The forest of Xerion was a desolate husk at noon. The vibrant, glowing pulse of the night—vines like starlight, trees thrumming with life—had withered into a gray, decaying stillness.
The towering giants stood mournful, their bark cracked and peeling, the air thick with the sour stench of rot. The silence was heavy, broken only by distant roars, like the forest itself was groaning its last breaths.
Norian clung to the highest branch of a massive tree, his bare chest slick with sweat, his lean, muscled frame trembling from the climb.
At 5'9", he was no longer the wiry boy from Veltharion, but this ascent had pushed him to his breaking point. His fingers, raw and bleeding from gripping rough bark, ached fiercely.
His legs quivered, threatening to give out. Adrenaline had driven him up here, a desperate need to see the river, to escape the forest's suffocating grip.
But now, high above the world, fear rooted him in place.
'Rest. I need rest.'
He thought, heart hammering. He wanted to keep running, to reach the river that called to him, but his body demanded a pause.
The view was breathtaking—Xerion sprawled endlessly, a sea of muted green flecked with fading glimmers of last night's bioluminescence. In the distance, two monstrous shapes clashed, their roars splitting the midday haze.
Huge, primal beasts tearing into each other. Norian popped a glowing berry into his mouth, its tart juice bursting on his tongue. He licked another, tucking it into the pocket of his tattered pants.
'Might get hungry.'
He couldn't sleep, not up here. One slip, one moment of weakness, and he'd plummet to his death. The thought tightened his chest, but he forced his gaze to the horizon, to the river's promise.
His spear rested across his lap, its rough wood a steadying weight. The two water pouches at his waist, filled with aetheric water, were his lifeline. He was awake, alert—until a low growl shattered the silence.
The tree shuddered.Norian's breath caught, his eyes darting downward. His soul nearly fled his body. A massive bear-like monster was climbing the tree, its muddy, hulking form clawing up the trunk.
Its fur was matted with filth, its eyes glinting with hunger. The beast was enormous, twice his size, its claws sinking into the bark with sickening cracks. And it was coming for him. It had smelled him.
'Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.'
Panic clawed at his throat, his mind spiraling.
'What do I do? What do I do?'
His teeth ground together, his eyes scanning wildly for an escape. Jump? He'd die. Fight? His spear was a joke against that thing. His heart pounded, vision narrowing to a tunnel of terror.
The forest, the river, his newfound strength—all mocked him now. Death was climbing closer.Calm down. Think. Norian forced a deep breath, the air sharp and hot in his lungs. He watched the monster's movements. It was slow, its massive weight dragging it back with every clawing step.
The tree groaned, bark splintering. An idea sparked, desperate but clear.
'If I climb down when it's close, it might lunge. It might fall. A fall wouldn't kill it—monsters like this were too tough—but it could slow it down. Time to run. Time to live.'
He waited, every second an eternity. The bear climbed, its growls vibrating through the tree, its stench—rotten earth and musk—choking him. An hour dragged by, the monster inching closer.
Norian's palms sweated, his grip on the spear tightening. Now. He shifted, heart in his throat, and began descending the opposite side of the tree. His bare feet found holds, his movements quick but shaky.
The bear roared, sensing him, its claws scrabbling faster. Norian's pulse thundered, but he kept moving, sliding down the trunk, bark tearing at his skin.The monster's head appeared over a branch, jaws snapping.
Norian dropped faster, adrenaline screaming through his veins. He hit the ground, knees buckling, and glanced up. The bear was turning, trying to follow, its bulk unbalancing the tree. Then it slipped.
With a bellow, it crashed downward, the impact shaking the earth. Dirt, dead leaves, and mud exploded around it.
'Go. Now.'
Norian sprinted, bare feet pounding the forest floor, toward the river. His lungs burned, his muscles screamed, but he was faster than ever, his new body a machine forged by the aetheric water.
He wove through the undergrowth, zigzagging over roots, leaping fallen logs. Bears follow scent, he thought, smearing berry juice on trees, kicking up dirt to confuse his trail.
*****
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✶ Dimension Walker ✶
✧ The Veiled Paragon ✧
⊱ Eternal_Void_ ⊰
✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢
*****
The pouches slapped against his hip, the spear a steady weight in his hand. When exhaustion clawed at him, he yanked a pouch free, sipped the aetheric water, and felt life flood back—muscles loosening, breath steadying.But then, a thump. Heavy, relentless.
He glanced back. The bear was running, faster than he'd thought possible, its massive form barreling through the forest.
"How? It had fallen from a fucking tree! It should've been hurt, slowed, something. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Norian screamed, voice raw.
"Leave me alone!"
His legs pumped harder, the river's distant glimmer his only hope. A massive dead tree loomed ahead. He slid under it, hoping it would slow the beast. It didn't.
