We left the abandoned village behind, but the old man's words followed us, heavy and haunting. The name echoed endlessly in my thoughts, a single word filled with hidden meaning and dire warnings:
Kovan.
My father led us through the dense forest with cautious steps, his sharp eyes scanning each shadow as if expecting another ambush at any moment. Elara walked silently beside me, her expression unreadable, her grip on her bow never loosening.
We were heading toward the Great Academy of Aetheris, a place known only through vague stories passed by travelers who'd once visited our isolated village. According to those stories, it was a grand academy dedicated to understanding mana and the hidden mysteries of the world. But the academy was also leagues away, hidden behind dangerous lands none of us had ever ventured through.
But there was no turning back. We needed answers, and the academy was our only hope.
The Journey's Price
Days blended into one another as we traveled. Each step carried us deeper into lands I had never imagined—vast grasslands stretched into rolling hills, dense forests gave way to jagged cliffs and narrow mountain trails. I knew we were only at the beginning of a long journey, but the fatigue was already setting in, both physically and mentally.
Still, we pressed forward, driven by the urgency of our quest.
Elara walked close beside me, her bow at the ready, constantly scanning the horizon. My father walked ahead, quietly but steadily, his sharp gaze vigilant. None of us spoke much. Words seemed meaningless compared to the weight of the truths we had already uncovered.
A Dangerous Path
On the sixth day of our journey, we reached the edge of a dense forest, darker and older than any we had seen before. The trees were massive, their thick trunks twisting upward into a canopy that blocked out nearly all sunlight. The air beneath was cool, damp, and heavy with the scent of decay.
"We shouldn't linger here," my father warned softly, his voice barely a whisper. "This place feels… wrong."
I agreed silently, my fingers brushing instinctively against my dagger. Mana tingled at my fingertips, reacting to the unsettling aura surrounding us. I knew immediately this wasn't an ordinary forest. This was a place touched by corruption.
As we moved deeper into the trees, it became clear why.
Strange growths covered the trunks of the massive trees—fungi pulsating with a soft, eerie glow. Their colors shifted gently from blue to green, casting an unnatural light across the shadowy forest floor.
Elara paused, her eyes wide as she studied the strange fungi. "Are these… natural?"
My father shook his head grimly. "No. Stay away from them."
But it was already too late.
As we stepped deeper into the darkness, I heard the whispers again. Soft at first, distant, but growing louder with every step we took.
Voices in the Shadows
The whispers grew clearer the deeper we traveled into the forest. They were faint at first, mere echoes brushing against my consciousness, but soon they became impossible to ignore—quiet, twisted voices speaking in a language I didn't recognize yet somehow understood.
"Sylas…" they whispered softly, urgently. "Sylas, come closer."
I froze in place, my heart pounding against my ribs. My father turned sharply, sensing my hesitation. "What is it?"
"I hear them," I said, swallowing. "The whispers. They're… calling my name."
My father's expression darkened, and he stepped closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Don't listen. These woods are dangerous, more dangerous than Aberrations. They feed on your fears, your doubts."
I took a steadying breath. "I know. But it's different this time. It feels… personal."
He hesitated for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Then be careful. We'll watch your back."
I nodded gratefully, steeling myself before continuing forward. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't block out their voices completely.
"Sylas," the whispers continued, closer now, almost mocking, "do you remember… what you once were?"
My pulse quickened. My steps faltered.
What I once was…
Echoes of the Past Life
Memories flooded my mind, memories of my past life—the one I had worked so hard to suppress. I saw myself as I had been: powerful, ruthless, and feared. I had controlled an entire world, ruled with an iron fist, making choices that had shaped the course of history.
But those choices had left scars, not just on the world but on my soul.
"I… remember," I whispered, voice trembling.
"Good," the whispers purred, amused. "Because you haven't forgotten what it means to wield power, have you? The cost. The sacrifices you made…"
"Stop," I hissed, clutching my head as pain surged behind my eyes.
"Sylas?" Elara's voice cut through the haze, her touch gentle but grounding. "What's wrong?"
I took a ragged breath, forcing the whispers away. "It's… nothing. Just voices."
She frowned, clearly unconvinced, but my father interrupted sharply. "We keep moving. Don't let them slow us down."
He was right. If I lingered, the whispers would overwhelm me completely.
We had to keep moving.
The Heart of the Forest
Hours passed in silent determination, our footsteps the only sound in the oppressive silence. My father set a harsh pace, refusing to let us rest until the strange fungi began to thin and the whispers slowly faded into distant murmurs.
Then, at the very center of the forest, we emerged into a small clearing. At its heart stood a solitary stone obelisk, ancient and covered in glowing runes—similar to those at the ruins, yet different.
"What is this place?" Elara whispered in awe.
My father's jaw tightened. "A shrine."
I stepped closer, feeling an intense wave of mana radiating from the stone. The runes carved into its surface pulsed softly, echoing with the same unsettling whispers I had heard earlier.
"Do you hear them?" I asked cautiously.
My father shook his head. "Not clearly. But I sense their presence."
I hesitated, reaching out to touch the stone. My fingertips brushed against the runes, and the world shifted abruptly around me.
A vision exploded through my mind, clearer and sharper than before:
A battlefield stretched out before me, endless and desolate, littered with thousands of bodies. Above, the sky twisted with unnatural clouds, streaked with lightning. Two armies clashed, one side wielding mana, the other armored in strange mechanical constructs powered by corrupted gods.
I gasped, jerking my hand back as the vision shattered.
"What did you see?" my father asked sharply, steadying me as I stumbled back.
I breathed heavily, my voice shaking. "War. A war between two sides—one like us, the other… different. Mechanical. Corrupted."
Elara's eyes widened. "The gods the old man spoke about?"
I nodded, feeling cold dread settle in my chest. "They're real. And they're coming."
Silence fell over us, heavy and absolute.
My father finally spoke, voice grim. "Then we have less time than we thought."
Decisions Ahead
We didn't linger at the shrine. Its presence was too dangerous, the visions too overwhelming. We continued quickly through the darkened forest, desperate to leave behind the whispers and the haunting visions.
As we reached the edge of the corrupted forest, emerging beneath a pale moon, I knew one thing for certain:
The Aberrations had only been the first wave. The true enemy was far worse—a force from beyond the boundaries we understood, something that could twist reality and corrupt even the gods themselves.
The old man's warning echoed clearly in my mind again.
Kovan.
We would find answers at the academy, but answers wouldn't be enough. We needed allies. We needed strength.
We needed unity.
Because the war I had glimpsed wasn't one we could win alone.
It would require both continents to stand together—fantasy and steampunk alike.
And for the first time since my rebirth, I understood my purpose in this world. Not as a conqueror, not as a ruler, but as someone who could unite them.
My father placed a firm hand on my shoulder. "Are you ready?"
I took a deep breath, nodding. "Yes."
Because now, more clearly than ever, I realized the truth:
The whispers from the deep weren't a threat. They were a promise—one I was determined to face.
And when the storm arrived…
We would be ready.