Chapter 6 – The Forest Beneath the Crown
The light swallowed everything.
It wasn't the blinding gold of the altar's awakening, but a softer radiance—warm, like sunlight filtered through leaves. When it faded, I found myself standing in a place that didn't feel real at all.
The air shimmered faintly, carrying the scent of rain and old magic. We were no longer in the ruined chamber. Instead, we stood at the edge of a vast glade, where trees rose like cathedrals—roots twisting into arches, branches heavy with blossoms that glowed faintly in the dim light.
At the center of it all stood a lake, still as glass. In its reflection, I could see the stars, though no sky hung above us.
The boy—Kael—exhaled slowly, lowering his blade. "The Heart's memory realm," he said. "It's been sealed for centuries."
"Memory realm?" My voice sounded small here, almost hesitant.
He nodded. "The Heart remembers everything tied to its bloodline. If it's opened for you, it means there's something you're meant to see."
I stepped closer to the water's edge. Ripples formed beneath my reflection, distorting the image until it wasn't mine at all. Another face looked back—older, regal, framed by a crown of woven branches.
Her lips moved, though I heard no sound. Then the surface broke apart, and the world shifted again.
Suddenly, I was standing in a hall of stone and ivy, the air alive with song and firelight. People in emerald robes and silver armor filled the space, their laughter bright and clear. It felt familiar—achingly so.
A voice spoke from beside me. "This was Lysara, before the fall."
Kael stood nearby, his expression unreadable.
I turned slowly, taking it all in—the tapestries, the golden sigils carved into the walls, the great tree growing through the center of the hall, its roots threading through the marble floor.
Then the music changed. The warmth bled away. Shadows spread like ink across the walls.
Screams followed.
The vision warped—the hall burned, the people vanished, and the tree at the center began to wither. At its roots, a figure cloaked in darkness raised a hand wreathed in blue fire—the same hue as the Nightfangs' attack.
"The Shadow," Kael whispered. "It began here."
The crowned woman appeared again, her voice clear this time. If the Heart fails, the forest dies. If the heir forgets, the line ends.
The memory trembled, then shattered like glass.
I gasped, stumbling back into the present—the glade, the still lake, the silence. My pulse raced. "She… she was warning me."
Kael nodded grimly. "The Shadow isn't gone. It survived—buried in the roots of the world. The Nightfangs serve it."
My throat tightened. "Then this isn't just about me."
"No," he said. "It never was."
Before I could respond, the lake began to glow again—its light shifting from silver to deep amber. A shape rose from beneath the surface, water streaming from its form. It wasn't human. It was something older.
The creature's body shimmered with scales of gold and green, its eyes like molten light. When it spoke, its voice echoed through the glade and inside my chest.
Heir of Lysara… the forest remembers you.
I dropped to one knee, the air crackling around me. Kael's hand hovered near his sword, though even he seemed unsure whether to fight or bow.
"What—what are you?" I whispered.
Guardian, it said. Bound to the Heart until the heir returns. But the bond is weak. The Shadow spreads once more.
It turned its gaze toward Kael. And you, child of steel and ruin—you walk with her. Will you bear the cost?
Kael hesitated only a moment. "If it means saving the Heart, yes."
The Guardian studied him for a long moment, then dipped its head. Then both shall carry the mark.
Light leapt from its eyes, striking us both. I felt it burn through my chest—searing but not painful—like a heartbeat syncing with my own. Kael winced, clutching his shoulder, where a faint sigil now glowed beneath his armor.
When the light faded, the Guardian's voice softened. Follow the roots to the Waking Grove. There, the Heart will show you what remains of Lysara… and what must be restored.
The lake began to dim, the creature's form dissolving into mist.
Kael looked at me, the golden mark still pulsing faintly on my skin. "You're bound to it now."
"So are you."
He gave a short, breathless laugh. "Guess that makes us both cursed."
I looked toward the far end of the glade, where a narrow path of light was beginning to form—descending deeper beneath the earth.
"Not cursed," I said quietly. "Chosen."
The ground trembled again, and somewhere far above, I thought I heard the faint, distant cry of the forest—half warning, half plea.
Kael drew his blade once more. "Then let's not keep destiny waiting."
We stepped forward, and the light swallowed us again—into the roots, into the memory, into whatever truth still slept beneath the crown.