The bear smashed through, splintering wood like kindling.His first pouch was empty now, drained in his desperate flight. He zigzagged tighter, circling trees, praying to shake the monster.
It was relentless, a donkey chasing a carrot, locked on his scent. His chest heaved, vision blurring.
'I'm dead. I'm fucking dead.'
The bear was closing in, its breath hot and close—then a shadow struck.A black panther, sleek and massive, slammed into the bear. Claws raked, teeth flashed.
The forest erupted in roars. Norian stumbled, eyes wide. The panther was fighting for territory, not him. He was too small, too weak to be worth its time.
The bear, bloodied but raging, fought back, desperate for its prey—Norian.
He didn't wait to see who won. He ran. For hours. Every time he felt tired he drank the Aetheric water and rejuvenated himself.
Even then the mental toll was heavy. For what it felt like eternity. It had finally arrived
Dusk was settling, the forest waking. Vines glowed again, moss pulsed with light, fruits bloomed from branches. The decay of daytime vanished, replaced by Xerion's vibrant night.
Norian's second pouch was half-empty, but he gulped it down, the aetheric water igniting his veins. The river came into view, its massive, gentle waves shimmering like liquid starlight, mystical and soothing.
He collapsed to his knees on the riverbank, panting, hands digging into the cool, loamy earth. The riverbank was a wide, smooth expanse of dark soil, flecked with glowing moss that pulsed faintly in the dusk.
The river itself was vast, its surface rippling with an otherworldly light, as if the aetheric water from the forest's channels had gathered here, magnified into something divine.
Its gentle waves lapped at the shore, whispering promises of safety, civilization, and secrets yet to be uncovered.
"I thought I was a goner,"
Norian gasped, voice ragged. His chest heaved, his hands trembled, still clutching the spear. The aetheric water's vitality coursed through him, but it was more than that keeping him upright.
His heart pounded, not just with fear or relief, but with something raw, electric—thrill. He'd stared into death's jaws, felt its breath on his neck, and outrun it.
A shaky chuckle escaped his lips, growing into a low, disbelieving laugh.
"Holy shit. I fucking did it."
The thrill wasn't just adrenaline. It was deeper, a wildfire in his chest, burning away the last shadows of the cursed boy from Veltharion.
Back there, he'd been small, haunted, always one step from breaking. Every failure, every doubt, had carved itself into his bones. But here, in Xerion, he'd faced a monster that should've torn him apart—and he'd won.
Not by fighting, but by surviving, by being faster, smarter, more. The bear's roars, the panther's attack, the forest's oppressive decay—they'd all tried to claim him, and he'd slipped through their grasp.
His laugh grew louder, edged with something wild, almost manic. He felt alive, more than he ever had. His body vibrated with it, his pulse a drumbeat of defiance.
But beneath the thrill, a quieter current stirred. Fear hadn't left him entirely. His hands still shook, his breath catching as he remembered the bear's eyes, locked on him, unyielding.
What if the panther hadn't attacked? What if he'd been slower, stumbled, run out of water? The questions gnawed at him, but they didn't drown the thrill—they sharpened it.
He'd been forged in this moment, in the crucible of terror and survival. The aetheric water had remade his body, but this chase, this escape, had remade his soul.
He wasn't just free of Veltharion's curse—he was more than it, more than the system that had dropped him here, more than the forest's monsters.
Norian tilted his head back, staring at the river. It was no ordinary water. Its surface shimmered with the same aetheric glow as the forest's channels, but magnified, as if the river was the heart of Xerion's magic.
Its waves moved with a slow, hypnotic rhythm, each one catching the dusk's light and scattering it like stars. The riverbank stretched wide, its dark soil soft under his knees, speckled with glowing moss that pulsed in time with his heartbeat.
It felt alive, like the forest itself, a threshold between the crucible of his transformation and the unknown world beyond. The river was both a promise and a warning—civilizations grew near water,but so did danger.
The symbols he'd found weeks ago, etched into trees, hinted at natives, allies, or enemies. The river was his path to them, to answers, to whatever the system—or fate—had in store.
He took a deep breath, the aetheric water's clean, vibrant scent filling his lungs. His chuckle faded, replaced by a quiet resolve.
"I'm not that boy anymore,"
He whispered, the words a vow to himself, to the river, to Xerion. The thrill still hummed in his veins, a reminder of what he'd survived, what he'd become.
His hands steadied, his grip on the spear tightening. The riverbank was his new beginning, a line drawn between the forest's trials and the adventure ahead.
Whatever waited across the water—monsters, natives, or something worse—he'd face it. Not as a cursed man, but as Norian, remade, alive, and burning with the thrill of defying death itself.
-To Be Continued