Morning fog had lifted only partially from the courtyard of the Caelrith Clan. Not even this veil of fog could cover the beauty of this clan's courtyard, located at the peak of Mount Kaldra. The ancient trees that surrounded the courtyard helped to guard it and streamed light through the midst of their branches like centuries-old sentinels throughout.
Lucius Caelrith stood in the middle of this grand courtyard. His presence was far from the imposing force of his fellow clansmen warriors. His build was lean and athletic; he was not a man made of sheer muscle, but rather one who possessed the fluid strength of someone capable of both brawn and subtlety.
His hair was dark brown, nearly black. He stood a head taller than people around his age. His hair was long enough to fall in waves just past his shoulders; during training, he often tied it back to keep it out of his face so it wouldn't disturb him.
He was wearing the usual traditional attire of the Caelrith Clan: a long white robe with chiseled gold lines starting from the top and ending at the hem. On the back of the robe, a symbol was emblazoned in bold, sharp lines. At the center, a glowing orb of light pulsed with energy, surrounded by jagged rays that radiated outward, their edges tinged with fiery red and gold. This symbol belonged to the Path of the Radiant Dawn—also referred to as the Light Path by many.
For one to harness a particular path, they had to go find or be granted a Bloom Shard. These rare artifacts, resembling a crystal, were the only means by which an individual could walk one of the 17 known paths. Each shard contained the essence of its path. Once used, the shard would unlock the essence of said path inside the individual, allowing them to walk that path.
The Radiant Dawn Path's Bloom Shard was in the form of a white crystal resembling a moonstone. Once this white crystal was crushed by an individual, that individual would gain the right to walk upon the Path of the Radiant Dawn, which the Caelrith Clan had been cultivating for a very long time.
In the Caelrith Clan, the Bloom Shards of the Radiant Dawn Path were kept under sacred guard inside a vault, which the clan members called the Shinestone Vault—accessible to those deemed worthy of walking the Radiant Dawn Path.
For most born into the Caelrith bloodline, this was something of a tradition: the young Caelriths would become cultivators of the Light Path upon reaching the age of fifteen.
But for someone like Lucius, things were different.
Although he bore the Clan's name, trained alongside the sons and daughters of the Caelrith, and wore their robes, he didn't belong to the Caelrith bloodline. He had been found twelve winters ago on the outskirts of Mount Kaldra, wrapped in a black cloth and freezing in the cold.
The clan elders gave him everything—his name, the food he consumed daily, a place where he could live, clothes he could wear—but one thing they never gave him was their trust. To them, he was just a guest wearing their clan's attire.
When he reached the age of fifteen, the Shinestone Vault was not opened for him.
No Bloom Shard was presented. The Radiant Dawn didn't reject him—the elders did.
No matter how hard he trained.
No matter how much he studied the Light Path.
No matter how many missions he completed for the clan.
No matter how many times he bled in silence to prove himself equal to his fellow clansmen…
In their eyes, he was never worthy of their Radiant Dawn Shard.
He stood in the middle of the grand courtyard. He was getting ready to head down the mountain of Kaldra for another mission which might change the elders' minds—but that was unlikely. Still, he had to try.
He took a shining white crystal sword with him for protection from wild beasts or any other dangerous encounters which he may stumble upon during his mission.
"Already heading down?" a voice called out.
Lucius turned around as Elara Caelrith stepped out from a small building near the grand courtyard. She walked with a slow yet deliberate pace, showcasing her calm demeanor. She had dark-brown hair which she had tied up high. Her face was gentle—elegant, radiating a warmth which was hard not to notice. This was the second daughter of Elder Wei, who was an Adept Third Bloom Stage of the Radiant Dawn Path.
"Yeah," Lucius replied simply. Then he added, "Figured I'd get it over with, before the mist thickens again."
Elara stepped closer, her brow creasing slightly.
"The Hollow Roots?" she asked, her voice dropping.
He gave a small nod.
"They're still sending people there?" she murmured. "I thought after the last two—"
"They don't want me to return, and they don't expect me either," Lucius said—not bitter, just matter-of-fact. "Who knows, this may be the last time you see me," he added.
She was quiet for a moment, then reached into the folds of her robe and produced a small leather pouch.
"Here," she said, pressing it into his hand. It was a charm imbued with light energy. "Keep this as good luck," she added.
He gave a nod of thanks, then turned toward the stone steps that led down Mount Kaldra.
"Lucius, don't try to come back for them—come back for you," she said in a worried tone.
He didn't answer. His grip tightened around the hilt of the crystal sword.
The descent of the mountain was long, steep, and filled with silence.
The morning fog had long disappeared. The mountain's warm golden hue had long switched places with a darker forest hue—green turned to grey. A constant hum echoed from deep within the roots of the forest.
The scroll he was given by the elders explained the details of the mission, which on the surface were simple: all he had to do was find the cause of the corruption of the Hollow Roots. But this was more dangerous than it seemed. Many had failed this mission.
