The corridors of Velden Academy twisted and turned like the spiraling fate Ken had just signed himself into. The stone walls, though pristine, carried the echoes of generations before him — laughter, cries, battles, betrayals. The place smelled of old magic and newer regrets.
Ken, Riven, Elysia, and Lysa stood awkwardly together, the freshly minted "party" that looked about as cohesive as a bag of stray cats. Riven yawned obnoxiously, earning a sharp look from Elysia, while Lysa leaned against the wall, arms crossed, silent and watching like some crow perched above a battlefield.
"Alright, troops!" Principal Alistair's voice boomed once again, interrupting the awkward silence. The old man marched down the hall, a battered map in hand. His robe fluttered dramatically behind him, as if he thought he was the main character in some opera. Honestly, he kind of was.
"Time for your first trial by stupidity!" he grinned mischievously. "I mean, trial by fire. Same thing, really."
Riven leaned toward Ken, whispering, "I love this crazy old fart."
Ken smirked but said nothing. He wasn't here to love anyone. He was here to win — and to survive.
"You four," Alistair pointed at them with a crooked finger, "are now a provisional squad. Congratulations! Your reward: a little stroll into the Wildwood. Find the relic hidden there, bring it back, and maybe we won't fail you immediately."
Ken stiffened. "Wildwood? Sounds charming."
"Oh, it is," Alistair chuckled. "Full of things that want to murder you and wear your bones as jewelry. Off you go!"
Without waiting for any more protests, he tossed Ken a rough parchment map and walked away whistling.
Riven clapped his hands together. "Welp, I guess it's murder-forest time. You guys ready to die?"
Elysia glared at him. "You're inspiring so much confidence right now."
Lysa, still silent, simply pushed off the wall and started walking toward the Academy gates.
Ken sighed and followed, the others trailing behind. This was it. No more preparation. No more time to question things. Only action.
The Wildwood loomed like a sleeping beast on the Academy's border — black trees clawing at the sky, shadows twisting in the undergrowth. An unnatural cold seeped from it, even though the sun blazed overhead.
They paused at the tree line.
Ken turned to the group. "Alright. Simple rules: Stick together. No heroes. No getting cute."
"Aw, but getting cute is my specialty," Riven pouted dramatically.
Lysa glanced at him with a look of such pure disdain that even Ken felt secondhand embarrassment.
"You sure you want to bring that clown along?" she muttered toward Ken.
Ken shrugged. "He's our clown now."
They entered the Wildwood.
The deeper they went, the more wrong everything felt. It wasn't just dark — it was suffocating. Every snap of a twig, every whisper of the wind sounded like a monster breathing just out of sight.
Ken took point, sword at the ready. Elysia stayed close behind, murmuring soft protective spells under her breath. Riven was scanning the trees like he expected them to start throwing punches, and Lysa… well, Lysa looked ready to burn the whole damn forest down if anyone sneezed wrong.
After what felt like an eternity, they stumbled upon a clearing — and in the center, an old stone altar, vines creeping up its sides. Atop it rested a small, ancient-looking amulet. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.
Ken stepped forward cautiously. "This has trap written all over it."
"No sh*t, Sherlock," Riven muttered.
As Ken reached for the amulet, the ground trembled. A roar shattered the stillness. From the woods burst a creature — half boar, half wolf, all rage. It was huge, its tusks gnarled and dripping with something that definitely wasn't water.
"SCATTER!" Ken shouted.
The team leaped into action. Riven flanked right, drawing the beast's attention by throwing rocks and very creative insults. Lysa summoned a burst of searing fire that singed the monster's flank. Elysia kept her hands glowing, ready to heal.
Ken saw his chance. Heart pounding, he darted toward the altar, grabbed the amulet, and—
BAM!
The beast caught him with a swipe of its massive paw, sending him flying like a rag doll.
Pain exploded through Ken's ribs, but he rolled to his feet, grimacing.
"You okay?!" Elysia cried out.
"Fine," Ken grunted. "Mostly."
Riven dashed past him, hurling a dagger at the creature's eye — it missed by an embarrassing mile but distracted the beast just long enough for Lysa to launch a blast of raw flame directly into its chest. The thing howled in agony and staggered back.
Ken didn't hesitate. Sword flashing, he charged, slashing deep into its side. Riven joined him, hacking wildly. Lysa burned it again. Elysia kept the spells coming, steady as a heartbeat.
Finally, the monster gave one last snarl — then collapsed, shaking the ground.
Silence.
Then: "I think," Riven panted, "I'm gonna throw up."
Ken laughed — real, unfiltered laughter — and for the first time in what felt like years, it didn't taste bitter.
They were battered, bloody, but victorious.
They had done it — together.
Ken looked at them: the cocky rogue, the reluctant healer, the cold-eyed firestarter.
Maybe they could survive this insane place.
Maybe... just maybe... they'd forge something stronger than survival.
A bond.
A brotherhood.
But somewhere, deep in the trees, unseen by them all, something else watched.
Waiting.