CHAPTER 4 — SHADOWS THAT FOLLOW
The forest breathed around him.
Riven moved deeper, each step slow and deliberate, the ground pulsing faintly beneath his boots. The air felt heavier than before—dense with mist and drifting motes of silver pollen that floated like tired stars. Every sound was muffled, as if swallowed by the trees before it could travel far.
He wasn't afraid.
Not exactly.
But something inside him kept whispering that he was walking toward something he was never meant to see.
Truth…
That word weighed on him more than the darkness.
The vision shown by the water-being still flickered behind his eyes—
the burning village, the silhouette of the titan rising from the flames,
the girl crying his name.
He didn't know her face.
But the memory had felt real—too real.
Why does it hurt to remember something I don't remember?
He shook his head, pushing forward until the glowing pool behind him faded from sight.
---
The Forest Changes
The deeper he went, the more the forest transformed.
The trees grew taller, their bark shifting faintly as if adjusting itself when he approached. Their branches stretched overhead like ribcages, forming a tunnel of shadows with occasional glimmers of moonlight cutting through cracks in the canopy.
Riven stopped.
A sound—soft but unnatural—brushed past his ear.
Tik… tik… tik…
Like claws on bark.
"Who's there?" he said quietly.
No answer.
Only the pulsating soil beneath him, the gentle breathing of the trees, and the whispering rustle of leaves.
He swallowed.
"Calm down," he whispered to himself.
"You've survived worse."
But he wasn't sure if that was true.
His hand drifted up to touch the faint crescent mark on his neck. It pulsed once—a cold throb that spread across his skin.
Riven frowned.
"Again? Why now?"
As if responding to his confusion, the mark glowed faintly—barely noticeable, but enough to illuminate the mist curling at his feet.
Then it happened.
A shadow separated itself from the darkness.
---
The Creature in the Mist
At first, Riven thought it was just another trick of the forest.
But no—this shape moved.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
A small creature—barely the size of a fox—stepped onto the path behind him. Its body was made of shifting shadows, like smoke trying to hold a solid form. Two pale, reflective eyes blinked at him from the darkness, giving off no light, yet seeing everything.
Riven froze.
The creature didn't growl.
It didn't attack.
It just… watched.
"What… are you?" Riven whispered.
The creature tilted its head slightly, as if curious. Its body rippled, edges dissolving before reforming. It had no mouth, no fur—just shadow wrapped around emptiness.
Yet something about it felt… familiar.
Not friendly.
But not hostile either.
Like it was waiting for something.
Riven took one slow step toward it.
The creature shrank back—not in fear, but caution. Its eyes stayed locked on him, studying him with intelligence that felt uncomfortable.
He reached out a hand.
The creature dissolved instantly into the mist, vanishing between the trees.
Riven blinked.
"What…?"
But before he could finish his thought—
He heard a whisper.
Not from the trees.
Not from the wind.
From the darkness the creature disappeared into.
---
"Found you…"
The whisper was distant, stretched thin like an echo dragged from another world.
Riven spun around, fists clenched.
The forest remained silent.
But the whisper lingered inside him, like a residue of something ancient and hungry.
Then the mark on his neck pulsed again—once, twice, harder than before.
Riven gritted his teeth.
"Stop. What are you trying to tell me?"
He breathed sharply through his nose, steadying his mind.
He needed to keep moving.
The deeper forest was changing—too quickly, too unnaturally.
He walked, senses sharp, muscles tense.
Above him, tree branches trembled.
Below him, roots shifted.
And behind him…
Soft footsteps echoed.
The shadow creature had returned.
Riven didn't look back, but he felt its gaze. It followed him from a distance—never closing in, never falling behind.
Like a silent escort.
Or a silent stalker.
Riven exhaled.
"Fine. Follow me if you want. Just don't get in my way."
The creature blinked slowly, as if acknowledging him.
---
The World Beyond the Forest Moves
Far from the breathing forest—
beyond the mountains of Raelor,
past the river valleys and scattered villages—
lay the city of Ashvane.
Its towers rose like jagged teeth into a storm-wrapped sky.
Thunder rumbled across the horizon, yet no rain fell.
The air itself felt cursed, thick with forbidden incantations.
Inside the city's inner sanctum, a massive hall lit by blood-red torches hummed with power.
Dark figures kneeled around a circular altar carved from black stone.
At the center stood their leader.
The Obsidian Seer.
A tall figure draped in shadowed fabric, face hidden behind an angular mask carved with runes that pulsed as if alive.
He raised his hand slowly.
A ripple spread through the hall.
"All of you… kneel lower."
The disciples pressed their heads to the cold floor.
The Seer's voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"He has awakened."
A tremor passed through the air as the torches flickered wildly.
One disciple dared to speak.
"Master, who do you refer to?"
The Seer turned his masked face toward him, a cold stillness following his movement.
"The Crescent-Bearer."
Gasps filled the hall.
"That's impossible—"
"He died years ago—"
"The Prophecy—"
The Seer silenced them with a raise of his hand.
"I felt the pulse of Crescent energy. Young… unstable… but unmistakable."
He lifted a finger, drawing a thin line of shadow across the air.
It formed into a glowing sigil—identical to the faint mark on Riven's neck.
"This boy must be retrieved immediately."
The disciples stiffened.
"Master… the Crescent-Bearer is forbidden. He is the one who—"
"Yes."
A cold wind tore through the chamber.
"He is the one who nearly destroyed us."
---
A Hunter is Born
In a corner of the sanctum, a tall figure stepped forward.
Lean.
Clad in black leather armor marked with fang-like etchings.
Eyes sharp enough to cut.
A Fang Disciple—the cult's trained assassin caste.
He knelt before the Seer.
"Give me his trail, Master."
The Seer extended a hand toward the assassin's forehead.
A beam of twisted shadow shot forward, slamming into the disciple's mind.
He shuddered, inhaled sharply, and then—
Smiled.
"I see him… walking alone through the breathing forest."
The assassin rose.
"I will bring him back."
The Seer's voice darkened.
"No. You will bring back his mark. The boy's body is irrelevant."
The assassin bowed and vanished into the darkness.
The hunt had begun.
---
The Forest Tightens Its Grip
Back in the breathing forest, Riven continued walking, unaware of the storm that now shifted against him—not the weather, but fate itself.
The shadow creature remained behind him, its pale eyes reflecting the faint glow from his crescent mark.
Riven glanced over his shoulder.
"You're still there."
The creature said nothing—only flickered slightly, like a candle flame caught in a draft.
Riven frowned.
"If you're going to follow me, at least don't creep around so much."
The creature tilted its head again, as if confused by the idea of not creeping.
Riven sighed, turning forward.
The forest grew narrower.
The trees pressed closer.
And soon—too soon—the pulsing glow of the living forest dimmed behind him.
He reached a line where the soil stopped breathing.
Where the trees stood still.
Where the mist thinned.
The boundary.
He placed a hand on one trunk and whispered:
"…I'll return someday."
For reasons he couldn't explain, the forest felt like an old friend—
a friend he didn't yet understand.
He took one step beyond.
The world suddenly felt colder.
Quieter.
Real.
The shadow creature stood at the edge, watching him cross the boundary… then it followed.
Riven let out a slow breath.
"All right then. Come along, shadow. Let's see what truth looks like outside."
He didn't know that far above him, storm clouds were gathering—
gathering for him.
He didn't know that an assassin now hunted his soul signature.
He didn't know that the shadow creature was not merely following…
…but guarding.
He only knew one thing as he stepped out of the breathing forest:
His life as a simple village boy was over.
And the world of power—the true world—
had finally opened its eyes to him.
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