Chapter 5

The Ash Forest wasn’t what Eli expected.

When he first heard the name, he pictured something out of a post-apocalyptic game—charred trees, dead soil, maybe even the skeletons of old battles still tangled in the undergrowth. But as he followed Alira along the winding trail, the forest was anything but lifeless. Sunlight streamed through a dense canopy of emerald leaves, and faint pulses of blue shimmered beneath the bark of certain trees, as if veins of mana ran just under the surface. Flowers grew in soft clusters at the base of the trunks, glowing faintly in hues of violet and gold. The air smelled clean, but rich, like it was somehow fresher than what Eli was used to breathing.

“So… where’s the ash?” Eli asked, nudging at a patch of moss with the tip of his boot. “This place looks pretty alive to me.”

Alira glanced over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. “The forest healed, but scars remain. This place remembers more than it shows.”

Eli frowned. “Cryptic.”

Alira didn’t respond right away. Her gaze drifted upward to the highest branches, where faint traces of silver lined the tips of the leaves. After a long pause, she continued walking.

“They call this place the Ash Forest because of the war,” she said finally. “Zorathia burned it to the ground long ago, hoping to starve Arindral of the mana that grew here.”

Eli looked around, trying to reconcile the story with the lush, living forest surrounding him. “It bounced back pretty well.”

“Yes,” Alira said, resting a hand against one of the glowing trees. “But it took the effort of hundreds of healers from Lirienvale and Arindral. Mana can mend the land, but only if the land allows it.”

Eli’s brow furrowed. “What does that even mean?”

Alira turned, offering a small, knowing smile. “Some wounds resist healing. Even mana cannot force the land to forget. Just like some memories refuse to fade.”

Eli knew she wasn’t just talking about the forest.

They walked in silence for a time, the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hum of unseen creatures filling the space between them. For all the strange things he’d already experienced since arriving in Caelum, this felt… peaceful. Different from the chaos of the past few days.

But the quiet didn’t sit right with him.

“So,” Eli said, breaking the silence. “Let’s say I’m not a huge fan of awkward silences. You feel like telling me more about this war?”

Alira raised an eyebrow but didn’t object. “You’re curious about Caelum’s past?”

“I mean, if I’m stuck here, I might as well get the lore straight,” Eli said. “Better than walking in silence.”

Alira chuckled softly. “Very well. The war started over mana wells, like the one we’re heading toward now. Arindral held most of them, but Zorathia believed mana’s power should belong to those strong enough to take it. The Warlords united under a single banner and sought to claim what they saw as rightfully theirs.”

Eli shook his head. “Classic villain move.”

“It was more complicated than that,” Alira said. “Zorathia sees strength as a virtue, and weakness as something to be overcome—or eliminated.”

“Sounds pretty villainous to me.”

Alira smiled faintly. “Perhaps. But many who fought on their side believed they were protecting their homes. Not all conflicts are as simple as good and evil, sometimes it is two sides trying to protect their people or do what they think is best for their worlds.”

Eli sighed. “Yeah… I get that, like the Avengers movies. Thanos thinks he’s trying to do something good, but wiping out half the universe to achieve that doesn’t exactly sit well with the people that might get wiped out.”

Alira shot him a puzzled look, her lips twitching. “I don’t know what an 'Avenger' is, but that sounds… intense.”

Eli smirked. “Yeah, understatement of the year.”

He kicked at a loose stone on the path, his hands tucked into his pockets as they continued forward. “Okay, so… imagine this. The Avengers are basically heroes—superpowers, high-tech armor, the works. And Thanos? He’s the big bad guy, thinks he’s saving the universe by getting rid of half of everyone because, in his head, fewer people means fewer problems more resources for everyone. Real ‘sacrifices must be made’ type.”

Alira’s eyes narrowed slightly in thought. “He believed this would bring peace?”

