They reached the edge of the Velwood by nightfall.
It was unlike any forest they had seen. The trees shimmered with a silvery glow, as if bathed in starlight even without a moon. Their trunks were tall and twisted, their branches curling like fingers that had forgotten how to open. The ground was soft with moss that pulsed faintly, as though it were breathing.
"No birds," Elric muttered. "No insects. Not even wind."
Lyra shivered. "It feels... watched."
Ael stepped forward without hesitation. "This is it. The third shard is here."
Orn had warned them before they left:"The forest will reflect what you hide. Not just from the world… but from yourself. Your fears, your desires—your lies."
The moment they passed the threshold, the air changed.
Time warped.
Distance blurred.
And the silence became unbearable.
—
They walked for hours—or minutes. It was hard to tell. The forest bent reality subtly, almost kindly. The paths shifted gently beneath their feet. Landmarks changed positions. Familiar trails led nowhere. It was like walking through someone else's memory.
Then came the voices.
First, soft.
Then louder.
"Why didn't you save me?"
Lyra turned sharply. "That voice... it sounded like my sister."
Elric swore. "I heard my master's voice. But he's dead."
Ael didn't say what he heard.
But the voice had whispered in his own tone:"You only protect them because you want to be worshiped again."
—
The group was separated not long after.
Ael found himself alone in a clearing where the trees formed a perfect circle. Mist curled along the ground like smoke.
And standing across from him...
Was another Ael.
Identical in form. But his eyes gleamed with cruel confidence. His armor was pristine. His blade shimmered with dark runes.
The other Ael smiled. "You've gotten soft."
Ael said nothing.
"You cry now. You hesitate. You apologize. What happened to the King who feared nothing?"
"I died," Ael replied quietly. "And I came back to change that."
The other Ael's expression soured. "You think guilt makes you better? No. It makes you weak. Emotions slow the sword."
Ael took a step forward. "They make the sword worth lifting."
The false Ael attacked without warning.
Steel met steel—identical blades clashing in a flurry of movement. Every strike mirrored, every block predicted. It was like fighting his shadow.
But the real Ael had changed.
He didn't fight like a machine anymore.
He felt.
And with every blow, he fought not with perfection—
—but with purpose.
"I don't need to be perfect," Ael said as their swords locked.
"I just need to be real."
With a surge of will, he let go of the old rhythm.
He let his instincts flow.
And he struck a blow straight through the illusion's chest.
The false Ael crumbled into ash.
In the center of the clearing, where the illusion had stood, a shard floated—glasslike, humming with golden light.
The third shard.
Ael took it into his hand.
It pulsed once, then dissolved into his chest.
This one felt different.
Warmer.
A shard of hope.
—
Elsewhere in the forest, Lyra knelt before a vision of her sister, hands trembling.
"She blamed me," Lyra whispered. "I couldn't save her."
The image reached out. "You didn't have to save me. You just had to let yourself grieve."
Lyra cried for the first time in years.
And the illusion vanished.
Elric faced the man who once trained him.
"You were never good enough," the specter hissed.
Elric spat on the ground. "No, but I chose to keep going. That's enough."
And the forest released them.
—
They regrouped at dawn near a stream that hadn't been there the night before.
Ael looked at the others.
No words were exchanged.
But something had shifted.
They were no longer just traveling together.
They were bound.
By memory.
By pain.
By growth.
Three shards recovered.
Four more to go.
And the next path pointed not toward land or sky—
—but under the earth, where an empire once buried its sins.