Morning rose on a carpet of mist and unfamiliar birdsong.
The camp was slowly stirring from its slumber, wrapped in the damp warmth of a near-tropical southern forest.
Luminous spores still floated between the trunks like lazy mana fireflies.
Garlan opened his eyes to the dull thump of a shaken tree.
He sat up, glanced at Marenna still curled up against him, then stood quietly.
Beyond the stream, enormous shapes passed in silence.
Treants.
As tall as towers, their branches thick with golden buds, they moved slowly between the trees, paying no mind to the convoy. Each step made the ground hum. One of them turned slightly as it passed near the camp and shook its leafy arms, releasing a rain of oval-shaped fruits—sweet, glowing, and phosphorescent.
One student, still half-asleep, took a fruit to the face and sat up screaming. Others burst out laughing. Julius tried to catch one mid-air and got buried under an entire cluster.
“That’s what I call breakfast delivered by the woods,” he muttered, only half sarcastic.
Brenuss, still hidden in his invisible form, chirped softly and slipped up beside Garlan.
“Did you feel them coming?” Marenna asked as she joined him.
“No,” Garlan murmured. “And that’s what’s most unsettling.”
“And you? You’re connected to nature,” Julius said, turning to Marenna.
“Yes, I sensed them,” she answered calmly. “But they radiate so much kindness... I didn’t dwell on it. Their presence soothed everything around them.”
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The convoy moved out an hour later, advancing slowly through a damp, tangled forest.
The further they went, the stranger the wildlife became: harp-birds, stone hares, translucent insects that projected illusions in their wake.
But the wonder was suddenly shattered.
A scream.
Then another, deeper.
“On the ridge!” a soldier shouted. “Get ready!”
Worgs. Five, maybe six, charging from a wooded slope. Their eyes gleamed with hunger and corrupted magic.
Marenna immediately stepped in front of the younger students.
Garlan raised his arm, already ready to leap.
“Stay together! Don’t panic!”
The students formed a circle. The soldiers lined up. Julius, bow in hand, shot a glance at élo?se, who was beside him, breath short but focused.
The creatures attacked.
The clash was fast and brutal.
Soldiers met the beasts head-on—enchanted blades against darkened fangs.
One of the worgs bit into a guard’s forearm, drawing a howl of pain before being blasted away by a burst of fire from a professor rushing in.
Marenna conjured a wall of brambles to separate the students from the heart of the battle.
Garlan didn’t even need to join in: the soldiers quickly took control.
Two worgs were slain, the others fled into the brush.
Julius lowered his bow, panting.
“Nothing like a good morning monster charge to remind you we’re far from the academy…”
The afternoon dragged on as the convoy resumed its path through a forest growing increasingly sparse.
With each step, the wind grew thicker with humidity, and the smell of leaves and sap faded, replaced by a mineral scent.
Then, rounding a wooded ridge, the landscape suddenly opened wide.
Below, the Great Lake of Azuris stretched into the horizon.
A vast, glassy blue expanse shimmered under the sky, dotted with silver reflections.
At its center stood a lone islet, crowned by a colossal tree with deep green leaves that glowed faintly with life.
Even the soldiers fell silent at the sight.
“It looks like a dream frozen in time,” Marenna whispered, awestruck.
“Or the kind of place where magic sleeps… or awakens,” Garlan added in a low voice.
At that moment, a deep resonance pulsed through his body—an echo from far, far away.
Brenuss lifted his head, pupils dilating sharply. A similar wave rippled through his scales, too faint for others to feel.
And on the lake, unnoticed at first, the surface trembled.
A perfectly circular ripple spread outward from the central island…
As if the heart of the lake itself had answered.