“Yeah. Real peace-through-destruction vibe. And the crazy thing is, he kind of sticks to his principles. He’s not one of those villains that just wants power. He’s more like... the guy who’s willing to do what everyone else is afraid to, even if it’s monstrous.”

Eli gestured with his hands as he talked, the explanation tumbling out like he’d been waiting for someone to ask. “But the build-up to him? It took, like, ten years of movies to get to the point where he actually snaps his fingers and poof—half the universe is dust.”

Alira raised an eyebrow. “He destroyed half of existence with… a snap?”

“Yeah, well, magic space rocks were involved, but basically. And for a while, it’s brutal. People you care about just gone. But then, you know, the Avengers fight back, and there’s this huge battle—crazy epic stuff. Iron Man, one of the main guys, sacrifices himself to undo it all.”

Alira’s brow furrowed. “And this… Iron Man stopped the war?”

Eli nodded. “Yeah. And after that, the story kind of... falls apart. I mean, the movies kept coming, but without Iron Man, it felt different. Like they lost part of what made it great. Some of the magic just wasn’t there anymore, it’s tough to replace heroes when they die.”

Alira studied him carefully, tilting her head as if connecting the dots beneath the words.

Eli let out a breath, shaking his head with a chuckle. “None of this is important currently,” he said, glancing at her. “I doubt explaining superhero movies is going to help me not get eaten by glowing forest monsters.”

Alira smiled faintly. “Perhaps not. But stories reveal much about the people who tell them.”

“Yeah, well,” Eli muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, “I think Thanos would probably do fine in Zorathia.”

Alira’s smile lingered. “He might, at that.”

Alira walked in silence beside him for a moment, letting the echoes of his words hang in the air. Her gaze softened, and she glanced sideways at him.

“What about you? Your lost heroes?”

Eli slowed slightly, the question hitting harder than he expected. He looked down at the ground, swallowing the lump forming in his throat.

For the first time since the conversation started, Alira stopped walking. She looked at him carefully, as if searching for something deeper beneath the surface.

“What happened to you, Eli?” she asked softly.

His first instinct was to brush it off. Crack a joke or change the subject. But something about the forest—the air, the mana, the way Alira asked without pressing—made it feel easier to talk.

“My parents,” Eli said, his voice quieter than he expected. “There was an accident. A car crash. They didn’t make it.”

Alira said nothing, but the weight of her gaze made him continue.

“Basketball was kind of… my thing,” he went on, kicking at a loose stone. “It was both my parents too. They were the ones who got me into it. I guess, after everything, I just poured myself into the game. It was the only thing that felt normal.”

Alira watched him for a long moment before speaking. “Sometimes, we carry the past because we’re afraid to let go of it.”

Eli exhaled sharply. “Yeah. I’ve heard that before. Still doesn’t make it easier.”

“It rarely does,” Alira admitted.

A few moments passed in silence, the path narrowing beneath the thick canopy overhead.

Then, Alira’s voice broke the quiet.

“What is… basketball?”

Eli glanced sideways at her, caught off guard by the question. “Wait, you don’t have basketball here?”

Alira shook her head. “I’ve never heard of it. You spoke of it like it was important to you and your father. Is it a kind of ritual?”

Eli snorted. “Well, some people treat it like one.” He grinned, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s just a game. Two teams, one ball, and you try to score by getting it through a hoop. Simple, but people get really into it.”

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He hesitated for a moment, his smile fading as his gaze dropped to the trail. “For me, though… it was more than just a game. My parents played. It’s how they met. My mom, Emma—she was a point guard. Played for UNC. Led the Tar Heels to a national championship her senior year. She was the kind of player who made everything look easy—calm, sharp, always two steps ahead of everyone else.”

Alira’s eyes narrowed slightly as she listened. “She commanded the court?”

