The trees whispered.
Not in the way the wind rustled through leaves, but with actual voices—soft, haunted, and strange. The group had entered the Ironwood, a dense, ancient forest said to stretch endlessly for those who entered with uncertain hearts.
Kael had never known fear like this—not even during the Trial of Flame. The forest pressed in on all sides, and the light from his sword barely penetrated the shadows. Each step felt watched, each sound amplified.
"We stay together," Elara whispered, her bow drawn. "The forest feeds on fear."
Therin chuckled dryly. "Good thing I left mine back at the village."
"Liar," Lysaria muttered, but her grip on her staff betrayed her unease.
Mara, quiet since her brother's betrayal, led the way. Her eyes were sharper now, more guarded. The weight of loss had settled on her shoulders, but so had a deeper resolve.
"This forest tests more than courage," she said without turning. "It shows you what you want most… and what you're most afraid of losing."
Kael swallowed hard. He could feel it too—the tug at his soul, the gentle prying fingers of old regrets and buried dreams.
They followed a faint trail until they reached a clearing where the trees formed a perfect circle. In the center stood a stone monolith covered in vines and glowing runes.
"This is it," Mara said. "The gate to the rebels' enclave lies beyond. But the forest won't let us pass until we face it."
"Face what?" Kael asked.
As if in answer, the air shimmered—and suddenly, they weren't alone.
Figures stepped from the shadows. Duplicates. Each member of the group stared at a version of themselves, only twisted. Darker. Colder.
Kael faced his shadow-self—his eyes burning with unrestrained power, his face hardened by cruelty.
"I am what you become when power is everything," the doppelgänger said. "Without mercy. Without fear. Without weakness."
Kael's hands trembled. "That's not who I am."
The shadow stepped closer. "But it's what you could be. Wouldn't it be easier to burn them all? To never lose anyone again?"
Kael raised his sword. "Power without compassion is just another form of tyranny. I won't become like the Sovereign."
His blade ignited, light flaring bright. The shadow hissed and vanished into ash.
Around him, the others fought their reflections, struggling against doubts and insecurities brought to life. Elara's double taunted her fear of abandonment. Therin's mocked his need for approval. Lysaria's whispered of betrayal yet to come.
But one by one, they stood firm—cutting through illusion with truth.
When the final echo dissolved, the monolith pulsed, then cracked open, revealing a hidden passage beneath its base.
Mara turned to Kael, her expression unreadable. "You led us through. The flame responds to you—not just because you carry it, but because you honor it."
Kael looked back at the fading illusions. "I just know what I'm fighting for."
They descended into the passage, leaving the forest and its whispers behind. Below, warm torchlight flickered against stone walls etched with rebel sigils. A new world awaited—one filled with fighters, secrets, and perhaps… allies.
But even here, danger lurked.
As they stepped into the heart of the hidden enclave, a voice echoed from the shadows:
"We've been waiting for you, Flamebearer."
A woman emerged—silver-haired, eyes like lightning. A leader. A legend.
"Welcome to Emberdeep."
Kael's heart surged. The rebellion had a pulse—and now, it had a fire to fuel it.