Lucius had long strayed from the safe path and into the forest. The Hollow Roots had once been sacred—filled with greenery and countless blessings—but something had broken long ago. The blessings had soured; the whispers had turned cruel.
The once beautiful trees withered away. Now they grew wrong—their trunks were cracked; they gave off a feeling of no life. The leaves were no longer a beautiful green, but instead a dark color. The branches were twisted. Everything that was once right was now wrong.
His boots sank into soft soil as he moved deeper. His white robe had been covered in dirt stains. Here, even light seemed hesitant to touch the ground.
As he delved deeper into the forest, passing thick roots sticking out of the earth, he was forced to cut many wooden branches just to move forward. The hum grew louder the deeper he wandered into the Hollow Roots.
Lucius paused beside a broken stone, which looked like it had been a statue of someone at one point—but time and rot had erased many of its details. It was half swallowed in moss, a small portion of it missing, and it had many cracks, making it look like it could crumble at any given moment.
He crouched beside it, placing his right hand on the cold stone. He tried brushing off the moss.
But a low growl stopped him cold.
Lucius quickly rose, his right hand immediately shifting to the hilt of his sword, waiting to draw it at any moment. He heard the growl again, but this time it was louder. Next, he heard something step on some twigs and branches.
He turned towards the noise, eyes scanning for the source of the growl. Between the withered roots coming from the earth, next to a withered bush, a dark grey shape emerged.
A wolf.
Or what remained of it. Its flesh was half gone. Its body was massive—fur blackened and patchy with decay. But even with all those injuries, it could move. Its eyes glowed with an unusual color never before seen by Lucius. Drool hung from its jaws as it stared at him.
Lucius took a stance and drew out his crystal sword. He didn't attack yet. He lowered his sword and awaited the wolf to lunge at him.
"You're not what you used to be," Lucius murmured. At first glance, one could tell the wolf had been affected by the corruption of the Hollow Roots.
The wolf lunged forward.
Its claws lashed out toward Lucius, but he sidestepped just in time. He spun and slashed toward the wolf's shoulder.
Upon the slash, the wolf howled—and turned on him with extraordinary speed. Lucius barely blocked with the flat of his sword, but the sheer weight the wolf put into its attack knocked him backwards into a tree.
The wolf came again, not letting Lucius take a breath. This time, he ducked, barely escaping the wolf's huge silver claws. He tried striking upwards with his crystal sword, managing to strike through its flesh and bones. The beast reeled, blood gushing out from its wound—but it did not go down!
How could it go down so easily? The fight had just begun.
The wolf charged once more—this time with more aggression than ever.
Lucius did not falter, nor did he feel any fear. He met it head-on. He was met with its claws aiming at his face. He tried to dodge, but one of the claws hit the left side of his face, injuring his left eye.
The claw mark had already formed on his face, and blood started flowing from the wound. Lucius could barely manage to open his left eye, but he forced it somehow. He sent out a strike, but to no avail. He was met yet again with the wolf's claws—but this time he dodged.
He slid beneath its leap, driving the crystal blade up into its underbelly. He twisted the blade to cause more harm to the wolf—until the wolf finally collapsed into the soil.
The wolf shuddered, its breathing ragged.
The once white crystal sword was now covered in red from the blood of this corrupt wolf.
Lucius stood in silence, blood dripping from the gash on his left face. His breathing had become shallow. The corrupted wolf lay still, its massive body twitching for the last time before going slack.
He crouched beside it—not out of pity, but out of necessity. After all, maybe he could find some clues to solving his mission by checking its body. His hand trembled as he searched beneath its hide, looking for anything unusual. The corruption had changed this creature into something unnatural. Obviously, there had to be a cause.
But no Bloom Shard revealed itself. He'd thought—perhaps foolishly—that something so corrupted might've been guarding one. Or that perhaps the phenomenon that caused the corruption of the Hollow Roots came from a Bloom Shard. And this thinking wasn't wrong. This could well have been the work of a Bloom Shard gone wrong—but such a thing rarely happened.
Bloom Shards originated from the wild, and they were usually found there. Clans like the Caelrith had a different method of acquiring large numbers of shards to give to their clan children.
He pressed his hand against the bleeding on his left eye and wiped it with a piece of cloth. It would scar—no doubt. Lucius rose and continued walking, leaving the wolf's corpse behind.
It was starting to get darker, and he hadn't made any progress toward his mission. The forest was no longer just dark—it was hostile. The roots arched like ribs from beneath the earth. He could only move forward at a very slow pace. The deeper he walked, the more terrifying the Hollow Roots looked.
Eventually, the trees began to open, but they looked more lifeless as he ventured forward. The air grew heavier. The hum became louder—but it felt as if the Hollow Roots were filled with silence.
Lucius pushed through a handful of hanging vines and stopped.
To his left, hidden by the overgrowing and overflowing roots, he saw stone steps covered in moss. They were barely visible, but carved with a purpose.
He glanced around. The trees leaned in behind him as though watching, waiting. Whatever this place had been, the forest had tried to bury it.
That meant one thing:
It was important.