“Exactly,” Eli said, his voice softening with the weight of memory. “She controlled the pace, set up plays, knew where everyone needed to be. And my dad? Arthur Thompson. He went to this small Division 2 school—Calderwood University. Completely different vibe, but he was unstoppable. Led them to their own national championship, broke almost every record they had. They retired his number after he graduated.”

“They both sound like champions,” Alira said with a small smile.

Eli nodded. “They were. And I got pieces of both of them. My dad’s athleticism—he was all dunks, blocks, and highlights. And my mom’s vision, her ability to slow the game down and see it differently than everyone else. They balanced each other out. That’s what made them great.”

He shifted, running a hand through his hair. “They made me the player I was. The person I was.”

Alira studied him, her expression soft but perceptive. “And what kind of player were you?”

Eli hesitated for a moment, his foot tapping absently against a root on the path. “I was the number one high school recruit in the country. I had offers from everywhere. People were calling me the next big thing.” His voice faltered slightly. “But that… doesn’t really matter now.”

Alira caught the shift in his tone. “Why?”

Eli swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the trail ahead. “Because I don’t play anymore.”

He could feel the question lingering on her lips, but to her credit, Alira didn’t press. They walked quietly for a stretch, the forest humming with faint traces of mana that pulsed through the undergrowth.

Finally, Eli spoke again, his voice quieter. “My parents died on a college vist, a college is a school that would pay for your education to play basketball there. I was supposed to choose between a few schools, but I kept putting it off. I thought I had more time to decide.” He exhaled slowly, the weight of guilt pressing against his chest. “We were driving back when the accident happened. I was the only one who made it out.”

Alira glanced at him, sadness flickering behind her gaze. “You believe that if you had decided sooner, they would still be alive.”

Eli nodded, barely able to trust his voice. “Yeah.”

They walked in silence, the only sound the crunch of leaves beneath their feet.

“And now you carry their memories,” Alira said softly.

“Every day,” Eli replied. He forced a small smile. “Basketball was our thing. But after the accident… I was hurt too. Spent two years learning how to walk again. By the time I could, the game had passed me by. And that was that.”

Alira stopped for a moment, letting his words settle. “You said basketball was something you could control. Perhaps that’s why you held onto it so tightly.”

Eli nodded. “It made sense when nothing else did.”

Alira’s gaze softened. “I think I understand. Mana can feel the same to some here. A force that shapes the world around you, yet offers comfort when everything else falls apart.”

Eli arched an eyebrow. “So, mana’s your basketball?”

Alira smiled faintly. “In a way.”

“Ok, so I definitely derailed your explanation of the Great War, I will try to keep us on topic, no promises though.” Eli said with a half smirk.

Alira nodded slightly, taking a slow breath as they walked. "Before I explain the war, let me give you a sense of the regions of Caelum. Each one is unique, shaped by mana and the people who call it home."

She gestured to the forest around them. "This is Arindral, the Heartland of Mana. Rolling plains, lush forests, and vast rivers—mana flows freely here. It’s why the flora glows and why storms of raw mana sometimes sweep across the land. It’s a land of balance and tradition, ruled by a monarchy and a Council of Mana Advisors. Emerald-tier users often serve as generals or scholars, keeping the peace and studying mana’s mysteries."

Eli raised an eyebrow. "Sounds peaceful enough, though you’re making it sound like a magic Disneyland."

Alira chuckled. "Peaceful, yes. But its history is turbulent. Many of the ancient battlefields still pulse with unstable mana, especially in the Rift Plains."

She continued, her tone more measured. "Zorathia is very different. It’s a harsh and rugged land—mountains, volcanic regions, and canyons. The mana there manifests as raw, destructive power. Its society is dominated by feudal warlords who prize strength above all else. Ruby-tier warriors are revered, and disputes are often settled in sacred battle arenas."

Eli nodded thoughtfully. "Let me guess, they’re not big on diplomacy."

