The bandits drew nearer, their boots crunching on broken stone, their voices harsh with laughter.
"Another corpse-picker," one sneered when his gaze fell on Kaelen slumped against the ruined tower. "Looks half-dead already. Won't even have to work for his coin."
Kaelen's throat was dry. His body screamed at him to run, but his limbs were weak. He had nothing left but the brand pulsing in his palm.
The bandits fanned out, circling him like wolves. One leaned close, the stink of rot on his breath. "Hand over anything worth taking, boy. Do it fast, and maybe we'll let you keep your tongue."
Kaelen's heart thundered. He pressed his palm flat against the ground.
The Seed answered.
Roots exploded upward.
The earth split open beneath the bandit's feet. Jagged tendrils coiled around his legs, yanking him down before he could scream. His body crumpled as the roots pierced his flesh, draining the life from him in a rush of crimson light.
The others staggered back, curses ripping from their throats.
"What—what is this?!"
"Spirit arts? No—no talisman does this!"
Kaelen stared in horror as the man's body shriveled, his eyes hollowing to pits. The roots dragged his corpse into the soil, leaving only brittle bones behind.
The Seed pulsed in Kaelen's veins.
More.
It wanted more.
The second bandit rushed forward, slashing with a jagged blade. Kaelen flinched, but the roots moved faster. They lashed upward, catching the blade mid-swing. With a crack like thunder, wood and steel snapped apart. Tendrils wrapped the man's torso, crushing his ribs until he spat blood.
Kaelen's stomach twisted as the man's scream turned into a gurgle, then silence. His essence flowed into the Seed, and in Kaelen's mind's eye, the barren world flickered again—ash replaced by a faint shimmer of soil, the single blade of grass joined by three more.
The Seed was growing.
The last two bandits tried to flee.
Kaelen almost let them. His hand trembled, hovering above the ground. He could stop. He could resist.
But the Seed's hunger burned hotter. His vision dimmed, his body trembling as if the sprout in his palm were rooting through his veins.
If they live… they'll come back. They'll kill me. Or worse.
He slammed his palm down.
Roots burst from the rubble, barbed and merciless. They pierced spines, tore through flesh, dragged both men screaming into the earth. The ground drank greedily until the cries were gone.
Silence.
Only the whisper of roots withdrawing, vanishing back beneath the cracked soil, as if they had never been.
Kaelen fell to his knees, chest heaving. His hands shook violently.
The Seed pulsed with warmth, satisfaction. In his mind's eye, he saw the inner world once more. No longer barren. Grass spread across the soil in fragile patches, green against the ash. The beginnings of a stream trickled faintly through the dust.
Life, where there had been none.
But Kaelen could still hear the echoes of the men's screams.
He pressed his forehead to the dirt, bile rising in his throat. "What… what have I done?"
The Seed pulsed again, steady and calm.
Grow… or die.
Kaelen clenched his fists until his nails dug blood.
He had survived. But at what cost?