The walk back to the village felt longer than usual.
The air had gone still — not peaceful, but expectant. Every sound, from the crunch of their boots to the rustle of the branches, echoed louder than it should have.
Alaric's staff tapped softly against his shoulder as he walked beside Ashen, who, as usual, moved in silence. The boy's legs ached, and his hair was still dusted with dirt and dried moss from when the roots had almost flattened him.
"You know," Alaric muttered, breaking the quiet, "next time something starts glowing and breathing, we should just… walk the other way."
Ashen didn't glance at him. "You would have followed it regardless."
"Yeah, but it's the principle of it."
"You don't follow principles," Ashen said.
"Exactly!" Alaric said proudly, then paused. "Wait, that sounded like an insult."
"It was."
Alaric sighed. "You really need to work on your delivery."
"I believe it's fine as is."
Alaric groaned under his breath but couldn't help the small grin tugging at his lips. For all of Ashen's stiffness, the undead had a way of grounding him. After everything they'd seen, that quiet stability was… comforting.
Still, as they reached the forest's edge, Alaric glanced back. The trees stood still now — no glow, no pulse, just silence. But he could still feel something faint. Like a sleeping giant beneath the soil, breathing deep.
It wasn't over. He knew it.
The village came into view soon after — smoke rising from chimneys, faint voices drifting through the air.
People were already gathered near the well. When they saw Alaric and Ashen, the murmur spread fast.
"They're back."
"Did they go into the forest again?"
"Something's wrong… I felt the ground shake."
By the time they reached the square, half the village was watching.
Ryn broke through the crowd first, panting, a wooden sword still in his hand. "Alaric! You—" He stopped, blinking at the dirt and scratches covering him. "What did you do this time?"
Alaric raised both hands defensively. "Okay, first off, I didn't start it. The forest started it."
Ryn's brows furrowed. "That doesn't make sense!"
"Neither did the talking fog, but here we are."
The chatter around them grew louder until Kael's voice cut through it, sharp and commanding. "Quiet!"
The hunters fell silent almost immediately. Kael's expression was unreadable as he stepped forward. "Explain."
Alaric hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh… so, long story short, the forest is alive."
Kael's eyebrow twitched. "Alive."
"Like, really alive," Alaric said. "It… woke up for a bit. There was this huge glowing tree, and—"
"You went inside the forest again?" Kael interrupted, his tone flat and dangerous.
Alaric smiled weakly. "It sounded less bad in my head."
Ashen stepped in smoothly before Kael could lecture further. "There was a disturbance," he said calmly. "Mana was unstable in the western ridge. If we hadn't intervened, it might have spread toward the village."
Kael's frown deepened. "Spread how?"
Ashen looked toward the forest. "Corruption. Growth. Perhaps both."
That quieted the crowd immediately.
The Elder approached then, leaning heavily on his cane. His eyes — old but sharp — studied the two of them closely. "You've seen it before, haven't you?" he asked.
Ashen inclined his head slightly. "We have."
"Then it's as I feared." The Elder turned toward the gathered villagers. "The forest's core is stirring again."
A ripple of fear spread through the crowd.
"The forest has a core?" Ryn whispered, wide-eyed.
"Every living thing does," the Elder said. "Even something as vast as this. But it has slept for centuries… until now."
Alaric frowned. "And it's waking up because…?"
The Elder's gaze settled on him. "That's what we must learn."
Alaric suddenly wished he hadn't asked.
The meeting stretched into the afternoon.
They gathered in the Elder's hut — a small, circular space filled with herbs, maps, and flickering candles. The air smelled faintly of smoke and moss.
Ashen stood near the door, silent as always. Alaric sat cross-legged on the floor, fidgeting with the edge of his cloak as Kael and the Elder talked.
"The forest tremors you felt," Kael said, "weren't natural. I felt them even in the training fields. Something deep beneath is moving."
The Elder nodded slowly. "A shift in the ley lines, perhaps. The forest's heart is reacting to the balance of mana."
"Balance?" Alaric asked.
"Life and death," the Elder said. "Two forces that hold the world together. Disturb one too deeply, and the other rises to match it."