"Not typically," Alira admitted with a small smile. "Then there’s Lirienvale, the Enchanted Lowlands. Vast wetlands and labyrinthine rivers covered in mist. Mana there is gentle, tied to water and healing. It’s governed by a Democratic Senate, with healers and water mana masters holding great influence. Their ceremonies and rituals focus on harmony with nature."

"So they’re the peaceful ones?" Eli asked.

"Peaceful, yes," Alira replied. "But not powerless. When provoked, their mastery of water mana is formidable."

She shifted her focus forward as they walked. "Draegonreach, on the other hand, is untamed and bold. Towering peaks and floating islands dominate its landscape. The people there are proud, governed by clan coalitions. Flight and wind mana are central to their culture, and aerial combat is a hallmark of their strength."

"Flying islands and sky warriors," Eli said with a low whistle. "That sounds... epic."

Alira gave a small nod. "It is. Then we have Meridraen, the Sands of Eternity. Expansive deserts and ancient ruins, rich with history and mana relics. It’s ruled by a sultanate advised by seers who use mana to predict weather and guide survival. Their traders are resourceful, their explorers brave, and their reverence for ancient mana deep."

"A desert filled with treasure hunters," Eli said. "Let me guess, it’s a mix of Indiana Jones and Mad Max?"

Alira tilted her head slightly. "I don’t understand those references, but I’ll assume you’re correct. Lastly, there’s Caeloria, the Frostbound Expanse. Icy tundras, frozen lakes, and mana-lit skies. Its people are resilient, led by a Council of Elders. Ice mana defines their survival, shaping their culture around unity and spiritual growth."

"So, every region is shaped by its mana," Eli said, piecing it together.

"Exactly," Alira said. "And it was this diversity—this abundance of mana—that led to the Great War."

She paused for a moment, her expression turning somber. "The war started over mana wells, like the one we’re heading toward now. Arindral held most of them, but Zorathia believed mana’s power should belong to those strong enough to take it. The warlords united under a single banner and sought to claim what they saw as rightfully theirs."

Eli nodded slowly, intrigued. “So, the war was just a big land grab?”

“It was far more than that,” Alira said. “It was a clash of ideals. Arindral stood for balance and stewardship, believing mana wells were sacred, meant to nurture all of Caelum. Zorathia, in its hunger for dominance, saw them as weapons and tools for conquest.”

As they walked, Alira gestured toward the forest around them. “The Great War reshaped the very fabric of Caelum. Entire regions were destroyed or corrupted. Take Arindral, for instance—the Heartland of Mana. Its plains and forests still bear scars from battles fought centuries ago. The Rift Plains, where unstable mana rages unchecked, was once a thriving valley.”

“Let me guess,” Eli said, his tone dry. “The good guys won?”

Alira gave a rueful smile. “If only it were so simple. Arindral’s victory came at a cost. Their mana advisors unleashed powers they could barely control. Entire armies were annihilated in seconds. It was not a triumph—it was a tragedy. And yet, balance was restored, for a time.”

Eli frowned, his footsteps slowing. “And the other regions? Were they involved?”

“Every region was drawn into the conflict,” Alira explained. “Zorathia’s aggression spread like wildfire, consuming alliances and shattering trusts. Lirienvale, the Enchanted Lowlands, suffered when its wetlands were poisoned by corrupted mana. Draegonreach, with its skyborne islands, saw brutal aerial battles. Even Meridraen’s deserts became battlegrounds, its shifting dunes hiding armies and ambushes.”

“What about Caeloria?” Eli asked, his curiosity growing. “The Frost place?”

“They tried to remain neutral,” Alira said, her voice tinged with sadness. “But neutrality in a war like that is a fragile thing. Their icy tundras became the stage for desperate retreats and final stands. The mana auroras that once symbolized peace became harbingers of disaster.”

Eli whistled low. “Sounds like nobody walked away clean.”

“No one did,” Alira agreed. “The Preserver and Reformer, whose philosophies underpin much of our world, both watched as their chosen champions clashed. Their ideals of balance and change were twisted into justifications for destruction.”

