The morning sun poured into the Academy halls, warm and golden, a stark contrast to the shadows that had haunted Alaric's nights. For once, the whispers were quiet, as if Rudra himself had chosen to grant silence.
Alaric walked into the lecture hall alongside Clem, expecting the same tense glances from his peers. Instead, a sudden cheer rippled across the room.
"Darvin's back!"
Alaric turned sharply. At the far end of the hall stood Darvin, tall and broad-shouldered, a grin plastered across his face despite the faint bandages wrapping his arms. He waved with easy confidence, his presence like sunlight breaking a storm.
Alaric's chest loosened. It had been weeks since Darvin left for the inter-academy tournament. His absence had been felt like a missing piece in their group.
Darvin strode over, clapping Alaric on the shoulder with enough force to almost topple him. "You look like you've been through a battlefield without me."
Alaric smirked faintly. "You weren't wrong."
"And you?" Clem asked, eyeing the bandages. "Looks like you didn't come out unscathed."
Darvin's grin widened. "I made it to Trial Eighteen."
The class quieted, every student leaning closer. Trial Eighteen was whispered about as nearly impossible — a test where even elite fighters faltered.
"I was this close," Darvin said, holding his fingers a hair's breadth apart, "to breaking the best record ever scored in the Arena. Eighteen… out of twenty. Can you believe it?"
Gasps echoed across the hall. Even Alaric raised his brows. "You almost beat the Academy's record?"
Darvin puffed out his chest. "Almost. But Trial Nineteen…" His grin faltered for a moment. "Let's just say it broke me before I could break it. Still, the healers said I'm lucky I can walk at all."
Clem shook her head, half amused, half exasperated. "You're insane."
"And you missed me," Darvin shot back with a wink.
Laughter rolled through the hall, and for the first time in days, the Academy felt almost normal.
After the lecture ended, Darvin leaned closer to Alaric and Clem. "I found something on my way back here. You both need to see it."
Alaric's stomach tightened. "What kind of 'something'?"
Darvin's grin returned, mischievous this time. "The kind that doesn't try to kill you. Or at least, didn't try to kill me."
He led them beyond the Academy gates, through a winding path that cut into the forest. The air grew damp and rich with the scent of moss and earth. Birds cawed overhead, and the trees grew thicker, their branches tangling into a canopy that filtered sunlight into emerald shards.
"You're sure this isn't one of your pranks?" Clem asked, stepping over a fallen log.
Darvin chuckled. "Would I drag you two into the woods for a prank? Wait—don't answer that."
Alaric's hand brushed against the amber stone in his pocket. It pulsed faintly, not in warning, but with a curious rhythm. As though it too was eager to see what lay ahead.
They broke through a thicket and entered a small clearing. Alaric froze.
At first glance, the creatures resembled deer — slender, graceful, with antlers branching like polished ivory. But their fur shimmered with faint silver patterns, glowing softly like starlight even in the day. Their eyes, large and luminous, turned toward the newcomers without fear.
One stepped closer, its hooves barely making a sound on the grass. Clem inhaled sharply, hand instinctively going to her dagger — but Darvin raised his palm.
"They're not hostile," he said. "Trust me."
To prove it, he crouched slowly, extending his hand. The creature leaned forward, its glowing eyes unblinking, and pressed its snout against his palm. The silver light along its fur brightened at the touch, as though it recognized him.
Clem blinked in astonishment. "It's… friendly."
Darvin grinned. "Told you. Found them on the road, thought they'd bolt. But instead they followed me for a while, then vanished into the trees. I tracked them here."
Another creature approached Alaric, tilting its head curiously. He hesitated, but slowly reached out. The moment his hand brushed its fur, a warmth spread through him — not like Kenive's fire, not like Eryndor's shadows, but something gentler. Calming.
The stone in his pocket pulsed once, steady. Rudra's voice stirred faintly, thoughtful. "These are not ordinary beasts. They are fragments of the First Forest, where divine and mortal once met. Tread carefully — they are watching more than they reveal."
Alaric stiffened but kept his expression calm. Clem watched him carefully, as though sensing something unsaid.
One of the smaller creatures nudged her arm playfully, and for the first time in weeks, she laughed — a sound untainted by fear or tension. Alaric found himself smiling despite the weight of Rudra's warning.
For a while, they simply sat among the creatures, the silver lights glowing softly around them like fallen stars. The forest felt safe, untouched by war or whispers.
But as the sun dipped lower, shadows stretching long across the clearing, Alaric noticed something strange. The silver glow of the creatures dimmed as darkness spread. Their eyes shifted — still calm, but deeper, sharper, like pools reflecting more than light.
One pressed its snout against his chest, right above the stone. His heartbeat faltered. For a split second, he thought he heard a whisper not from Rudra, not from Eryndor, but from the creature itself:
"Balance… or break."
The vision vanished as quickly as it came. The creature bounded back toward the herd, its silver glow returning.
"Time to head back," Darvin said, rising to his feet. "They don't like staying out after dark. Neither should we."
As they walked back toward the Academy, Clem glanced at Alaric. "What happened when it touched you?"
He hesitated, then forced a small smile. "Nothing. Just… warm."
But inside, his thoughts churned. Rudra's words, the creature's whisper, the shifting glow — none of it was nothing.
The Forest of Creatures wasn't just a sanctuary. It was a mirror. And mirrors always revealed more than you wanted to see.