Elian set out at dawn, armed with only his wits, a sturdy oak staff, and a satchel of dried fruit. The entrance to the Whispering Woods was dense, with trees that seemed to lean in and whisper secrets that made his head spin.
He remembered the old tales: Do not listen to the
trees, for they feed on doubt
As he traveled deeper, the trees whispered: You are weak, Elian. You are alone. The shadow is too strong.
He remembered the hum of the stone and
anchored his mind to it. He walked for two days,
navigating through, not the forest, but the
memories of the forest. Finally, he reached a
clearing, in the center of which was a statue of a knight holding a briliant, sun-shaped gem.
As he reached for it, the mist converged, forming the figure he saw in his vision—a creature of pure shadow and malice. "The stones belong to the darkness now, boy.