As the morning sun rose, Lance and Sunflower readied themselves to embark on their journey. Together, they ventured deeper into the lush expanse of the Green Forest, guided by Sunflower's familiarity with the terrain.
"Why is it called the Green Forest?" Lance asked, finding the name somewhat plain.
Sunflower pointed to his right. "Look down."
Lance followed her gesture and spotted a squirrel staring back at him. Its eyes were pitch black, but its fur—and even the nut it held—was a rich, deep green.
Sunflower smirked. "Well, now you know why."
She continued, "Every plant and animal in this forest is green. That's also why it's dangerous—predators blend in too easily. It's hard to spot them, which is why people usually avoid coming here."
Lance's mind drifted back to the green tiger he had once fought in this very forest.
They walked in silence for a while until Sunflower suddenly remembered something. "Oh, right! I forgot to mention—"
"What?" Lance asked, curious.
"You probably don't understand how magic works," she said, watching him shake his head. "I don't fully understand it either, but from what I've seen, you can imagine things into existence. That's... an absurd level of magic."
Lance nodded. "Yeah, but the pain is unbearable."
"Exactly. To reduce that pain—or increase how much you can use your powers—you'll need to train," Sunflower explained.
Before Lance could ask what kind of training she meant, Sunflower suddenly shouted, "We made it!"
He looked ahead and saw light breaking through the trees. As they stepped toward it, a gentle river came into view, flowing calmly. A wooden bridge stretched across it, leading to a dirt pathway.
"We're out of the forest now. This is the main path," she said.
As they crossed the bridge, Lance noticed a wooden sign with an arrow pointing forward. The word "DEWBOUR" was carved into it.
"Our journey will take three days," Sunflower told him, "but don't worry. There are plenty of small villages and towns along the way where we can rest at night."
Lance nodded, and the two continued along the path. As they walked, Sunflower began explaining the training he needed. "For mages, endurance is crucial. You'll need to improve your stamina. That means endurance training, for example—"
She stopped mid-sentence. Both their eyes shifted forward.
Someone was approaching.
Sunflower's keen vision caught the figure first.
A young boy was staggering toward them, his shirt torn and scorched. He wore a brown-dyed helmet with a pair of cracked goggles around his eyes. Blood was smeared across his skin, and his face showed exhaustion and pain.
Strapped to his back was another person—a blonde girl in a matching helmet and goggles. Her condition was worse. Her clothing was burned, her face streaked with blood, and a deep wound marked her chest.
The two parties neared each other in silence. No one spoke. The boy, barely able to walk, forced himself to take another step… and then another… carrying the unconscious girl.
As he passed them, Sunflower broke the silence with a voice that was slow, cold, and solemn.
"She's dead."
The boy froze. His body seemed to give up for a moment… but then, summoning the last of his will, he tried to take another step forward.
His legs buckled. He collapsed to the ground, the girl still on his back.
Pearl Town – State House
Heavy footsteps echoed down the marble hallway of the State House. A man strode with urgency, his pace quick and unwavering. As he reached the grand doors, two guards wielding spears instinctively blocked his path—until they recognized him. Without a word, they stepped aside.
He slammed the door open without knocking.
"Dawson!" he barked, slamming the door shut behind him.
The man had a neatly trimmed brown beard and eyes as green as the deepest parts of the Green Forest. He wore a pristine white uniform adorned with badges on his left chest. This was Bush.
The room he entered was elegant—red carpeted floors, tall windows draped with thick brown curtains, and velvet chairs framed in gold. Behind the dark brown desk sat Dawson, his fingers threading through his black hair, red eyes focused on a map spread before him. A knowing smile tugged at his lips.
"Why, what is it, Bush?" Dawson asked, not looking up.
"You know damn well what this is about!" Bush snapped, stepping forward. "Not only did you cut taxes for Crownshade, but now you're letting one of their men apply to the State? Those people do our dirty work! We can't associate with such lowlife scum!"
Dawson calmly raised a hand, gesturing toward the seat across from him. He poured a glass of water.
"I only authorized him to take the entrance test," he said coolly. "We don't even know if he'll pass."
Bush slammed his fist on the desk. The water glass tipped, spilling its contents across Dawson's map.
"Bullshit! A Crownshade warrior will breeze through those tests—the endurance, the written exam—it won't matter. They're trained for this!"
Dawson picked up a napkin and quietly dabbed the water away, unbothered.
"Not as dumb as I thought," he said with a smirk.
Bush's glare intensified. Dawson continued, "You're right. He probably will pass. But in exchange for this courtesy, Crownshade gave us valuable intel. Not everything comes free, my friend."
Bush leaned in, intrigued. "It better be good."
Dawson opened the drawer to his right and pulled out a rolled-up map. He unrolled it over the desk.
Bush recognized it immediately. "The official map of Vraxen…"
"Now," Dawson said, "guess how many unregistered settlements exist that aren't on this map."
Bush gave it a moment. "Six?"
Dawson shook his head. "Two."
He pointed at a dense area on the map. "Recognize this?"
Bush squinted. "The Green Forest?"
Dawson nodded.
"I remember rumors of a village there," Bush muttered. "But the forest's too dangerous—we never sent troops."
"Exactly." Dawson tapped the map. "Crownshade went in. What they found… Well, let me tell you."
Dawson recounted Rock's story in full.
When he was done, Bush stood slowly, stunned. "Has this been confirmed?"
Dawson glanced at the clock. "It's 7 a.m. My men should have arrived by now."
Green Forest – Perimeter of the Impact Zone
Five figures in State uniforms crouched silently atop a massive tree branch, eyes fixed on a large red meteor embedded in the scorched earth below. The once-green terrain surrounding it had been charred black.
"They seriously think this fell from the sky?" muttered the captain, a blond-haired man with dark, skeptical eyes.
Beside him, a young woman with jet-black hair, large eyes, and a mask covering her mouth turned toward him. "Should we go down and investigate, Captain?"
He gave a brief nod.
The four subordinates—two men and two women, all in the same uniform—descended the tree and approached the meteor. They scoured the area but found no immediate clues.
"Captain!" the black-haired girl called. "Whatever was here is buried deep."
The captain clicked his tongue in frustration. "This is a joke. A meteor, and not a single warning from our astrologers? This smells like another one of Crownshade's wild stories."
He pointed angrily at the meteor. "That damn rock could've been sitting there for centuries! Enough of this nonsense. We should be on real missions—actual duties for State officers."
"But these were Dawson's orders," the black-haired girl replied gently. "And we've traveled for days. Shouldn't we investigate a bit more?"
He sighed, sat down against a tree, and shut his eyes. "Wake me up when you're done."
Time passed. The others continued searching until—
"Captain, wake up!"
He stirred. Two of his subordinates were shaking him.
"Ember found something," said one of the men, pointing toward the meteor.
The captain groaned and stood up, rubbing his head. He approached Ember, the black-haired girl, who was crouched beside a small pit near the impact site.
"What did you find?"
"Over there," she said, pointing into the pit.
He leaned over—and froze.
Half-buried in the earth was a teddy bear, its fur singed, its face barely visible. It was worn and old… and unmistakably out of place.