The sky never cleared over the southern hills.
This place was quiet while the world began to wake up and the stars faded away. The trees seemed to lean in, as if they were watching, and the clouds hung low and thick like smoke.
At the edge where the grass meets the mist, Riven stood.
"Forest of Balinha…"
The name felt strange even on his tongue.
Back in the city, people talked in whispers about this place.
A forbidden forest.
Those who entered came back changed—or didn't come back at all.
He glanced down at the faintly glowing mark on his chest.
The chain symbol burned slightly brighter than before, like it knew something he didn't.
"This place… it reeks of death. And yet… this is the only path forward? I am screwed."
He stepped into the fog.
The older trees in this area were thicker, more twisted, and in some places, blackened as if they had been burned years before. The mist clung to his legs like it didn't want to let go, and roots curled out of the ground like claws.
Hours went by. Or perhaps minutes. Here, time felt off.
And then—
He heard it.
A low growl.
Not too loud. The back of his neck, however, pricked.
Slowly, he turned his head. His eyes scanned the mist. A shadow shifted between the trees.
Then it appeared.
A wolf.
It's not your typical one, though.
Its fur was jet black—darker than the night itself.
Its eyes were pure white. No pupils. No light.
All that remained was emptiness, and its teeth were too long and too jagged.
It didn't growl.
It didn't leap.
It simply gazed.
As if it were thinking.
"What… is that?" Riven thought in fear.
Then it moved.
Quick.
A haze in the mist.
Riven felt the rush of air as the wolf lunged past him, its claws scraping the bark behind him, and he barely managed to duck in time.
His heart thumping, he staggered.
"It's too fast. My eyes can't keep up with it. This forest is indeed dangerous."
Suddenly, the wolf turned and was once again chasing after him.
In a moment of desperation, Riven flung out his arm instead of carefully planning his next move.
The mark on his chest blazed.
And the chains answered.
They burst out from under his skin. Glowing, black tendrils of energy looked like twisted iron and burned with violet flames.
They didn't wait for his orders.
They struck.
One chain shot past Riven's shoulder, slamming into the wolf mid-leap.
Another wrapped around its leg, dragging it mid-air and slamming it to the ground.
The beast howled.
The chains pulled tighter, devouring it.
As the wolf screamed and its body twitched violently as the chains tightened, drained, and fed, the ground shook slightly beneath them.
Riven's gaze expanded.
He sensed it.
The vitality.
Flowing into him. Not warm. Not chilly.
Simply empty.
"Am I… absorbing it?"
The chains lashed again—three, four, five times—faster than thought.
Riven jumped back instinctively, watching as the beast was lifted and smashed down again.
And then—
Silence.
He felt the chains creep back under his skin.
The beast was reduced to a blackened husk that was gradually turning to ash.
Riven stood frozen, panting.
Then the mark started to give a heat, to make Riven snap out and move.
Riven kept walking.
Through the fog,
Through the dead roots,
Through whispers that he wasn't sure were real.
Here, the light never changes.
The atmosphere is filled with silence, coldness, and mist.
However, the pull persisted. Forward at all times.
Hours went by.
His legs were burned, and his feet ached; however, he pressed on.
The ground eventually sloped downward, and the trees started to thin out a little.
A tiny cave mouth was concealed there, surrounded by thick moss and stones.
He stopped outside.
The mark pulsed again.
"Seems like this is where it wants me to go…"
He had no idea what was inside.
However, whatever it was...
He had already gone too far to go back.