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Chapter 30

  The air grew heavier as Nimrielle led the way deeper into the Forest of Astram, her delicate hands brushing against gnarled branches that seemed to twist toward her touch. The once-vivid light filtering through the canopy had dimmed, replaced by an eerie, silvery glow that flickered inconsistently, like a failing memory of sunlight. Behind her, Aledon murmured a few sharp words under his breath, his staff alight with faint blue energy to push back the encroaching shadows. Eliya followed close behind, her movements tentative but deliberate, clutching a smooth, rune-inscribed stone in her palm.

  Nim's mind was heavy with thoughts of the villagers. Each whispered plea for help, each wary glance, and every flicker of distrust had coalesced into a burden she couldn’t shake. She glanced over her shoulder. Aledon’s face, pale and focused, betrayed no trace of unease. Yet, even he could not entirely conceal the way his free hand occasionally trembled as he adjusted his satchel. Eliya, for all her brave words earlier, seemed no better; her breaths were shallow, and her gaze darted nervously to every rustle and creak around them.

  "The forest knows we’re here," Aledon said finally, his voice low. "It doesn’t want us to succeed."

  Nim nodded but kept her silence. The Forest of Astram was alive in ways neither Cedorin nor even Aledon’s tomes could fully grasp. She had felt it long before this moment, in the way the trees seemed to lean toward her, whispering secrets only her soul could decipher. But now, that life felt wrong—strained and taut, like a thread pulled too tightly. This wasn't the Astram she had tended to since her creation.

  It started subtly, a faint shimmering in the air ahead, almost like heat rising off a sunlit stone. Then, without warning, the shimmering expanded, cascading over the group in a wave of glowing spores. They spiraled chaotically, lighting up the dim forest in fleeting bursts. Nim instinctively raised a hand, calling forth Astram’s Embrace.

  ‘Focus, Nim. You’ve done this a hundred times.’

  The spell surged, a soft, opalescent barrier forming around them. But even as the spell completed, she knew it wasn’t enough. The dice rolled faintly in her mind’s eye—an 8. The barrier shimmered unevenly, gaps appearing where the spores seeped through.

  "Eliya, stay close!" Nim shouted, already shifting her stance to reinforce the barrier.

  Eliya didn’t hesitate. She reached into her satchel and hurled one of her enchanted stones into the air. The rune-covered surface crackled before exploding into a gust of wind. The spores scattered, swirling harmlessly into the trees. The sudden quiet was as startling as the attack.

  "We can’t stop for every little thing," Aledon grumbled, brushing stray spores from his cloak. "The forest is playing with us. Testing us."

  "Or warning us," Nim murmured. She glanced at the others, then pressed forward.

  Their journey led them to an opening that shouldn’t have existed. The ground sloped gently into a crystalline lake that shimmered with a light of its own. The air here was different—not the suffocating magic of the forest, but something purer, like the hum of a string plucked in perfect harmony. Strange, luminous plants clung to the lake’s edge, their colors shifting in a soft, rhythmic pulse.

  "That’s Astram Ivy," Nim said softly, kneeling by one of the plants. "And those—Duskwither Petals." She traced a delicate finger over the velvety surface of one petal. "These are exactly what we need."

  Aledon crouched beside her, his brow furrowing. "It’s too convenient." He tapped his staff lightly on the ground, muttering a detection spell. A faint hum rose in response, and he stiffened. "There’s something in the lake. Watching us."

  Before anyone could respond, the water rippled. From its surface rose a serpentine creature of liquid and light, its translucent body reflecting the forest in fractured, kaleidoscopic patterns.

  The guardian Etherling struck without hesitation, a torrent of water surging toward the group. Nim reacted instinctively, summoning Whispering Roots with a quick gesture. The dice rolled—14. Thick, gnarled vines erupted from the ground, snaring the creature mid-attack.

  "It’s bound, but not for long!" Nim shouted.

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  Aledon stepped forward, his staff glowing with the telltale light of Etherfire. The flames lashed out, searing the creature’s form. But instead of recoiling, the Etherling reflected part of the energy back toward its attacker. Aledon stumbled, a scorch mark marring his robe.

  Eliya darted around the creature’s flanks, throwing another enchanted stone that burst into a blinding flash. The Etherling writhed, momentarily disoriented, giving Nim the chance to reinforce her binding spell.

  Together, the three worked in unison—Nim’s vines constricting tighter, Aledon’s controlled bursts of fire weakening the creature further, and Eliya’s clever distractions preventing it from mounting a proper counterattack. Finally, the Etherling stilled, sinking back into the lake with a low, mournful hum.

  As the ripples in the water calmed, Nim felt a pull toward the lake’s edge. She hesitated, then stepped closer, her feet sinking slightly into the soft, mossy ground. Faint whispers reached her ears, too soft to understand but impossible to ignore.

  "Nim?" Eliya’s voice was cautious.

  "Something’s here," Nim replied, her eyes fixed on the water. Slowly, a small, sealed case floated to the surface. She reached out, her fingers brushing the smooth surface as she lifted it free. Aledon examined the case, his expression darkening.

  "It’s old. Very old," he muttered. "And powerful."

  Inside was a scroll, its runes glowing faintly in the dim light.

