The sky darkened, stars scattering across its vast canvas as Kyle stood at the edge of Livia Town.
Before him stretched a looming forest, its borders obscured in pitch-black silence, a soft wind curling around his skin like a whisper. Behind him, the artificial lights of Livia Town glowed faintly, outlining the sleeping town in a hazy amber glow.
A small pouch hung from his waist, filled with low-grade healing potions and a few basic spell scrolls—defensive wards and tracking glyphs. These spells were simple to use; all he needed was to inject a bit of mana and recite the incantations.
He was ready.
Kyle chose to move under the cover of night. No one dared enter the Forest of Orcan after dark.
The forest, whispered to be cursed, was known to harbor Abyssiptic creatures— the monsters that triggers the Apocalyptic War a hundred years ago. Despite the danger, many awakened came here to train or explore. Some even got lucky—finding rare herbs or lost relics.
But they always left before nightfall.
Kyle stepped into the darkness, a dim orb of light floating just ahead of him. It was the weakest lighting spell he'd bought—enough to guide his steps, but not bright enough to disturb the forest.
His figure slowly disappeared into the shadows.
In the deep silence, even his footsteps felt too loud. The wind carried a strange weight here, almost as if it was watching him.
Kyle's hand shifted to his pouch, resting on the familiar leather-bound diary—the one he found hidden in the attic.
This forest… was the clue the diary pointed to.
'Why here? What lies in this forest?'
He treaded carefully over uneven soil, surrounded by twisted trees and snapping branches. And then—warmth. Familiar, pulsing warmth and small light glows from the diary.
He froze.
Drawing it out, the pages flipped too fast until it stop at a page.
Ink began bleeding into the parchment, forming words:
You have arrived.
Maybe this is your calling.
Follow the path where the silence deepens,
Where the air makes no sound.
There, the Seal of the Null awaits.
Beware the eyes that wander. They are close.
Kyle's eyes widened. The words shimmered for a few seconds, then the light dissappear.
He looked ahead. Several paths stretched in front of him, swallowed in black—but one stood out.
It was still. Unnaturally still. No wind, no rustling leaves, no presence.
'This is it.'
Kyle closed the diary and slipped it back into his pouch, drawing in a slow breath.
'Where the air makes no sound.'
He stepped onto the path.
The deeper he went, the more the world behind him faded. It felt like he walked without light, yet something guided him. The glow from his spell had vanished—it simply didn't work here.
The trail narrowed. Trees grew denser, their branches closing in. The darkness wrapped around him like a second skin.
Then—crack.
A branch broke somewhere nearby. The crunch of soil under weight.
Too loud. Too heavy.
Kyle's instincts screamed. He slipped behind a large tree, heart pounding, and stilled every muscle in his body.
Something was coming.
The footsteps drew closer, heavy and deliberate. He felt the vibration through the ground. Slowly, he peeked around the trunk.
All he saw were eyes. Glowing green. Too large. Each one the size of a human head.
An Abyssiptic creature.
His breath caught. He shut his eyes and held still, willing himself to become invisible, just air in the forest.
Time passed slowly—painfully slow. The sound of footsteps faded. The glowing eyes disappeared into the dark.
Kyle collapsed at the base of the tree, sweat trailing down his face. The danger was gone—but it left a stain behind.
He exhaled and gathered himself. The diary hadn't activated again, which meant he still had to go deeper.
Pushing forward, he continued until something caught his foot.
A root? A stone?
He stopped and crouched, brushing at the soil—when the diary began to glow faintly again. He quickly pulled it from his pouch, but no new words appeared.
Instead, his focus shifted to the ground.
Between the twisted roots, a faint green glow leaked through. He knelt and cleared away the soil, fingers sliding between the interlocking wood until they touched something cold. Metallic.
He dug faster, heart racing, and pulled it free.
A ring.
Black, simple in design, yet lined with silver and gold inlays that formed ancient, looping runes along the band.
As soon as he touched it—pain lanced through him.
The ring pulsed. The runes flashed— silver, blue, red, green, black—one after another. The darkness lit up like a dying star.
Then his vision blurred.
Images assaulted him: a white void, roaring fire, crashing oceans, whispered voices.
He gasped, stumbling back. The ring now sat silent in his palm, still glowing softly.
The diary lit up again. Pages flipped rapidly until one settled—lined in black and gold ink:
The Ring of Nol is bound to you.
Within it, the elements await—
Fire, Water, Shadow, Wood, and Thunder.
Each sealed. Each dangerous. Each demanding.
To unlock them, you must face trial.
The fated Null, may this ring be your light.
Kyle stared at the ring.
It pulsed faintly—was it… hope he felt? Or power?
This wasn't just a clue.
It was destiny. It was a legacy.
He slipped the ring onto his finger. It fit perfectly.
Words appeared again on the same page of the diary:
Begin with Flame.
Seek the Amber Cave.
Burn—or be born anew.
A faint warmth flared from the ring, like a spark waiting to ignite.
Kyle squared his shoulders, standing taller in the darkness.
"Then," he whispered, "I'll face the flame."