We moved behind Quinn at an easy pace, branches brushing our shoulders, leaves crunching softly underfoot. After a few minutes he scratched the back of his head and laughed.

  “I mean… I don’t know the way,” he admitted. “Just the direction Jerome gave me, you know?”

  That tracked; we were lost, fantastic. Well, not really lost; we could still backtrack. Still, the forest let us pass without fighting us. No skittering shapes between the trunks, no distant screeches, and I felt nothing with my senses. The air felt oddly calm, much different from the day before; the influence of the roots waned after its death.

  Then Mary raised a hand.

  We stopped instantly.

  I reached outward; I scanned the surroundings with all my focus, spells at the ready. Nothing stirred. There was nothing around us, at least nothing I could sense.

  “I feel something,” Mary said. “We’re close.”

  Rhea tilted her head. “To the shrine? I don’t sense anything.”

  Mary gestured vaguely at the forest around us. “It’s everywhere. In the trees. In the ground. Even the dead ones. Something is… repairing things. Slowly, but constantly. Like a mist.” Her eyes snapped open and fixed on a point deeper in the woods. “It’s coming from that direction.”

  I tried again, pushing my perception harder, searching for mana, some traces of magic, or anything. There was nothing. If this was some kind of healing energy, it was either too subtle for me or operating on a wavelength I simply could not touch.

  Still, the implications made my chest tighten.

  A passive effect, spread over this wide an area, repairing the death and corruption left by the roots. If that power could be claimed and anchored to a moving object, like my curses… the group would benefit immediately. Faster recovery. Less fear of wounds. Momentum. And gods, maybe fewer complaints.

  “Well”, I said, breaking the silence, “we knew it had to be healing or purification related. The requirement made that clear.” I looked at Mary. “If you can feel it from here, whatever’s inside could take your abilities to another level. Can you guide us?”

  She nodded without hesitation. “Yes. And if you’re right, coming here was absolutely worth it. Follow me.”

  She moved with purpose now, weaving between trees like she could see a path the rest of us couldn’t. There was a lightness to her steps, an energy I hadn’t seen before. Mary was always composed and steady, the kind of person who didn’t crack under pressure. Given her profession, it was a great quality, but I never saw her acting like this. She looked… eager.

  I glanced at Rhea and Alya. Rhea just shrugged back at me, lips pursed, clearly as confused as I was.

  Ten minutes passed. The forest began to feel wrong, though not in a hostile way. The air grew thicker and warmer. Even I started to notice it, not as a sensation, but as an absence. The usual background tension of this place was fading.

  Rhea suddenly stopped and crouched near a cluster of stones half buried in moss. “Okay”, she muttered, “now I feel it. These are anchors. Natural ones. Some of the trees too. We’re inside something big. A ritual, I think. Or… a field.”

  She trailed off, circling a nearby trunk, fingers tracing symbols only she could see. It didn’t matter. Mary was already slowing.

  Then there was a shift.

  One step, there was nothing but trunks and undergrowth.

  Next, we stood before a massive stone arch.

  Twin doors rose from the earth, ancient and monumental, carved from pale stone and wrapped in thick green vines. Flowers bloomed across their surface in colours too vivid for this forest, petals glowing faintly as if lit from within. The air around them hummed, not loudly, but insistently, like a held note.

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  It made no sense.

  The trees were not dense enough to hide something this large. We should have seen it from far away. There was no clearing leading up to it, no gradual reveal. The temple had simply… appeared in our path.

  I stepped closer, hand hovering near the stone.

  “Very subtle”, I heard Alya murmuring.

  Mary stood before the doors, eyes shining. Whatever lay beyond was calling to her.

  Mary placed both palms against the stone and pushed.

  At first, nothing happened.

  Then she tried to pull.

  The doors remained cold and inert beneath her hands, vines unmoving, flowers swaying only with the breath of the forest. Seconds stretched. Half a minute. Nearly a full one.

  I was about to intervene when Quinn beat me to it.

