Thorns of the Whispering WoodsThe Whispering Woods breathed around Ethan—slow, cold, alive. Branches creaked like old bones as he and Lira walked, the Fallen Knight's amulet glowing faintly in his palm, casting a thin gold light over gnarled roots that snaked across the ground. The Cursed Blade at his hip hummed softly, not with malice now, but with a strange, eager thrumming—as if it recognized the path.Lira stayed a step ahead, her boots silent on the leaf litter. Every few minutes, she'd pause, pressing a hand to a tree trunk, her eyes narrowing. "Ward stones," she said once, nodding at a moss-covered rock half-buried in dirt. "They're old—Fallen Knight magic. Kept the woods' worst things in check… once."Ethan glanced at the amulet. Its glow brightened as they passed the stone. "Why's it lighting up?""Because it's tied to the same magic as the Blade," Lira said, not slowing. "Your grandfather probably set these wards. He was here, Ethan. Not just passing through—staying."The thought made his chest tight. A quiet mechanic, hiding a past as a knight in a magical world? He flipped the amulet between his fingers, tracing the rune carved into its surface—the same rune that marked the Cursed Blade. "Why would he leave this world? Why come back to mine?"Lira didn't answer. She'd gone quiet, her hand drifting to the blue rune stitched on her robe. Ethan had noticed that before—when talk turned to his grandfather, she shut down, like she was guarding a secret too heavy to share. He didn't push. Not yet.The woods grew darker as they walked. The trees closed in, their leaves blocking what little moonlight filtered through, and the air turned sharp with the smell of iron. The amulet's glow flared, so bright it painted the trunks gold."Stop," Lira said, holding out a hand.Ethan froze. Ahead, the path split into two—one lined with thorny vines that dripped a black, sticky sap, the other vanishing into a wall of mist. The Cursed Blade's hum rose to a growl, and the burn in his chest flickered to life."Which way?" he asked.Lira knelt, brushing dirt off a stone at his feet. Carved into it was a symbol: a sword crossed with a staff. "Your grandfather's mark," she said. "He took the thorny path."Ethan stared at the vines. They coiled slowly, as if waiting. "Those look… hungry.""They are," Lira said. "They feed on magic. If we touch them with even a spark, they'll wrap around us and drain us dry." She stood, frowning. "But the mist path—there's something worse in there. I can feel it. A void. No magic, no life… just nothing."Ethan gripped the Cursed Blade's hilt. The amulet warmed in his palm, as if urging him forward. "Grandfather took the thorns. So do we."Lira hesitated, then nodded. She pulled a small knife from her robe, sliced her palm, and let a drop of blood fall on the vines. The thorns recoiled, hissing. "Blood of a rune-wielder," she said, wiping her hand on her robe. "It confuses them—for a minute. We have to move fast."They ran. The thorns snapped at their heels, their black sap splattering the ground where it burned small holes in the dirt. Ethan kept his eyes on the path, the amulet's glow guiding him, until the thorns thinned—and then vanished, giving way to a clearing.In the center stood a stone pedestal, cracked and covered in moss. On top of it lay a sword—broken, its hilt carved with the same runes as Ethan's Blade. And at the base of the pedestal, scrawled in what looked like dried blood, were words:The Heart feeds on the guilty. The Blade frees them.Ethan stepped closer. The Cursed Blade's hum roared, and the broken sword on the pedestal began to glow, matching his Blade's light. He reached out—A shout echoed through the woods."Ethan!"Kael.Ethan spun around. Kael stood at the edge of the clearing, flanked by the scarred mage and two new figures—one with a cloak made of feathers, the other wielding a bow strung with silver arrows. Behind them, the thorny vines began to regrow, blocking the only exit."Thought you could hide in the woods?" Kael sneered. "The headmaster's wards tracked the amulet. You're trapped."The feather-cloaked mage raised her hands. Wind swirled around her, lifting leaves and dirt into a cyclone. "Hand over the Blade and the amulet, boy. Or the wind will tear you apart."Ethan pushed Lira behind him, gripping the Cursed Blade. He couldn't fight four mages. Not even with Lira's help. But the broken sword on the pedestal—something about it called to his Blade. He glanced at the words again: The Blade frees them."Lira," he whispered. "Can you hold them off? Just for a second?"Lira nodded, pulling a handful of blue powder from her robe. "I'll try. But be quick." She threw the powder into the air. It