself again, Willow."
The following week, Alder and Atlas worked tirelessly at their new base, crafting blades, shields, and tools from ironwood. Each piece gleamed with subtle enchantment—simple but strong, built for use rather than show. The workshop became their quiet sanctuary, far from the eyes of nobles and professors.
Before returning to the academy, Alder brushed aside the last few branches concealing the cave. From the path, it was invisible—just another shadow in the forest.
"Weekends," he murmured. "We'll work here in peace."
He turned toward Ironwood Academy, Atlas and Willow flanking him. The towers glowed faintly in the evening light, lanterns flickering like distant stars. The forest whispered behind him; ahead, the academy waited.