  Nim’s gaze shifted to the forest beyond. The whispers were gone, but an unease lingered. Something was guiding them—but to what end?

  As they left the lake, they came upon an overgrown altar covered in Astram Ivy. Nim paused, brushing the vines aside to reveal runes etched into the stone. The symbols were eerily similar to those on the shattered talisman they had found days earlier.

  "This wasn’t an accident," Nim whispered.

  Aledon frowned. "Someone—or something—wanted the Heartstone broken."

  A shadowed figure watched from the treeline, its form indistinct but its presence undeniable. Nim turned, sensing something, but the figure was gone before she could speak.

  The dense forest wrapped around the trio as they pressed forward, their previous victory over the crystalline lake feeling like a distant memory. Nim walked ahead, her steps guided by the quiet pull of the forest. Behind her, Aledon muttered under his breath, irritation breaking through his usual calm demeanor.

  "We’re stumbling deeper into danger without even knowing what we’re looking for," he said, his voice cutting through the silence. "This scroll and your visions—none of this guarantees we’ll find anything useful."

  Eliya, walking beside him, glanced toward Nim, her tone lighter but no less uncertain. "But we’re closer to understanding, aren’t we? The forest wouldn’t guide us here if it didn’t mean something."

  Nim didn’t respond immediately. Her focus was fixed ahead, where the undergrowth gave way to a clearing. In the center, tangled by vines and moss, stood a weathered altar, its stone surface etched with runes long faded by time. She stopped abruptly, the sight pulling a sharp breath from her.

  "This..." she began, her voice barely audible. "This altar is tied to the Heartstone. I’m sure of it."

  Aledon stepped closer, his skepticism evident. "Tied how? This could be an empty relic for all we know."

  But Nim wasn’t listening. Her porcelain fingers brushed the rough surface of the stone, and the moment her touch connected, a surge of energy rushed through her.

  The vision came swiftly, overwhelming her senses.

  A vibrant forest spread before her, the trees alive with a golden glow, their roots intertwining around a radiant Heartstone embedded in the earth. At the altar stood a robed figure, chanting words she couldn’t understand. The forest hummed in harmony, vibrant and whole.

  Then, a shift. The Heartstone cracked, and with its shattering came darkness. Shadows spilled from the altar, twisting through the forest, suffocating its light. A voice, distant but resonant, echoed in her mind: Restore balance, or all shall wither.

  Nim staggered back, her body trembling as the vision faded. She would have collapsed if Eliya hadn’t caught her, worry etched into the younger girl’s face.

  "Nim! What happened?"

  The construct’s voice wavered as she spoke. "I saw... the Heartstone, whole and shattered. This altar is connected to its fragments. We have to—" She stopped, her gaze shifting to a faint glimmer at the base of the altar.

  With trembling hands, she cleared away the moss, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside, a shard of the Heartstone glowed faintly, pulsing like a fragile heartbeat. Beside it lay a map, its markings ancient and intricate.

  Aledon knelt beside her, his usual detachment replaced by genuine curiosity. "A map?" He examined the markings, his brow furrowing. "These locations... they could lead to other fragments or rituals to repair the damage."

  Nim nodded, her resolve hardening. "This is what we’ve been searching for."

  Before they could celebrate the discovery, the forest stirred around them.

  A low growl echoed from the trees. Shadows coalesced, forming into a pack of lupine Etherlings. Their translucent forms shimmered with malevolent energy, glowing eyes locked onto the group.

  "Defensive positions!" Aledon barked, already channeling magic into his hands.

  Nim raised her hands, summoning Astram’s Embrace. The roll was low—5—and the protective barrier flickered weakly before dissipating entirely. Panic surged through her.

  Eliya stepped forward, her enchanted stones glowing as she threw them into the fray. Blinding flashes erupted, disorienting the Etherlings. Meanwhile, Aledon unleashed Etherfire, the ghostly flames consuming several of the creatures but drawing more from the shadows.

  Nim took a deep breath, steadying herself. She reached out to the forest, her fingers brushing the ground as she cast Whispering Roots. This time, the roll was strong—15—and roots erupted from the earth, ensnaring the remaining Etherlings. Their struggles grew weaker until they dissolved into the air, leaving an uneasy silence in their wake.

  As they regrouped, the runes on the altar began to glow faintly. A deep, resonant voice echoed, emanating from the stone itself.

  "Three trials await. Each will test your resolve, your bond, and your faith. Succeed, or the forest shall consume itself."

  The light faded, leaving the group in stunned silence.

  Nim clutched the map tightly, its markings pulsing faintly. She turned to Aledon and Eliya, her voice steady despite the weight of the warning. "We have to complete these trials. It’s the only way to restore the Heartstone."

  Aledon hesitated but nodded. "Then we prepare. We’ll return to the village, gather supplies, and plan. This won’t be easy."

  Eliya placed a hand on Nim’s shoulder, her determination clear. "We’ll do this together."

  As they began their journey back, the forest seemed to watch them, its shadows shifting unnaturally. Unbeknownst to them, the shadowed figure from before lingered, its jagged form clearer in the dim light.

  "They will not succeed," it muttered, its voice distorted and venomous.

  The map in Nim’s hands glowed faintly, its pulse matching the beat of her uncertain heart.

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