Beyond Worlds, Beneath the Star God

The prairie faded behind them, swallowed by thick fog and crooked trees. The Whispering Woods lived up to its name—every gust of wind seemed to carry a voice, every rustle of leaves a warning.

Elira kept a firm grip on her blade, her expression tight. "This forest... it's like stepping into a memory that isn't yours."

Kun looked around cautiously. "It's not just memory. Something's alive in the air. It's watching."

Master Orlan huffed behind them, using his staff like a walking stick. "Of course it's watching. The trees here were once part of the Sylvan Network, a sentient forest bound to ancient magic. After the collapse of the Elunari Age, most of it went dormant... but not this place."

Kun frowned. The flame in his chest—the Starfire—had started to throb softly ever since they entered. It wasn't painful, but insistent. Like a heartbeat that wasn't his. He brushed his fingers over the glowing mark on his forearm, and the forest reacted—trees subtly shifted, branches parted to let them through.

"I think it's showing us the way," he said.

Orlan squinted. "Or luring us."

They followed the trail deeper into the woods, where light barely touched the moss-covered ground. Strange blue fungi glowed faintly, illuminating patches of the forest floor. Insects buzzed, but not naturally—they sounded like they were whispering secrets in a language no one should hear.

Suddenly, the ground trembled.

Elira was the first to draw her sword. "Something's coming."

The trees began to groan and twist. Roots tore from the ground, not in decay—but as if preparing to rise.

"Not something," Kun said softly. "Someone."

A figure stepped into view—tall, elegant, cloaked in a gown woven of vines and shimmering mist. Her face was beautiful yet inhuman. Eyes like twin galaxies stared through them.

"I am Neralyn, Seer of the Sylvan Vow," she said, her voice echoing in their minds more than in their ears. "And you, flamebearer... you walk with power not meant for this world."

Elira stepped protectively in front of Kun. "He saved our village. And he's here to stop the Nethershade."

But Neralyn didn't look at her. She looked only at Kun.

"The Covenant has already set foot in this forest. They seek the Root Core, the last surviving heart of Sylvan thought. If corrupted, it will twist this land and awaken the beast slumbering below."

Orlan paled. "The Wyrm of Ael'tharion... it's real?"

"The Wyrm dreams beneath the roots. For now."

Neralyn raised a hand and pressed her palm to Kun's forehead. Instantly, visions flooded him:

A black sun rising over the forest.

Trees turning to ash.

A hooded figure with eyes of void, holding a shard of the Starfire—his Starfire.

Kun gasped and fell to one knee.

"It's him," he whispered. "The one I saw at the crater. The one who called me... brother."

Neralyn knelt beside him. "You must choose, Kun. The Starfire is a blade. It can protect... or destroy. And soon, it will be tested."

Before he could respond, a shriek tore through the woods. Elira spun around, blade at the ready.

From the shadows, they came—figures cloaked in black, faces masked by bone. Members of the Nethershade Covenant, armed with twisted staves and bleeding swords. At least a dozen.

"No more visions," Elira said coldly. "We fight."

Kun stood, Starfire flaring across his arms. "No. We protect."

Orlan's staff lit with radiant blue fire. "About time we shook the dust off."

Neralyn faded into the trees, her final words lingering in Kun's mind:

> "If you fall here, the flame falls with you."

The battle for the Whispering Woods had begun.