The sun had barely risen above the canopy when Min Khant Thu Ya, Aren, and their new companion, the Serpent-Dragon in human form—now called Sylas—emerged from the orc stronghold. They were escorted by a few orc warriors and given supplies for their next journey. After the grand audience with the orc king and receiving his blessings, they now had a new mission: seek the heart of the Whispering Forest.
"The Whispering Forest," Aren muttered, glancing down at the crude map sketched on orc parchment. "This place sounds like it has a hundred ways to kill us."
Sylas, walking calmly beside them, gave a small smile. "That's because it does. The forest is ancient. Older than most kingdoms. It doesn't welcome strangers."
"And yet that's where the key to balancing your inner mana lies," Min Khant replied, tightening the strap on his satchel. "If we want to truly cure your condition—not just suppress it temporarily—we'll need to find the Heart of Verdalis."
The group set off, leaving the craggy mountains behind. The terrain changed gradually—rocky paths gave way to damp soil, and the trees grew denser, taller, whispering among themselves as if gossiping about the intruders who dared walk their sacred ground.
Hours passed. Sunlight filtered through thick branches in patches, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The further they walked, the more unnatural the silence became. No birds chirped. No wind rustled the leaves. Just the sound of their boots on fallen twigs and Sylas's calm breath.
Aren kept glancing over his shoulder. "I don't like this."
"You're not supposed to," Sylas said, his golden eyes scanning the shadows. "The forest senses us. It's watching."
Min Khant stopped walking and knelt beside a strange vine coiled around a tree. The vine was pulsing slowly… like it was breathing. "This forest is alive. Not in the usual sense. It's sentient."
"Correct," Sylas said. "This is where Verdalis once rooted itself. It's the last remnant of the World Tree's first sapling. What's left of its consciousness still lingers."
"And it knows we're coming," Min Khant whispered.
They pressed on, deeper into the forest. Strange visions began to swirl at the corners of their eyes—fleeting images, whispers in the wind, and the haunting feeling of being followed. At one point, Aren swore he saw his dead father staring at him from between two trees.
"You saw it too?" Min Khant asked quietly.
Aren nodded, face pale. "He looked… disappointed."
"It's testing us. The forest uses memories, regrets, fears—it's all part of the trial."
"But why test us?" Aren asked.
Sylas stopped walking and turned to face them both. "Because the Heart of Verdalis is not simply a cure. It's a power—one that can cleanse corruption, but also tempt it. If you seek it, you must prove yourself worthy. Or the forest will claim you."
They moved on in silence, every step feeling heavier. Time warped in the forest. It felt like they walked for hours, though the sun never seemed to move in the sky. Hunger gnawed at their bellies. Sleep tugged at their eyes. The forest sapped more than strength—it drained will.
When they could walk no more, they camped by a small, shimmering pool. The water glowed faintly, and though it looked pure, Sylas warned them not to drink. "The forest's beauty hides its poison."
As night fell, Min Khant sat by the edge of the pool, staring into the water's shimmering surface. The reflection wasn't his own. It showed a version of him—regal, clad in black and gold, a cruel smirk twisting his lips as he ordered soldiers to burn a village.
He shuddered.
"That's not me," he murmured.
"But it could be," the reflection answered. "All it takes is a different choice."
Min Khant stood abruptly, heart pounding. "Aren," he called. "Wake up."
Aren stirred, rubbing his eyes. "What is it?"
"We're not safe here. Not even in our own minds."
Sylas opened his eyes, having not slept at all. "You saw something, didn't you?"
Min Khant nodded. "The forest showed me a version of myself I swore I'd never become. It's trying to weaken us from the inside."
Sylas stood as well, brushing off his robes. "Then it's time to stop playing defense. If we wait too long, the forest will eat away at our resolve. We need to reach the Heart before it buries us in illusions."
They pressed forward again, their pace quicker, urgency in every step. The deeper they ventured, the stranger the forest became. Trees leaned in close, leaves whispering nonsense, roots slithering like snakes. At one point, a tree bled when Min Khant brushed against it, oozing thick green sap that hissed upon touching the ground.
Then they saw it.
A clearing, bathed in ethereal light, and in its center—a massive tree, towering above all others. Its bark shimmered like silver, and its leaves glowed faintly blue. This was it.
"The Heart of Verdalis," Sylas whispered.
But the moment they stepped into the clearing, the earth shook. A creature rose from the roots of the tree—a guardian.
It was a golem of wood and stone, fused with the magic of the forest. Moss clung to its limbs, and glowing blue runes pulsed across its chest.
"No one approaches the Heart without trial," the creature boomed.
Aren drew his sword. "So be it. What's the trial?"
The golem extended a massive arm, pointing toward Min Khant. "He must walk into the Heart alone. Only one may commune with Verdalis."
"Me?" Min Khant asked, surprised. "But I'm not—"
"You were chosen," the golem interrupted. "Your soul bears the mark of change."
Sylas nodded solemnly. "Go. We'll guard the path."
Min Khant approached the tree, breath shallow, heart racing. As he laid a hand upon its glowing bark, the world dissolved around him, and he fell into darkness.
He stood now in a dreamlike world—a vast, endless field of white light. A voice echoed around him, neither male nor female, but ancient and filled with sorrow.
"You seek balance. But you are unbalanced. You carry the burden of fate not meant to be yours."
"I didn't ask for this life," Min Khant said. "But I'm trying to make the best of it."
"You walk a path that could destroy kingdoms… or save them. Would you still choose it if you knew the pain it would bring?"
"Yes," he answered without hesitation.
The light pulsed gently. "Then receive the gift—and the curse. The burden of the Verdalis shall now be yours."
Energy surged through him—pure, overwhelming, and terrifying. His veins glowed. His eyes burned with green light. He screamed as the power of Verdalis flooded into his soul.
Then silence.
When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the clearing, collapsed at the base of the tree. Sylas and Aren ran to him.
"You're alive," Aren said.
"And changed," Sylas added, eyes narrowing. "Your aura… it's different."
Min Khant stood slowly, breathing heavily. "The forest accepted me. I… I understand now. This power—it's not just to cure or heal. It's to restore. To reclaim what was lost."
Sylas smiled faintly. "Then our path has truly begun."
To Be Continued…