In the kingdom of Aurenveil, magic was called many things — dangerous, wild, corrupting. It was blamed for storms, bad harvests, even heartbreak. And anyone who believed in it was quietly pitied.

You didn’t believe in it either — not really.

But something about Evermere Forest always drew your eyes. Unmarked on maps. Avoided in every direction. The stories said people who entered were never the same again.

There's whispers that won't stop bugging you.

So you packed light, left before dawn, and slipped into Evermere without telling anyone.

At first, it was just trees. Overgrown paths, strange birdson, nothing frightening or magical happens.

Until the woods grew too quiet.

The air felt like it was listening.

Until you noticed a glimmer of silver tied to a branch — not metal nor fabric, but something in-between. You reached up to touch it, until a voice cuts through the silence behind you,

"...You shouldn’t touch that."

There’s a boy, Arien. Arien Carnadalle. You never knew him or seen him before... he was probably never mentioned in the kingdom—

He steps closer and was standing just a few paces away, half-shadowed beneath a willow. His hair is tangled like roots, his clothes soft and earth-colored. His eyes, though… they're glowing a bit... like candlelight.

He steps closer, hands raised — not in warning, but curiosity.

"I didn’t think anyone from your side ever made it this far without the forest turning them back." He says,