The path through the forest was quiet except for the soft rustle of leaves underfoot and the occasional caw of a distant raven. The air was thick with mist, and the trees loomed like dark sentinels, their twisted branches reaching toward the sky. Arion had never ventured this deep into the woods before; even the villagers considered it a place of ancient magic, where the old ways still lingered.

Lirael moved ahead of him, silent and quick, her eyes scanning the forest as though expecting danger around every corner. Arion couldn’t shake the feeling that she was more than just a simple traveler. Her grace, the way she carried herself, and her knowledge of the prophecy all pointed to something larger—something she wasn’t telling him.

"How far is Lysander?" Arion asked, breaking the long silence.

"Not far," Lirael replied without turning. "Another day, maybe two if the weather turns."

Arion grunted in response, his thoughts turning inward. His mind still buzzed with everything Lirael had told him. A prophecy, a power that had awakened within him, and a world slowly unraveling because of rifts between the realms. He had grown up hearing stories of magic, but they had always felt distant, almost like fairy tales. Now, those stories were becoming his reality.

"Do you know this… Thalric?" Arion asked after a pause.

Lirael nodded. "He’s an expert on the rifts, on the magic that binds the realms. He might seem like just another scholar to most people, but there’s no one in Lysander—or anywhere else—who knows more about the ancient magic. If anyone can help you understand what’s happening, it’s him."

"Ancient magic?" Arion furrowed his brow. "You mean magic like the kind you said I used?"

"Yes," Lirael said. "What you did last night wasn’t ordinary. It wasn’t just the kind of magic that mages use to light fires or create illusions. This was something older, something far more powerful. There are forces in this world, powers that were forgotten long before the first kingdom rose, long before the realms were even divided."

"And you think this magic is tied to the rifts?"

"I know it is," Lirael said, finally slowing her pace and turning to face him. "The rifts are tears in the very fabric of the world. They're caused by the weakening of the ancient magic that once held everything together. Whatever power woke up inside you last night—it’s connected to that magic. And if the rifts are to be closed, you’ll need to understand it."

Arion swallowed, feeling the weight of her words. It was too much to process. He was just a boy from a village, not some ancient warrior destined to stop the destruction of the realms. How could he possibly live up to this?

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

They walked in silence again, the mist growing thicker as the sun climbed higher in the sky, though its light barely penetrated the dense canopy above. Arion's thoughts kept circling back to his home, to the people he had lost. What had happened to him last night? How had he summoned that power?

"Did you always know?" he asked suddenly. "About the prophecy, about me?"

Lirael hesitated, her expression unreadable. "No. I’ve known about the prophecy for years, but I didn’t know it was you until last night. The power you unleashed… it called out."

"Called out?" Arion frowned. "To who?"

Lirael stopped abruptly, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the trees. "Not just to me," she whispered. "Something’s coming."

Before Arion could respond, the forest erupted into chaos. Shadows darted between the trees, swift and silent, and suddenly the undergrowth around them shifted unnaturally, as if the very forest had come alive. Arion drew his sword, the red glow flickering faintly once again.

"They found us," Lirael muttered under her breath, unsheathing twin daggers from her belt. "Stay close."

The first of the creatures appeared from the mist—dark, skeletal figures, their eyes burning with an unnatural blue light. They were like the creatures from the night before, but smaller, more nimble, their long fingers ending in razor-sharp claws that dripped with venomous black ichor.

"What are these things?" Arion shouted, swinging his blade at one of the creatures as it lunged toward him.

"Shadowspawn," Lirael replied, her voice calm despite the danger. "Creatures from the Void Realm. They hunt magic, feed on it."

Arion's sword cleaved through one of the creatures, but instead of falling, it dissolved into black smoke, only to reform a moment later.

"They don’t die easily!" Lirael warned. "You have to use your power!"

"My power? I don’t know how!"

Lirael’s gaze hardened. "You don’t have time to learn. Just feel it. Let the magic flow through you."

Arion gritted his teeth as another Shadowspawn lunged at him. He swung his sword, but this time, he focused on the strange sensation he had felt the night before—the surge of warmth, the fire that had sparked in his chest. As the creature’s claws came within inches of his face, the red light from his sword flared, and a wave of heat exploded from the blade.

The Shadowspawn screeched, dissolving into smoke once more—but this time, it did not reform.

Arion stood, stunned, as the other Shadowspawn hesitated, their glowing eyes now fixed on him.

"That’s it!" Lirael shouted, cutting down another creature with a series of swift strikes. "Keep going!"

But before Arion could respond, the remaining Shadowspawn began to retreat, disappearing into the mist as quickly as they had come. The forest fell silent once again, though the air still crackled with the residue of magic.

Arion lowered his sword, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the magic within him, like a flame that had only just been kindled. But it was wild, untamed. He had no idea how to control it—or what it might do if he lost control.

"Why did they run?" he asked, breathless.

Lirael wiped her daggers clean and sheathed them, her eyes still scanning the forest. "They weren’t here to fight us," she said. "They were testing you. They wanted to see what you could do."

"Testing me?" Arion’s mind reeled. "But why?"

"Because," Lirael said quietly, turning to face him, "something far worse is coming."