Alaric blinked. "So… the forest got mad because of me?"
The Elder's eyes softened. "Not mad. Aware. You hold both within you — life and death. The forest may simply be… responding."
"Responding? It almost ate us!"
Ashen's quiet voice broke the tension. "If it meant harm, it would have attacked outright. It was testing him."
Alaric turned toward him, startled. "Testing?"
Ashen met his gaze. "Yes. To see if you're part of its balance… or its threat."
The room fell silent. Even the candles seemed to flicker weaker.
The Elder closed his eyes, murmuring something under his breath — a prayer, maybe. When he spoke again, his voice was steady but heavy. "Then the forest knows him. And if that's true, our peace will not last long."
Alaric's throat went dry. "So what do we do?"
The Elder looked up at Ashen. "We prepare."
Ashen gave a slight nod. "Understood."
Alaric groaned quietly. "You guys have a scary way of saying 'no rest ever.'"
Ashen's eyes flicked to him, the faintest amusement in his tone. "You dislike rest as much as work."
"Hey, that's different."
"How so?"
"I like the idea of rest, not the part where people make me do things."
Kael pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're impossible."
"Thanks," Alaric said cheerfully.
The Elder exhaled through his nose. "Joking aside… keep watch. If the forest's rhythm grows stronger again, we must be ready."
Ashen bowed his head slightly. "We'll monitor it."
"Good," the Elder said softly. "Because whatever stirs beneath those roots… remembers us all."
The next morning came with a mist that refused to lift.
The village looked softer, quieter — but not peaceful. The air was heavy, carrying that strange feeling that something was watching from beneath the ground.
Alaric rubbed his eyes and yawned wide enough to make Ryn laugh.
"Did you even sleep?" the boy asked.
"Define sleep," Alaric muttered, dragging his staff along the ground. "If you mean 'lay awake thinking about glowing trees,' then yeah. Slept great."
Ryn grinned. "You worry too much."
"Says the guy who once screamed because a frog jumped at him."
"It was huge!"
"Uh-huh." Alaric smirked, though his eyes still wandered toward the forest line. The mist clung thick around the trees, pale like ash. Something about it felt wrong — like the forest was hiding itself.
Ashen had gone to speak with Kael and the hunters, leaving Alaric under orders to "observe the perimeter." Which, in Ashen's terms, meant "don't do anything stupid."
Naturally, that only made Alaric want to do something stupid.
"Come on," he said, nudging Ryn with his elbow. "Let's go check the western ridge."
Ryn's eyes widened. "Wait, the Elder said not to—"
"Exactly. Which means it's probably important."
"You're impossible."
"I know. It's my charm."
Ryn groaned but followed anyway.
The forest greeted them with silence.
Birds were absent, the air still. The ground underfoot was soft with damp leaves, and faint trails of mana shimmered between roots — thin as threads of silver.
Alaric crouched near one, tracing a glowing line with his finger. "It's thicker here than yesterday."
"You can tell?"
"Yeah," Alaric said, squinting. "It's like the forest's veins. You can feel it if you listen close enough."
Ryn looked uneasy. "That's creepy."
"Kind of," Alaric agreed. "But also… beautiful."
He closed his eyes for a moment. The mana pulsed faintly against his skin — not hostile, not calm. Just alive.
Then he heard it — a faint hum, like a distant heartbeat under the soil.
He froze.
"Ryn… do you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
Alaric opened his eyes. The sound was gone. The forest had gone perfectly still again.
"...Never mind," he muttered.
"You're being weird."
"I'm always weird."
"Fair point."
They kept moving. The deeper they went, the denser the fog became. Trees loomed like tall, watching figures, their roots twisting like veins under the ground.
Ryn shivered. "Feels like we're being followed."
Alaric stopped and glanced around. "We are."
Ryn jumped. "What—what do you mean we are?!"
Alaric pointed lazily to the right. "Ashen's been tailing us for ten minutes."
Sure enough, a faint silhouette lingered behind the mist — tall, motionless, and too graceful to be human.
Ryn groaned. "He's terrifying."
"He's just protective," Alaric said, smiling faintly. "Also terrifying, but that's part of the package."