exploded into a wall of ice, blocking the mages' view.Ethan sprinted to the pedestal. He grabbed the broken sword's hilt. The moment his fingers touched it, the Cursed Blade in his hip surged—power flooding his veins, hot but not burning, not this time. The broken sword glowed, and the two Blades' runes merged, forming a single, bright symbol.The ground shook. The pedestal cracked open, and a beam of black light shot into the sky. The mist from the other path rushed toward it, swirling around the light like a tornado."What are you doing?" Kael shouted, breaking through the ice wall with a fireball.Ethan didn't answer. He felt it—the Heart of the Woods, deep beneath the ground, waking. The Cursed Blade's truth, finally clicking into place: the Blades weren't just weapons. They were keys. Keys to the Heart, which held the souls of the Fallen Knights—including his grandfather's.The scarred mage launched a wind whip at Ethan. Lira jumped in front of him, her robe glowing blue, and the whip shattered against her shield. "Go!" she yelled. "The Heart's waking—you need to reach it before Kael does!"Ethan nodded. He grabbed the broken sword, now glowing as bright as his Blade, and ran toward the black light. The ground split beneath him, forming a staircase leading down into darkness. He descended, the amulet in his hand lighting the way, as Kael's shouts faded above him.The staircase ended in a cave. In the center, a stone heart pulsed with black light—veins of magic running from it to the walls, to the very roots of the woods. And floating above it, bound by chains of light, was a ghostly figure: a man in tattered knight's armor, his face hidden by a helmet.Ethan stepped closer. The Cursed Blade's hum turned to a whimper. The ghostly figure turned toward him."Grandfather?" Ethan whispered.The figure nodded. Its voice was faint, like wind through stone. "You've come. The Blade chose well.""The truth," Ethan said. "What is it? Why did you leave? Why give me the Blade?"The figure sighed. "I didn't leave. I was trapped. The Heart feeds on guilt—mine, for betraying the Order. For letting them use the Blades to conquer, not protect. I hid the Blade in your world, to keep it safe… but the Order found me. Trapped me here."The cave shook. Dust fell from the ceiling. "Kael's coming," the figure said. "He wants the Heart. To use its power to become the new Order leader. You must stop him. The Blade can destroy the Heart—but it will cost you. The guilt, the rage… it will be yours to bear."Ethan gripped the Cursed Blade. The burn in his chest flared, but this time, he didn't fight it. He embraced it—the weight of his grandfather's past, the responsibility of the Blade. "I'll bear it."The figure smiled. "Good. Now go." It raised a hand, and the chains around it shattered. "I'll hold Kael off. For as long as I can."Ethan nodded. He turned to run back up the staircase—only to see Kael standing at the top, fireball in hand."Going somewhere, traitor?" Kael said. "The Heart is mine. And when I take it, I'll kill you. And your grandfather's ghost, too."The ghostly figure appeared behind Kael, sword raised. "Not if I stop you first."Ethan didn't wait. He ran past them, the Cursed Blade and broken sword glowing in his hands. The woods above were in chaos—Lira fighting the feather-cloaked mage, the scarred mage firing wind whips at the trees."Ethan!" Lira shouted, spotting him. "The Heart—did you—""Kael's after it," Ethan said. "We need to get out. Now."Lira nodded. She grabbed his hand, and they ran toward the edge of the woods, the Cursed Blade's hum fading as they left the Heart's magic behind. Behind them, the woods shook, and a roar echoed—Kael's, angry and defeated.They didn't stop until they reached the academy's outer walls, gasping for breath. The amulet in Ethan's hand dimmed, its glow gone. The Cursed Blade fell silent."We did it," Lira said, smiling faintly.Ethan shook his head. "No. We just bought time. Kael won't stop. Not until he has the Heart. And the Blade's truth… it's heavier than I thought."Lira placed a hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to bear it alone. Remember that."Ethan looked at her. For the first time, her eyes weren't cold—they were warm, determined. He nodded. "I won't."The first light of dawn broke over the walls, painting the sky pink. Ethan gripped the Cursed Blade, the broken sword tucked in his coat, and stared at the academy. Kael was inside, plotting. The Heart was still in the woods, waiting.His journey wasn't over. Not even close. But this time, he wasn't alone. And he wasn't afraid.
Chapter 4 - Chapter 4: Thorns of the Whispering Woods
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