The first light of dawn spilled quietly through the slender cracks of the tent, painting the canvas walls in pale gold and soft rose. Aeris stirred beneath the thin blankets, the weight of the night's cold still clinging to his bones despite the fire Mira had kindled just hours before. The embers of that fire had faded to glowing coals, smoldering softly in the hearth as if reluctant to yield their warmth to the cool morning.
Outside, the world was still, save for the faint rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze and the distant call of a morning bird. The scent of damp earth and pine drifted in, mingling with the faint, sweet aroma of Mira's herbal tea, which rested on a small wooden stool beside Aeris's bedroll.
Aeris opened his eyes slowly, gray irises adjusting to the light. He lay still for a moment, listening—not to the sounds around him, but to the faint flicker deep inside, the ember nestled within his soul. It was quieter today, its glow dimmer, but it was there, a fragile pulse beneath his ribs that tethered him to this world. He touched his chest lightly, feeling the familiar warmth even as a pang of fatigue curled through his limbs.
A soft voice called from outside the tent.
"Aeri? Are you awake?" Liora's voice, small but bright like a bell.
Aeris smiled, a faint upturn at the corners of his lips, and pushed himself up on one elbow. "Morning, little light," he murmured.
The tent flap rustled open, and Liora stepped inside, her storm-grey eyes wide with curiosity and something else—concern, perhaps? She carried the small bell Mira had given her, the silver shimmering faintly in the morning sun.
"Tea's ready," she said, setting the steaming cup down with careful hands. "Mira says it should help with the chill."
"Thank you," Aeris said softly, accepting the cup. The warmth seeped into his fingers as he cradled it, and he let the scent of herbs fill his senses. For a moment, the exhaustion ebbed, replaced by a fragile sense of peace.
Liora perched beside him, her small hands wrapped around a smooth stone she had found near the river. "Did you dream last night?" she asked quietly.
Aeris took a slow sip of tea, letting the warmth roll down his throat. "I did," he admitted. "Fire again. But not the same as before. It was softer this time. Like the last ember before dawn."
Liora nodded solemnly. "I saw that too. The fire was close, but not hungry."
Aeris's smile deepened, though sadness lurked behind it. "Sometimes the fire isn't destruction. Sometimes it's just light. A reminder that even endings can hold warmth."
She looked up at him, eyes shining with the wisdom of one who had seen too much too soon. "You make it sound like the fire is a friend."
"It is," Aeris said, his gaze distant. "A friend I must cherish while it lasts."
Outside the tent, the camp was stirring. Mira's humming drifted through the canvas, a soothing lullaby that wrapped around Aeris's thoughts like a soft shawl. He set the tea down and pushed himself to sit fully, the familiar ache in his chest reminding him of the cost hidden beneath his calm exterior.
"Today's the day we reach the Forest of Whispering Leaves," Aeris said quietly, his voice steady despite the flutter of nerves beneath his ribs. "The Wraith Blight's heart lies there."
Liora's eyes widened, but she nodded without hesitation. "I'm ready."
Mira appeared at the tent's entrance, a small smile touching her lips. "Good. We'll need your strength, all of you."
Aeris met her gaze with gratitude. "Thank you, Mira."
The healer's eyes softened. "Just don't push yourself too hard, Aeri. We need you whole, not burnt out."
He gave a small, tired laugh. "I have enough light left for this."
Liora's brow furrowed slightly, but she said nothing.
Outside, Evin was already sharpening his sword, the scrape of metal against stone a sharp contrast to the soft morning sounds. When he saw Aeris emerge from the tent, his stern expression softened just a bit.
"Ready?" Evin asked, voice low.
Aeris nodded, shouldering his pack carefully. "As ready as I'll ever be."
The group gathered their belongings, the weight of their journey settling around them like a cloak. Each step beyond the camp carried the scent of damp leaves and distant smoke, the whisper of shadows lurking beneath the canopy.
As they walked, Aeris let his gaze wander over the forest—tall trees reaching skyward, their leaves trembling in the breeze like flickering flames. He reached out with a finger, tracing a small ember in the air. It floated upward, glowing faintly before drifting away on the wind.
Aeris smiled softly. "A mark," he said. "For the places I've been. So I never truly leave."
Liora's eyes sparkled. "Like a trail of stars."
He nodded, watching the ember fade into the morning light.
The deeper they ventured, the heavier the air grew. The shadows lengthened, and the whispers began—soft, unintelligible murmurs that curled around their minds like smoke. Mira's hand brushed over the small bell at Liora's waist, ringing it gently to clear the lingering unease.
Suddenly, a chill ran down Aeris's spine. The ember inside flickered weakly, and he pressed a hand to his chest, steadying his breath.
Evin's voice broke the silence. "The Blight is near."
Aeris's eyes narrowed, the flame in his soul stirring with renewed urgency. "Stay close. We must protect Liora. She holds the key."
The child seer nodded, clutching her satchel tightly as they pressed forward into the heart of darkness.
