By dawn, the road became silence.
The city had long vanished behind them, replaced by gray soil and thin trees leaning like old men. No birds. No insects. Just the wind brushing branches that didn't sway—but listened.
Elric walked beside the wagon, letting the others ride ahead.
Cai remained silent, eyes closed as if still halfway in a dream.
"Should we stop?" Sylas asked.
"No," Elric said softly. "We're close."
Lira rode just ahead, her hand resting near her blade. Her gaze didn't drift from the woods.
"This place isn't empty," she murmured. "It's watching."
---
Just Beyond the Ridge
The forest thickened—then opened.
The road spilled into a hollow basin. Trees lined the edge in a near-perfect ring, their trunks blackened, bark cracked like old paper. But in the center of the grove, there stood a single living tree—wide, silver-barked, untouched by decay.
They had arrived.
"Shadeland Grove," Marin said, her voice hushed.
No one moved.
Even the horses stopped without command.
The wind didn't blow here.
Elric stepped forward.
Each footfall felt heavier.
Not because of weight—because of memory.
---
The Grove Responds
Cai gasped suddenly and gripped the wagon rail.
"Elric," he whispered. "They're here."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
He turned slowly, golden eyes glowing faintly.
"They remember. But they're not human. And they're afraid."
---
In the Tree Line
Neera stood frozen, eyes wide. "There—by the silver bark."
All heads turned.
A flicker of movement—slender, too graceful to be human. Pale skin, glimmering briefly in the shadows.
A figure stepped forward.
Not from behind the trees—but out of one.
As if the bark had opened like a door.
She was tall, her hair pale green, braided with leaves that didn't match any season. Her cloak was bark-brown, laced with root-like patterns. Her eyes were the strangest—silver, not glowing, but deep, like water that remembered every drop.
She looked at Elric.
"You carry the memory sigil," she said calmly. "But you are not bound."
Elric didn't move. "And you are…?"
She bowed slightly—not as a servant, but as one acknowledging another speaker in council.
"Serenith of the Hollowveil. Warden of the First Roots. And you stand in a grove that remembers betrayal."
---
The Warning
More shapes moved in the trees.
Two, then five, then a dozen—figures like Serenith. Not hostile, but still, Lira's hand found her blade.
Serenith raised a hand, and the others paused.
"We do not harm Healers," she said. "But we do not forget them."
Elric stepped forward. "You knew of the Root?"
"We knew of its original form. We warned your kings not to bind memory to power. You did it anyway."
"I didn't."
"No," Serenith said. "But you are part of it. And now it is unraveling into places it was never meant to reach."
---
A Decision
Cai stood now, his voice distant. "The sickness is growing. They're losing names."
Serenith nodded.
"The borderlands are unraveling because you cut the tether too fast. Memory is a river—you cannot dam it, then break the wall without flooding the valley."
Elric's fists clenched.
"Then help me contain it. Show me how to fix what they broke."
Serenith stared for a long time.
Then turned toward the silver tree.
"If you wish to learn," she said, "you must remember what your kind buried."
She placed a hand on the bark.
It opened like breath.
"Enter. And bring no lies."
---