Ren moved north, following the faint, disturbed trail left by the Grove Guardian. The land became wilder with each step, as gentle hills gave way to rugged terrain. The trees grew denser, their branches intertwining overhead. This created a dim canopy that filtered the last rays of the setting sun. The air was cooler, filled with the scent of damp earth and ancient wood. This was old growth, a place untouched by the Ash-Kissed Road.
His pace was steady, but his senses were heightened. As he traveled further, the residual Aura of the Guardian grew stronger. It was a raw force that hummed through the ground. It spoke of deep roots and ancient powers. Ren kept his own Aura tightly contained, forming a quiet shield against the overwhelming presence and making him nearly invisible to anything not actively searching for him.
He moved for what felt like another two hours. The moon had become a thin sliver in the sky, casting long, dancing shadows. He felt it now, not just the Guardian's Aura but another energy. It was more subtle, weaving through the Guardian's powerful pulse. This feeling was familiar, one he hadn't expected to find here: Divine Power. Yet, this was not the clean, pure Divine Power of a temple or the focused blessing from a healing rite. This felt wild, almost untamed, like a forgotten river breaking free. It felt… ancient.
Suddenly, the Grove Guardian's Aura pulsed violently ahead. A crash echoed through the trees, followed by a low, guttural roar that reverberated through Ren's bones. He quickened his pace, becoming a silent, grey blur among the shadows.
He came into a small clearing dominated by a towering stone monolith, half-covered in moss and ivy. This was clearly one of the deep Divine Power points the Guardians were bound to. Before it, the Grove Guardian thrashed, its earthen form cracking and groaning. Facing it was a figure.
She was small, her body cloaked in worn, patched leather and dark fabrics that absorbed the moonlight. Her back was turned to Ren, but he could see her hair, a wild cascade of dark curls. She wasn't fighting the Guardian with steel or typical magic. She was weaving, her hands moving with incredible speed, pulling at the ambient Divine Power in the clearing. Little motes of shimmering light, like trapped starlight, danced around her. They formed intricate, glowing symbols in the air that pulsed with soft, warm energy.
Ren realized she was a Channeler of Divine Power. Surprise flickered in his usually calm mind. And she was powerful. Most Channelers connected to specific deities or orders. This woman seemed to draw directly from the untamed essence of the land, coaxing it to her will.
The Guardian roared again, a chunk of its shoulder crumbling. The woman didn't flinch. She completed a series of gestures, and the shimmering symbols flared, coalescing into a net-like barrier of pure, concentrated Divine energy. The barrier slammed into the thrashing Guardian. The creature shuddered, its raw Aura recoiling from the controlled force. It was trying to subdue the Guardian, not destroy it. But why?
Ren stayed hidden, observing. He rarely interfered in situations he didn't fully understand, especially with powerful forces in play. The woman continued her work, her brow furrowed in concentration, a faint glow radiating from her hands. She was skilled, her movements precise, almost like a dance.
Then, he heard it. A soft rustle from the shadows at the edge of the clearing, not from the direction he came. Two figures smaller than the Guardian circled, but they had a different, more predatory Aura. They moved with a low, cautious slink. Night Prowlers. These beasts from the deeper wilds were cunning and vicious. They hunted anything they could corner.
The woman was entirely focused on the Guardian, unaware of the new threat. Ren's mind worked quickly. The Night Prowlers would attack. She was powerful, but engaged. If they caught her off guard, it would be over. He could remain hidden and let nature take its course. After all, he was a shadow.
But the familiar knot in his gut tightened. This wasn't chaos he had stumbled upon; it was danger for someone clearly trying to help.
He made his decision.