  He cleared his throat. “Uh. This might sound strange, but… see those lines? The swirls?” He stepped closer, pointing at the carvings etched deep into the stone. “Try pushing your magic… healing thing into those. Like… let it flow through them.”

  I was glad to have him with us, really. While he was a strange kid, his intuition about the working of magic and the way he treated reality like a video game, poking at mechanics no one had explained to us yet, was becoming more and more invaluable. Annoyingly to the more logical part of my mind, his suggestions worked more often than they had any right to.

  Mary hesitated, then nodded. She closed her eyes and took a slow breath.

  Something happened.

  Warm light seeped from beneath her palms, oozing out gently, as if the stone itself had turned porous. The glow followed the carved patterns, flowing upward and outward along the swirling lines, filling them like veins with liquid golden light.

  Mary gasped.

  Her breathing grew heavier, shallower and faster, the telltale signs of mana drain. The light intensified as more of the carvings filled, spreading across the doors in a complex lattice. I tensed, ready to pull her back if she pushed herself too far.

  As she started to shake a bit, the last groove lit up.

  The doors shuddered.

  A deep grinding echoed through the forest as stone shifted against stone. The light flared once, brilliant enough to force us to look away, then dimmed as the massive doors slowly parted.

  Quinn let out a low whistle. “Okay. That was definitely the right input.”

  Rhea laughed softly, eyes wide. “This place looks special.”

  Mary stepped back, chest heaving, then smiled. Not the tired, professional smile she usually wore. This one was bright, almost childlike.

  Beyond the doors, a great stone staircase went straight downward into darkness.

  We stepped inside.

  The light of the forest vanished behind us as the doors closed by themselves with a resonant thud. For a heartbeat, everything went dark.

  Then the walls bloomed with colour.

  Flowers clung to stone and vine alike, petals glowing in shades of violet, teal, and soft gold. Tendrils of light traced along the ceiling, illuminating the passage in a gentle, living radiance.

  Rhea made a small, delighted sound. Alya gasped, mouth open, at the wonder surrounding us.

  Even I had to admit it. This was the first place since the tutorial began that truly felt magical.

  We stood there for a moment, then I broke the spell. “Let’s go; I don’t think this is all this place has to offer.” I told them with a smile.

  Mary nodded eagerly. Rhea spun in place, taking it all in. Alya’s gaze lingered on the walls, wary but still fascinated.

  Only Quinn looked uncomfortable.

  I slowed down besides him and lowered my voice. “Not a flower enthusiast? I’m sure Melissa would love a bouquet…”

  He did not smile. “I don’t like this,” he said quietly. “My stealth skills aren’t working right. They’ve been fuzzy since we stepped inside. And it’s not the flowers. I felt it immediately.”

  That wiped the humour from my mind.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to drop my guard just because it’s pretty,” I said. Then louder, to the others, “Stay sharp. We don’t know what’s waiting down there.”

  They nodded, expressions sobering.

  The stairs went on far longer than they should have. For two full minutes of steady descent, the air was growing warmer and moist, and the feeling I got was of ancient reverence, like stepping inside a cathedral.

  At the bottom, the passage opened into an enormous cavern.

  My breath caught.

  Light poured down from massive roots spread across the ceiling, glowing softly as if sunlight itself had been captured and redirected underground. The walls on our sides were carved with alcoves, and in each stood a statue.

  Elders.

  Not the feral creatures we had fought above, but something older, more dignified. These figures were taller and broader, their forms powerful and deliberate. They wore ceremonial armour, sabatons, bracers and a breastplate. Flowing clothes were depicted underneath, and each of them was holding a pair of curved swords. Their bone masks bore etched patterns that mirrored the swirling carvings on the doors.

  And at the centre of it all knelt a giant statue.

  Twice the size of the others. Its massive sword was planted point-down into the tiled floor, hands resting on the hilt, body bowed in eternal vigilance. Its bulk obscured whatever lay beyond, though I could just make out a raised dais and the edge of some kind of altar behind it.

  Quinn swallowed hard.

  “Oh hell no,” he muttered. “I really don’t like this. Not at all.”

  20 chapters ahead!