Eli fell silent, the weight of her words sinking in. The quiet that followed wasn’t awkward this time—it felt heavy, like the forest itself was listening.

As they continued walking, his HUD pulsed faintly, catching his attention. His compass and inventory icons flickered with soft light, drawing his focus. Curiosity piqued, Eli focused on the inventory icon. It opened with a faint glow, revealing the Traveler’s Stone sitting within. The glow from the stone pulsed in rhythm with his steps.

He hesitated before reaching into the HUD’s interface and retrieving the stone. As it materialized in his hand, the HUD displayed a new message:

[Traveler’s Stone]

Mana Rank: Unknown

Attuned to: Eli Thompson

Current Status: Active

Mode: Guidance

Guidance Location: Heart Spring of Caelum

The Traveler’s Stone has connected to the Heart Spring, you can now activate this with your internal map. This will highlight The Heart Spring of Caelum on your map, giving you a guide. If accepted The Traveler’s Stone will dissolve and join your active map.

Activate and Combine [ Yes / No ]

Eli held up the stone and asked Alira, “So my super mana brain is asking me if I want to combine the stone and my map to allow it to guide me to the Heart Spring, good idea?” Alira took a moment to think and nodded her head, “The Traveler’s Stone is supposed to guide the user, so this makes as much sense with your mana as it does anything else I have heard today.”

Eli shrugged and focused on the “Yes”. As soon as he did his HUD flashed purple and the Traveler’s Stone began to dissolve directly into his hand. Eli began to panic and tried to shake the stone off his hand but it didn’t move and after a few seconds was completely absorbed into his hand. “What in the f….” The HUD flashed again purple and the compass icon glowed a brighter purple. Eli focused on the icon and it opened to the globe but then zoomed into his location and showed his location and a glowing dot in the mist that was in their current direction.

“Umm…” Eli croaked out… “I guess that worked…we go this way.” Eli pointing in the same direction they were already walking.

Alira was grinning as she studied Eli, “For someone that has never seen or used mana, you seem to adapt to it well.” Eli frowned “Adapt? If you mean panicking and flailing like a lunatic, sure. Adapting.”

She smiled and motioned for him to follow. “Come, then. We have a destination to reach.”

As the path narrowed and the forest grew denser, Alira resumed explaining the Great War, her tone steady.

The path was getting narrower with overgrown branches as Eli was trailing behind Alira. He had started to notice the branches seemed to be slowly “growing” towards the path on both sides. Alira was in the middle of her explaining how the Great War spanned over few decades with it slowly building into the World War it became when the earth trembled beneath Eli’s feet.

Eli stumbled back as glowing roots surged across the path, blocking the way forward. The air crackled with mana, and Eli swore he could see sparks flitting through the leaves and branches.

“Uh… is this normal?”

Alira didn’t seem concerned. She knelt beside the roots, placing her hands gently against the vines. “This is residual mana. The war left behind fragments of it that sometimes surface. It’s harmless, but it can be stubborn.”

Eli crossed his arms. “Okay, but how do we get through?”

“Watch.” Alira pressed her palms against the roots and exhaled slowly. The faint blue glow in her hands seeped into the vines, and they unraveled like silk.

Eli blinked. “Right. That’s not intimidating at all.”

Alira stepped aside. “Would you like to try?”

Eli crouched down, mimicking her movements. He pressed his hands to the roots and closed his eyes. Nothing happened.

Alira stifled a laugh. “It helps if you breathe.”

Eli scowled, pulling his hands away. “Magic isn’t exactly my thing.”

“Not yet,” Alira said gently.

As the vines receded, Eli stood and dusted off his hands. The compass icon glowed as if telling him this is the correct direction.

And somewhere, in the distant shadows of the Ash Forest, unseen eyes watched as they walked deeper into Caelum’s heart.