Ashen didn't approach or call out — he simply stood watch, a silent guardian ensuring they didn't vanish into the mist.
The ridge wasn't far now — a sloping rise covered in tangled roots. When they reached the top, Alaric froze.
Below them lay a clearing that hadn't been there before. The ground had split open, exposing black soil that shimmered faintly with greenish light.
Ryn whispered, "What… is that?"
Alaric knelt near the edge, eyes narrowing. "Roots. Hundreds of them."
The roots moved — just slightly — as if breathing.
Every instinct screamed at him to back away. But curiosity, as usual, won.
He extended his hand and let a faint pulse of life mana drift forward. The glow touched the roots—
—and the earth shivered.
The mana threads flared bright, racing through the soil like fire. Ryn stumbled back with a shout.
"Alaric! Stop! You're making it worse!"
"I'm trying to stop it!" Alaric yelled, though his focus stayed locked on the roots. The energy was wild, hungry — not evil, just unrestrained. It reached for his magic like a starving thing.
He cut the connection instantly, panting. The ground stilled.
Ryn's voice trembled. "That… that thing reacted to you."
Alaric nodded slowly. "Yeah. Just like before."
Ashen appeared behind them then, silent as the fog. His eyes glowed faintly under the shadow of his hood. "You were told to observe."
Alaric winced. "Technically, I observed that it's dangerous."
"You provoked it."
"Details."
Ashen's gaze shifted to the glowing fissure. The faintest frown creased his expression — rare, and worrying. "The forest's heart is closer to the surface than we thought."
"The heart?" Ryn echoed.
"Where life and death meet," Ashen said softly. "A core of mana that sustains everything within the forest."
Ryn looked like he wanted to run. "That sounds… bad."
"It's worse if it breaks."
Alaric exhaled, lowering his staff. "So what now?"
Ashen's tone was calm, but there was a faint undercurrent of tension. "Now, we seal this place before others find it. The forest reacts to mana — the more who know, the stronger it will stir."
Alaric blinked. "Wait, we can seal the forest?"
Ashen met his gaze. "We can try."
It took hours.
Ashen drew a wide circle around the fissure using symbols Alaric didn't recognize — thin, looping marks that shimmered faintly in the air. Alaric assisted where he could, placing small stones infused with his own mana into the grooves.
When they finished, Ashen pressed a hand to the earth. The symbols lit up, one by one, until the light folded inward and vanished.
The hum beneath the soil faded.
Ryn exhaled shakily. "That… worked?"
"For now," Ashen said.
Alaric stared at the sealed ground, uneasy. "It didn't feel like it wanted to hurt us. Just… reach us."
Ashen's silver eyes flicked to him. "Curiosity can still destroy."
Alaric sighed. "That's fair."
They began the walk back down the ridge. The mist had started to thin, sunlight breaking faintly through the treetops. But Alaric couldn't shake the feeling that something below was still awake — still listening.
And this time, it knew his name.
That night, the forest didn't rest.
Even after the mist cleared and the moonlight spilled across the trees, the air felt wrong — too still, too aware. It was as if the forest was listening back.
Alaric lay inside the small hut the villagers had built for him and Ashen. The room was dim, the faint glow of a moss lamp flickering against the walls. Ryn had long since fallen asleep on the other bed, his snores steady and soft.
But Alaric couldn't sleep.
His golden eyes stared at the ceiling, tracing patterns in the faint cracks of wood.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the glowing fissure — those roots shifting like veins, that pulse reaching toward him.
"Ugh," he groaned softly, covering his face with both hands. "Stupid forest. Can't even let me sleep properly."
Ashen sat near the window, motionless in the moonlight. His silver eyes glinted faintly as he turned his head toward Alaric. "You are restless."
"Yeah," Alaric mumbled. "Kinda hard not to be when the ground itself tried to hug me earlier."
"That was not affection," Ashen replied evenly.
"I know," Alaric sighed, "but still… it felt like it knew me."
Ashen didn't answer immediately. He looked out toward the forest, where pale fog still drifted between the trees like breath.
