The road beyond the fields grew dense and wild. Giant trees loomed overhead, their branches tangled like the fingers of ancient giants. Every breath Arka took was thick with the smell of moss and damp answer
Eryndor led the way without speaking, his heavy steps silent on the forest floor. Arka followed closely, stealing glances at the strange blue glow still pulsing faintly at his chest. He could feel it humming inside him alive, restless.
They soon reached the edge of a forest unlike any Arka had ever seen. The trees here were so tall their tops disappeared into mist. Their trunks twisted unnaturally, forming arches, doorways, and bridges high above the ground. The whole forest seemed to breathe.
"This is the border of Sylvaneth," Eryndor said. His voice had dropped to a near whisper. "The realm of the Elyari the guardians of nature. They will not let you pass freely."
Arka swallowed hard. "And if they refuse?"
"Then your journey ends before it truly begins."
Before he could ask further, a figure stepped from the shadows of the trees a tall, slender being clad in a robe woven from leaves and silver thread. Her skin was pale as moonlight, and her eyes blazed green like emerald fire. Her ears tapered into fine points beneath a crown of vines.
"Eryndor," she said, her voice musical yet sharp. "You bring an Outlander to our sacred woods?"
The dragon inclined his head respectfully. "He bears the Relic. You have seen the signs, Kaelira."
Kaelira's eyes narrowed as she studied Arka. She approached with predatory grace, circling him slowly.
"A child," she murmured. "The fate of worlds resting on the shoulders of a child?"
Arka stiffened, but held his ground.
"I'm not here to threaten you," he said, his voice firmer than he felt. "I don't even understand all of this yet. But I know one thing if something terrible is coming, I won't stand by and do nothing."
A faint smile touched Kaelira's lips, though it did not quite reach her eyes.
"Brave words. But words alone will not save Aetherion."
She turned, beckoning him to follow. The forest opened into a clearing where ancient trees formed a circle, their bark marked with strange glowing runes. In the center stood a pool of perfectly still, black water.
"This is the Mirror of Thorns," Kaelira said. "To earn our trust, you must face what lies within it. Your fears. Your regrets. Your true self."
Eryndor rumbled lowly. "Be warned, Arka. The Mirror does not lie... and it does not show mercy."
Arka felt a shiver run down his spine. Still, he stepped forward, drawn to the water's dark surface. He knelt at the edge, peering in.
At first, he saw nothing but his reflection. Then, slowly, images began to form his father shouting at him, his friends abandoning him, the feeling of never being good enough. The shadows twisted, growing taller, stronger. They whispered to him.
"You're weak."
"You're a mistake."
"You will fail them all."
Arka clenched his fists. The Relic at his chest flared suddenly, casting ripples across the Mirror. The shadows recoiled, shrieking in rage.
"I'm not perfect," Arka said aloud, voice trembling. "But I'm still here. And I won't stop."
The Mirror shattered with a sound like breaking ice. The clearing trembled, and Kaelira's eyes widened in surprise.
"Enough," she said, stepping forward. "You have faced the Mirror and prevailed. The forest accepts you, Relic Bearer."
Arka staggered to his feet, feeling drained but alive.
Kaelira placed a slender hand on his shoulder.
"Welcome to Aetherion, Arka of the Relic. Your true journey... begins now."
And somewhere, far beyond the woods, in the shadowy halls of Umbravale, something stirred in answer.