The sun had barely risen over the horizon when Cedric Veynar crossed an old path flanked by colossal trees. The damp earth muffled Eldras hooves, and the thick air smelled of moss and rotting leaves. He had left the village of Ravemont with his heart heavy with memories and broken promises, but his gaze did not waver: the world called him forward, and he must answer.
The path led him to the edge of Mirkwood, a vast expanse of trees so ancient that the elders claimed they had witnessed the birth of the kingdom itself. Legends spoke of spirits, enchanted beasts, and horrors that crept beneath the undergrowth. Merchants avoided it, and the few travelers who dared to cross it often vanished without a trace.
Cedric did not hesitate. He gripped the hilt of his sword firmly and urged Eldras forward into the gloom of that natural realm.
As he moved deeper, the daylight seemed to fade. The treetops blocked out the sky, plunging everything into a constant gloom. The silence was eerie: neither birds nor insects dared to break it. Only the murmur of the wind through the branches accompanied his steps.
Suddenly, Eldras whinnied nervously. Cedric tightened his reins and drew his sword. A figure emerged from the mist: an old man covered in a threadbare cloak, leaning on an oak staff. His face was lined with wrinkles, and his eyes shone with a strange greenish intensity.
"Stranger..." the old man said, his voice seeming to come from far away. "Few mortals dare enter this forest. What do you seek in the depths of the forbidden?"
Cedric watched him cautiously, never letting his guard down.
"I seek new paths, I seek trials that will temper my spirit." If danger lurks in this forest, this is where I must be.
The old man smiled faintly.
"Then you will find more than you wish for. Mirkwood holds secrets that devour the souls of men." He raised his staff and placed it firmly on the ground. "But also, traveler, the power of the ancient spirits dwells here."
Without further explanation, the old man vanished like smoke carried by the wind. Cedric blinked, incredulous, and only silence answered.
He moved on, and soon found the remains of a destroyed caravan. Overturned wagons, broken chests, and bodies of men and women lay beneath the undergrowth. Dried blood stained the earth, and weapons were shattered. Something terrible had attacked them.
A roar shook the forest. From the shadows emerged a gigantic creature: a Forest troll, with grayish skin covered in lichen, yellow eyes, and fangs like daggers. His club was a trunk uprooted, and with it he crushed everything in his path.
Cedric gritted his teeth and advanced.
"If this is the fate the forest offers me, I will not retreat."
The fight was brutal. The troll swung his weapon with tremendous force, kicking up the earth with each blow. Cedric dodged with swift movements, slashing out with thrusts that barely scratched the beast's tough hide. Eldras whinnied in the distance, unable to get close to the monster.
In an unguarded moment, the club grazed Cedric's shield, knocking him to the ground. The air escaped his lungs, but the young man rose immediately, pride burning within him.
"I will not fall here!" he roared, raising his sword.
He threw himself under the next blow, rolled on the ground, and sank his blade into the troll's leg socket. The creature bellowed in pain and fell to its knees. Cedric seized his opportunity: he dashed up the monster's flank, climbed its back, and with a ferocious cry, plunged his sword into the back of its neck. The troll convulsed, roared one last time, and fell to the ground, knocking down trees around it.
Cedric breathed heavily, covered in blood and sweat. He retrieved his weapon, panting, as he stared at the motionless colossus. Once again, he had survived.
Among the wreckage of the caravan, he found an intact chest. Inside, wrapped in cloth, was a strange object: a green crystal that glowed with its own light, pulsing like a heart. As he touched it, Cedric heard a murmur in his mind, like voices from the trees whispering forgotten secrets.
"What are you?" he murmured, but the crystal didn't respond, save for its steady glow.
He put it in his saddlebag, convinced that the find was not a simple relic, but a fragment of the forest's ancestral power.
Night fell, and Cedric camped by a stream. While Eldras rested, the young man lit a fire and gazed into the crystal. The green glow illuminated his face, and the flames seemed to lean toward him, as if drawn by its energy.
In the gloom of the forest, spirits appeared. Translucent silhouettes, human and animal, approached the fire. They showed no hostility, only curiosity. Cedric, instead of raising his sword, bowed his head in respect.
"I am a traveler, not your enemy. I seek to understand this world, not desecrate it."
The figures slowly faded, as if accepting his presence.
The young man sighed, looking up at the sky hidden behind the treetops. His thoughts traveled to Elaine Ravemont, the young woman he had left behind. His heart burned with longing, but also with determination. He couldn't stop: the love that was born in each place was a beautiful flame, but his destiny was to keep walking.
"I am not a man of roots," he murmured, stroking Eldras mane. "I am wind, and the wind never stops."
Mirkwood slept around him, but Cedric knew it was just the beginning. New dangers and mysteries awaited him along his path, and each step brought him closer to the greatness and tragedy of his destiny.