After a moment, he said quietly, "The forest responds to what it recognizes. Your mana—life and death intertwined—is rare. It's possible the forest mistook you for one of its own."
Alaric turned his head, staring at him. "One of its own?"
Ashen finally met his gaze. "The ruins we lived in—the ones deep beneath the roots—they were part of a larger temple complex. If this forest grew from that, then perhaps your mana… belongs here."
Alaric blinked. "So I'm, what, forest royalty now?"
Ashen didn't react to the joke. "It may not be a gift. The forest remembers balance. It could see you as a correction… or a threat."
The weight of his words lingered in the quiet room.
Alaric exhaled and sat up slowly. "You always know how to make bedtime stories sound terrifying."
Ashen's expression didn't change, but his gaze softened. "Sleep, Alaric. I will keep watch."
"Yeah," Alaric muttered, lying back down. "You always do…"
But sleep didn't bring peace.
It brought whispers.
Faint, distant—like the rustle of leaves underwater.
He stood in darkness, surrounded by roots that glowed with soft green light. The same fissure from before yawned open before him, pulsing faintly.
"Who are you?" he whispered.
The forest answered—not with words, but with feeling.
Warmth, hunger, longing. The roots moved slowly, reaching toward him, wrapping gently around his wrist.
He didn't feel fear.
He felt familiarity.
"You know me…" he murmured. "Don't you?"
A sound followed—a low, rhythmic hum that echoed through the ground. It wasn't malevolent. It was sad.
Then, a faint shape emerged within the roots—something like a figure, or maybe a memory. He couldn't tell. Its voice was barely there, carried on the wind.
"Return… balance…"
Alaric reached out, his hand trembling. "Balance…?"
The roots surged forward suddenly—grasping, wrapping around his arm—
—and he woke up gasping.
His body was slick with sweat. The lamp had burned out, and the hut was dim save for faint moonlight spilling through the cracks.
Ashen was already there, crouched beside the bed.
His pale hand hovered near Alaric's shoulder. "You called out," he said quietly. "What did you see?"
Alaric's breath came fast, uneven. "It was the forest… I think. It was trying to talk to me."
"Talk?"
"Yeah." Alaric sat up, clutching his knees. "It didn't feel angry. Just… desperate."
Ashen's eyes narrowed faintly. "Desperation is dangerous. It drives even the purest things to corruption."
Alaric looked down, his snow-white hair falling over his face. "I don't think it's corrupted yet. It feels… like it's trying to hold on."
He glanced up at Ashen, golden eyes serious. "If the forest breaks, everything around us will die, won't it?"
Ashen hesitated. "…Yes."
"Then we can't just seal it and hope it goes away," Alaric said firmly. "If it's alive, we have to understand it."
Ashen's expression flickered, almost like he wanted to argue. But then, he sighed—soft, human, tired. "You truly are reckless."
"I prefer 'curious,'" Alaric said, though his grin was small and shaky. "Reckless makes me sound like an idiot."
Ashen's lips curved faintly—not a smile, but close. "You are both."
"Thanks, zombie dad."
Ashen's hand stilled mid-motion, his silver gaze snapping to Alaric. "What did you just call me?"
"Nothing," Alaric said quickly, rolling over and pulling the blanket over his head. "Goodnight!"
A long silence followed.
Then, very quietly, Ashen said, "I will let that pass… this once."
Alaric smirked under the blanket. "Totally worth it."
Later, when even Ryn stirred in his sleep, Ashen stood again by the window.
The forest beyond was silent, the mist thinning under moonlight. Yet deep within the trees, faint green pulses flickered — like a slow heartbeat echoing through the soil.
Ashen's eyes narrowed.
He could feel it now too — that pull of mana, the rhythm of life and death colliding in uneasy harmony. It was faint, but real. And growing.
His hand went to his chest — where no heart should beat. For a moment, he thought he felt one anyway.
The forest's whisper lingered faintly in his mind.
"Return balance…"
He closed his eyes.
"...If only it were that simple."
The wind rustled softly through the hut's wooden walls, carrying with it the faint scent of soil and old stone — the same scent from the ruins where everything began.
And beneath the quiet surface of the forest floor, the roots stirred once more.
Waiting.