Aelric moved slowly through the dense forest, his body aching with every step. His muscles felt heavy, and the dull throb of his wounds hadn’t fully subsided. The rain had long since stopped, but the ground beneath his feet was still slick, each step sinking slightly into the wet earth. The air was cool and carried a hint of moisture, but the overcast sky gave little comfort as it blocked most of the sun’s warmth.

His stomach growled loudly, a painful reminder of the hunger gnawing at him. He hadn’t eaten in days, and the few berries he had found earlier had done little to quell the emptiness inside him. His thoughts were clouded, the fatigue weighing down on his mind like a heavy fog. Despite his desperate need for rest, Aelric forced himself to keep moving. The forest stretched endlessly in every direction, and the overwhelming sense of isolation made him uneasy.

“Just a little farther,” he muttered to himself, though he had no idea where he was headed.

The trees loomed overhead like sentinels, their branches swaying gently in the breeze, casting long shadows on the forest floor. The stillness of the forest was unnerving; aside from the occasional rustling of leaves, it was eerily quiet. The silence pressed in on him, heightening his awareness of how alone he was. Each sound seemed magnified—the crunch of his boots against the wet ground, the creak of a branch, even his own breathing sounded loud in the heavy stillness.

Aelric’s mind wandered as he trudged through the underbrush. His thoughts drifted back to Delsworth, to the people he had left behind. Calder’s face flashed in his mind, followed by the sharp memory of their fight and the way Aelric’s magic had flared in that moment of desperation. Guilt weighed heavily on his heart, and he clenched his fists, trying to push the memories away. There was no time for regret now.

The faint sound of trickling water pulled him from his thoughts. Aelric quickened his pace, his body aching with each step as he followed the sound. After a few minutes, he reached a small stream, its clear water winding its way through the trees. Kneeling beside it, he cupped his hands and drank deeply, savoring the cool liquid as it soothed his parched throat.

As he knelt by the water’s edge, Aelric’s gaze drifted across the stream to something unusual—something that didn’t belong in the natural landscape of the forest. Just beyond the stream, half-hidden by thick vines and moss, stood a series of stone pillars. The stones were worn and weathered, their surfaces etched with strange carvings that were barely visible beneath the overgrowth. Aelric stood, curiosity replacing his fatigue as he made his way toward the ruins.

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The stones formed a loose circle, and though the carvings were faded with time, they held a strange, ancient power. Aelric knelt beside one of the stones, running his fingers over the rough surface, tracing the worn symbols. His heart quickened as he tried to make sense of the markings, but they were unlike anything he had seen before.

“What is this place…?” Aelric muttered under his breath, his brow furrowing in concentration.

The forest around him seemed to shift, the air growing thick with tension. Aelric felt a strange sensation creeping over him, as if the very ground beneath his feet was alive with an energy that had long been dormant. His hand instinctively went to the Emberstone Amulet hanging from his neck, its warmth pulsing faintly against his skin.

He stood, looking around the ancient ruins, his mind racing with questions. Who had built this place? And why had it been left to rot in the heart of the forest? As he walked slowly around the stone circle, his eyes caught sight of something else—a rectangular stone slab, partially buried in the dirt near one of the pillars. Aelric crouched down, brushing away the leaves and soil to reveal intricate carvings on the slab, far more detailed than those on the standing stones.

The markings told a story, though Aelric couldn’t fully understand their meaning. There were depictions of figures, their hands raised toward the sky, surrounded by swirling lines that resembled fire or light. It was as if the slab was documenting some long-lost ritual or battle—something connected to magic.

A sharp rustling from the trees behind him sent a jolt of panic through Aelric. He shot to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest as he turned to face the forest. The shadows between the trees seemed to shift unnaturally, and though he saw nothing, a deep sense of unease crept over him. His grip tightened on the Emberstone Amulet, willing his magic to respond, but there was barely a flicker of energy within him. His mana reserves were dangerously low, and he wasn’t sure he could defend himself if it came to that.

The rustling grew louder, closer.

Aelric’s instincts screamed at him to run. Without a second thought, he turned and sprinted away from the ruins, his feet pounding against the wet ground as he fled into the forest. His breath came in short, ragged bursts, his lungs burning as he pushed himself to move faster. The trees blurred around him, and the shadows seemed to stretch and twist in the corners of his vision.

He didn’t stop until he reached a small clearing, collapsing to the ground as his legs gave out beneath him. His body was drenched in sweat, his muscles trembling from the exertion. For several moments, Aelric lay there, gasping for breath, his heart still racing in his chest.

The forest was quiet again, but the oppressive weight of the ruins lingered in his mind. Something had been watching him—he was certain of it. He forced himself to sit up, glancing around the clearing, half-expecting to see eyes staring back at him from the shadows.

Aelric leaned back against a nearby tree, exhaustion washing over him. He had escaped whatever had been in the forest for now, but the lingering presence of the ruins left him with more questions than answers.