Aidan's breath came slow and steady as he moved through the lifeless forest, his every step careful on the brittle, twisted ground. The world around him felt unnatural wrong. The trees loomed like skeletal remains, their blackened trunks gnarled and twisted as if they had been burned but never turned to ash. The air was thick, humid, and smelled of something rotten.
He had been in some of the worst places on Earth war zones, jungles, underground fortresses run by tyrants, but nothing had ever felt quite like this.
He had no idea where he was.
No weapons. No supplies.
Just himself.
His instincts screamed at him to move, to get out of the open. He wasn't sure what was watching him, but he could feel it. Something unseen, hidden among the shadows, lurking beyond the mist-covered trees.
Aidan crouched low, listening.
Silence.
Not a single bird. No rustling of leaves. Not even the sound of the wind.
Just his own heartbeat.
His fingers twitched for the reassuring weight of a weapon, but his holsters were empty. Whatever had happened when he was sucked into that mirror had stripped him of his gear.
He exhaled sharply. He had to focus.
The Forest of Whispers
Aidan kept moving. Every direction looked the same twisted trees and a pale, colorless sky.
Then, a sound.
A faint whisper.
His body tensed. It was distant at first, barely noticeable, but as he stepped forward, it grew louder. Words he couldn't understand slithered through the air, brushing against his mind like ghostly fingers.
He stopped.
The whispers stopped too.
His jaw clenched.
He took another step.
The whispers returned.
Aidan's muscles coiled, ready to react. His senses sharpened, eyes scanning the trees for any sign of movement. The sound wasn't coming from behind him. It wasn't ahead either.
It was all around him.
The hairs on his arms rose.
Then, he saw it.
A figure.
Just at the edge of his vision.
It stood motionless between two dead trees, its body wrapped in a tattered cloak. Its face was hidden in the shadows of a deep hood, but Aidan could feel its gaze boring into him.
He didn't move.
Neither did it.
The whispering grew louder.
Then, the figure tilted its head.
Aidan reacted instantly, stepping back and raising his fists.
The figure didn't follow.
Instead, it faded, dissolving into the mist as if it had never been there at all.
The whispering stopped.
Silence returned.
Aidan's pulse was steady, but his mind raced. He had no idea what he had just encountered, but one thing was certain, he wasn't alone.
He needed answers.
And, more importantly, he needed a weapon.
A Fateful Encounter
Aidan moved cautiously, staying low as he navigated through the endless maze of trees. His sharp eyes caught movement in the distance, another figure, but this one was different.
It wasn't cloaked in mist.
It was human.
Or at least, it looked human.
A man, dressed in ragged armor, knelt beside what looked like a small fire pit. His dark hair was matted with dirt, and his face bore scars of old battles. Aidan couldn't tell if he was friend or foe, but he needed information.
He stepped forward, making just enough noise to announce his presence without startling the man too much.
The man snapped his head up, eyes wild. He reached for a rusted sword at his side, but Aidan raised his hands.
"Not looking for a fight," Aidan said evenly.
The man hesitated, scanning Aidan as if deciding whether to attack. His grip on the sword didn't loosen, but he didn't swing either.
"You're not from here," the man finally said. His voice was hoarse, rough from either exhaustion or long-term suffering.
"No," Aidan replied. "And I need answers."
The man scoffed. "Answers? In this cursed land? You'd be better off looking for a way to die quickly."
Aidan took another step forward. "Where is this place?"
The man exhaled, rubbing his temples. "The Forest of Whispers." He glanced at Aidan. "And if you're lucky, it won't drive you mad before you find a way out."
Aidan crossed his arms. "And where is 'out'?"
The man let out a dry laugh. "You really are new." He jabbed a thumb behind him. "If you want out of this forsaken place, there's only one way, through the Ruins of Elaris. But if you're smart, you won't go there."
"Why?"
The man smirked. "Because they guard it."
Aidan's expression didn't change. "Who?"
The man's eyes darkened. "The Shadowborn."
Aidan had heard plenty of terrifying names in his life. But something about the way the man said it in his voice barely above a whisper, his fingers tightening around his sword told him this wasn't just a fairy tale.
Aidan nodded. "Then I'll need a weapon."
The man studied him again. Then, with a sigh, he pulled a second blade from his belt, a crude, worn dagger. He tossed it to Aidan, who caught it midair.
"That won't do much against them," the man warned.
Aidan inspected the blade. It was chipped, old, barely balanced. Not ideal. But better than nothing.
"It'll do for now," Aidan said.
The man grunted. "Suit yourself."
Aidan twirled the dagger in his hand, feeling its weight. Then he looked back at the man.
"If I get through the ruins… what's on the other side?"
The man hesitated, as if debating whether to answer.
Finally, he said, "If you live, you'll reach the city of Velthar. But don't get your hopes up. Most who enter the ruins never come back."
Aidan's grip on the dagger tightened.
"Then I guess I'll have to be the first."
The man shook his head. "You're either brave or stupid."
Aidan smirked. "A little of both."
The man studied him for a moment longer before finally chuckling. "Well, if you do survive… tell them Kael sent you."
Aidan nodded. "Aidan."
Kael offered a faint smile. "Then may the gods or whatever's left of them have mercy on you."
Aidan turned toward the path ahead.
He wasn't sure what waited for him beyond this cursed forest.
But he wasn't about to sit around and wait to die.
With a final glance at the endless, twisted trees, he took his first step toward the Ruins of Elaris.
Toward whatever lay beyond.
...