The forest opened to a clearing, but it was no refuge. The ground was blackened and cracked, as if fire had swept through and left only ash and despair. Twisted trees groaned in the wind, their branches like skeletal fingers reaching for the sky.
Aeris knelt, fingers brushing the soil. The ember inside him pulsed in pain, the faint taste of iron sharp on his tongue.
He swallowed hard. "The Blight is worse here."
Mira stepped forward, gathering herbs and whispering soothing words. "We can't stop it all, but we can slow it."
Evin stood guard, eyes scanning the shadows for movement.
Liora's voice trembled. "I see fire… but it's dying. Like a candle about to go out."
Aeris's smile was fragile. "Then we must be the wind that keeps it burning."
As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the land, Aeris summoned a soft flame in his palm. It danced like a living thing—warm, fragile, and beautiful. The ember in his chest glowed brighter, flickering like a heartbeat.
But beneath the light was the truth he hid—the slow, relentless burn of his own soul-flame fading, inch by painful inch.
The dawn light filtered through the high canopy, casting mottled patches of gold and green onto the soft forest floor. Aeris tightened the straps of his travel robes and adjusted the dark blue scarf around his neck, feeling the cool morning air slip beneath the layers. The embers of his last spell had already begun to fade, but a faint warmth lingered beneath his skin—a reminder that magic was both gift and burden.
Liora trotted ahead, her bright red cloak fluttering as she moved between the towering trunks of ancient oaks and ash trees. The soft bells woven into her braid jingled lightly with each step, a delicate sound against the distant rustle of leaves. She paused to pick up a feather—iridescent black with a slight shimmer—and tucked it carefully into her satchel. "Little lights," she murmured, eyes bright with wonder.
Mira followed behind, her moss-green shawl catching on low branches as she scanned the underbrush for herbs. "We should find some valerian soon," she said softly. "It'll help Liora with her visions tonight."
Evin brought up the rear, his steel armor dull in the morning light but his stance alert and steady. He scanned the horizon with sharp green eyes, fingers resting casually on the hilt of his sword. "Keep your guard up," he reminded them quietly. "The Blight's roots here run deep—and we're only at the edge."
Aeris nodded but said nothing. He was used to Evin's cautious tone. It grounded the group, gave a steady rhythm to their travel. Still, his mind wandered, tracing the ember inside like a fading pulse. It was lighter today—more fragile.
As they moved deeper into the Forest of Whispering Leaves, the air changed. The sunlight became dimmer, the vibrant greens shifting to duller, sickly hues. The leaves above twisted into strange shapes, like blackened flames frozen in time. Shadows clung to the tree trunks like crawling fingers, and faint whispers seemed to echo from every rustle.
Liora's pace slowed. She rubbed the small silver bell in her hand, her eyes clouding with the weight of a vision pressing against her mind's edges. Aeris stepped beside her, voice gentle. "Take a breath, Liora. Let the world come back to you."
The girl's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as she calmed herself, the bell's soft ringing steadying her senses. "It's fire," she whispered. "But not warm. Cold, like ash. It's coming. Everything burns."
Aeris swallowed the ache that twisted his chest. "We'll stop it. Together."
Mira knelt beside a patch of withered herbs, running her fingers over brittle leaves. "This Blight… it corrupts everything it touches. But some places resist longer than others."
Evin's voice cut through the uneasy silence. "We need to find the source of the Wraith Blight before it spreads to the villages."
The forest thickened. Dark vines crept like veins along the tree roots, pulsing faintly with sickly green light. Aeris felt a prickling sensation—like the ember inside him was trembling in warning. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, smooth stone—the first of many he had collected on this journey. Taking a moment, Aeris held out a fingertip and let a tiny ember flame flicker to life, warm and glowing orange against the cold gray stone.
The ember danced softly, a fragile beacon in the dim forest.
Liora's eyes widened. "You leave your light behind."
Aeris smiled faintly, brushing ash-white hair back from his face. "So I never truly leave. The ember is a part of me, and of the forest now."
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the twisted trees, the group reached a clearing. The ground was cracked and scorched, a bitter scent of burnt wood and death heavy in the air. Blackened branches clawed skyward, and the silence was broken only by the soft crackling of distant flames.
Evin drew his sword, stepping forward cautiously. "The Blight's heart."
Aeris knelt and placed a hand on the scorched earth. The ember inside flared in pain, a burning ache that spread through his chest. "It's worse than I feared."
Mira set to work quickly, scattering herbs and chanting softly as she sought to ease the land's suffering. Liora closed her eyes, murmuring a prayer to the spirits of the forest.
Aeris summoned the ember in his palm, letting the fragile flame flicker like a heartbeat. "We may not stop the fire today," he whispered, "but we can be the light that holds the darkness at bay."
The flame pulsed steadily, a soft glow against the encroaching night.
And beneath the light, the ember inside Aeris burned—fragile, fading, but still alive.