Chapter 15 – The Day the Forest Fell Silent
The dark wood did not announce Karidevan's death.
It simply absorbed it.
The mist thickened unnaturally, settling low and heavy among the ancient roots. The river marking the eastern boundary slowed until its surface stood eerily still. Birds vanished into the dense foliage of the trees. Insects fell silent. Even the wind hesitated, touching the leaves only when necessary, as if the forest itself was struggling to comprehend how to mourn.
The elders gathered in the inner chamber.
The chamber was carved deep into the black rock; the serpent-like glyphs on its pillars were so ancient that their meanings were more felt than understood. In the center burned a single blue flame dim, subdued, motionless, unwavering. It was a flame reserved only for moments of irretrievable loss.
That truth weighed upon everyone present.
Karidevan, the supreme leader of the dark forest territory, was dead.
At first, no one spoke.
They didn't need to.
The dark forest was not merely a clan; it was a living territory vast, secretive, and feared by outsiders. It was sustained not by banners or armies, but by restraint, shadow, and balance. Karidevan was its ultimate authority, its judge and executioner, the one who bore the responsibility when order could no longer be maintained by silence alone.
Now that authority was gone.
An elder finally stepped forward, his voice hoarse, as if scratched by disbelief.
"It has been confirmed," he said. "The supreme leader Karidevan has fallen." The words echoed briefly before being swallowed by the hall.
When Veeran Nizhalan, the elder warden of the Dark Forest, struck the stone floor with his staff, a sharp sound broke the silence.
"Impossible," he said, his voice a mixture of anger and disbelief. "He survived the fire worshipper many years ago. His dark cloak remained intact."
"He survived," replied Murthi Senai, the commander of the guards, his voice quiet yet heavy. "But survival is not victory."
Veeran tightened his jaw, unwilling to accept it.
I stood at the edge of the hall.
Small.
Silent.
Listening.
I felt the Dark Forest pressing in on me from all sides roots beneath the stone, shadows between the pillars, dimly throbbing veins of life in the grey world visible to my sight. The mark on my left hand pulsed once, then grew still.
Maruthini stepped forward.
Her face was taut; not with tension, but with carefully controlled grief. She had travelled with Karidevan longer than most here. She had seen his composure, his patience, and the burden he carried alone.
"He waited," she said softly. "He endured because he knew this child would come."
Her gaze turned towards me.
That attention felt heavier than fear.
Veeran exhaled deeply, running a hand over his face.
"That dark cloak," he said. "Only two have ever touched it."
Murthi nodded once.
"Karidevan at his peak and Athiraivan."
The silence grew heavier. That dark cloak was not merely a training stage. It was a pact made with darkness itself—one that demanded absolute clarity of purpose. Those who failed were swallowed, annihilated, or trapped forever in the world of ash.
Karithevan had borne it for decades.
Now it rested solely with me.
"He went alone," another guardian said bitterly from the shadows. "No companion. No warning."
"He knew," Maruthini replied quietly. "He chose to go."
"For revenge?" the warrior asked, frustration evident in his voice.
"For order," Murthi replied.
The blue flame flickered slightly.
Everyone understood what remained unsaid. Years ago, Karithevan had clashed with a powerful fire practitioner of the Sudarvel Empire. He returned alive—but wounded. His training never fully recovered, and the wound never truly healed.
Since then, the fire had grown bolder.
The Sudarvel clan ceased pretending to be merely a prominent clan. In the name of stability, they expanded, absorbed weaker clans, and rewrote laws. Dark practitioners were increasingly branded as dangerous, unstable, or unfit for society.
Registers appeared.
Restrictions followed.
Then disappearances.
Karithevan endured all of this in silence, guarding the dark forest while waiting for an heir.
for someone strong enough to bear that burden without collapsing under its weight.
When the fire crossed a threshold he could no longer ignore, he acted.
He paid for it with his life.
"He did not die screaming," Murthy said quietly. "He died standing."
No one contradicted him.
The responsibility now hung in the air in that hall, without a place to rest.
Slowly, inevitably, everyone's gaze turned to me.
I felt the shift immediately. The security tightened, the guards adjusted their positions, the shadows closed in. It wasn't suspicion it was protection.
Because now, I was the only future for the Dark Forest.
Maruthini stepped forward once more.
"The Dark Forest cannot be divided," she said calmly. "Not now."
She paused for a moment, then spoke again her voice quiet, deliberate, and firm.
"The Clan Chief has been informed," she said. "He is already on his way."
The entire hall froze.
No one questioned her.
The Clan Chief rarely interfered in the affairs of the Dark Forest. That was the tradition.
Separation balance between territories, control between authorities. If he had been summoned, it meant that Karidevan's death had gone beyond an internal loss.
It had now become a continent-wide concern.
Maruthini continued, her gaze sweeping across the hall.
"The Sea Temple remains hidden," she said. "It will serve as our secret base. Only the guards and those strong enough to protect it will travel between there and the dark forest."
The warrior nodded once, his face grim.
"It is secure. Its paths remain unknown."
"Good," Maruthini replied. "From this moment, protecting Athiravan will take precedence over all other commands."
I felt the weight of that decision settle upon me, like a cloak I had never worn before.
Moorthy turned slightly towards me.
"You will not bear this alone," he said. "Until the clan leader arrives, Karithevan's duties will be shared."
I met his gaze.
"What about the Fire Empire?" I asked softly.
The hall grew darker.
"They are watching," Moorthy replied. "And they are moving."
The warrior's voice was low, on the edge of anger.
"They have allied themselves with an empire beyond the Sea Pearls Continent. With that strength, they plan to destroy every major clan, including ours."
"And the darkness stands in their way," Maruthini said.
No one contradicted her.
The dark forest had survived by remaining unseen. But with Karithevan gone, and my apprenticeship complete, the shadows began to move openly.
The forest outside responded.
Roots stirred beneath the stones. Shadows deepened on the walls. Somewhere in the distance, the river began to flow again, slowly and steadily.
Karithevan's death had not brought an end to the dark forest.
It had awakened it. Now, as the clan leader approached, and the Fire Empire tightened its grip, the dark forest stood on the brink of a new era.
An era shaped by silence.
And by me.