Deep within the dense, twilight-cloaked woods, the air grew thick with the heavy scent of damp earth and aged oak. The camp lay a short distance behind them, its soft flickering firelight muffled by the towering pines. Here, under the endless indigo canopy, the silence was absolute—broken only by the quiet rustle of night leaves in the mountain breeze. Eryx stepped onto a mossy clearing, his silver hair catching the dim starlight. He stopped, his sharp silhouette standing rigid and imposing against the dark forest backdrop. Beside him, sixteen-year-old Lucas matched his father’s stance, his short silver hair neatly framing a face set with intense focus. "Observe, Lucas," Eryx commanded smoothly, his deep baritone barely above a whisper. The High Guardian raised his right hand, extending two fingers toward a withered, dead oak tree looming nearly fifty yards away. The tree was a massive husk of twisted wood, devoid of leaves, standing as a bleak monument amidst the living greenery.
Last Updated : 2026-09-02 Read more