Realm Shift Initiated…Destination: Glade of Withered TruthsKnown as: The Deepwood
"Some realms punish with fire. This one punishes with memory."— Unknown Deepwood Warden
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The realm gate pulsed once — and swallowed them whole.
Kael didn't scream. Neither did Lysara. The transition was silent, suffocating, as if even time forgot to breathe.
Then — the shift.
Where ember winds once howled, a thick silence took root. The very air clung to their skin like moss, humid and heavy with grief. Blackened trees arched above them like ancient judges, their trunks veined with scars that whispered when brushed.
A realm of the dead? No.
A realm that refused to forget.
The Deepwood.A land not lost — but left behind.
Kael's boots crunched over a layer of brittle leaves. Not one of them green. All dry. All trembling.
Lysara stepped carefully beside him, her fingers trailing a glowing vine. The moment she touched it, it recoiled, vanishing into the bark like a wounded animal.
"What is this place?" she whispered, her voice barely carrying through the dense, living air.
Kael glanced upward — and the trees seemed to lean closer.
"It's a realm that never heals," he murmured. "Where regret lingers like fog."
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The Deepwood Realm
Once a haven of balance and harmony, the Deepwood fell during the Aeonfall.In that cataclysm, the realm's soul fractured — and its pain took root.Now, every tree remembers. Every vine judges.Grief here isn't just felt — it's grown.Any pain you carry… will take form.
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Not long into their trek, the change began.
Kael heard it first. A whisper on the wind — no, beneath it. Twisting through the branches like a curse.
"You let us burn…"
He stopped walking. The voice… he knew it. Or thought he did.
Lysara froze beside him, staring at a tree wrapped in thorned bark. Her breath caught.
"You didn't save me…"
Different voices. Different wounds.
"This place," Kael said, sparks dancing at his fingertips, "it's not just alive."
"It's watching," Lysara finished, tightening her grip on her blade.
Then — the first test.
An arrow hissed through the gloom, slicing between them and embedding itself into a nearby trunk.
Kael spun. Lysara ducked.
From the shifting shadows emerged a figure cloaked in torn leathers, her face painted in ash-stripes like old war paint. Eyes burned with a storm — not of fire, but of betrayal.
Her voice was low. Wrathful.
"Kael Vireth."
Kael's heart plummeted.
"Serin…?"
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Serin Vale
Formerly: Commander, Durnhollow Strike UnitStatus: Presumed Killed in Action — Fall of DurnhollowCurrent: Deepwood Warden — Memorybound to the Glade
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Serin didn't smile. Her hands went to the twin blades strapped to her back — curved and sharp, forged from thorned bark and bone.
"You watched us die," she hissed, stepping forward. "You let the fires take Durnhollow — and ran."
Kael's eyes widened. "I thought you were—"
"You didn't think at all!"
Roots burst from the soil. Fast. Snaring Lysara before she could counter. She struggled, flames flaring — but the roots sapped heat, draining magic.
Serin lunged.
Kael raised his blade just in time — blocking her first strike. But each blow wasn't just physical. It was accusation.
"We trusted you, Kael!"
"You made us believe we could win!"
"You left us to burn!"
He parried, ducked, sidestepped.
But he didn't strike back.
He couldn't.
"I'm not here to fight you!" he shouted, fending off another slice that nicked his arm.
Serin's eyes gleamed like embers barely held back.
"Too late. You already lost that right."
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Memorybound Combat
In the Deepwood, those with unresolved pasts may bond to the realm itself.The forest gives them strength — at a cost.They remember everything. And they make others remember too.
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Kael's hands trembled. He couldn't feel the emberblade's heat anymore.
Not out of fear — but shame.
Serin's attacks came faster, but her strikes faltered — not from lack of strength, but the memories behind each one. Her own pain weighed her down, rooted her.
The battlefield was more than stone and moss — it was memory.
And both of them were bleeding from it.
Then, a crack of light burst above the canopy — high above them, a silver-robed figure floated, legs crossed mid-air, scribbling into a glowing scroll with a quill made of smoke.
The observer spoke, voice quiet.
"Kael has entered phase two of the Ascension Path."
Behind them, from the deeper gloom, a second figure emerged — tall, shrouded in shadow, cloak stitched with blinking embers.
"And the third fragment is near," the shadow said.
The observer didn't look up.
"Let the realm break him. If not…"
"We will."
Back on the forest floor, Kael's knees nearly buckled.
Serin stood over him, blade raised.
But for a moment — just a moment — she hesitated.
A flicker. A crack.
Lysara broke free from the roots, sliding beside Kael, shielding him.
"Enough!" she cried. "He's not who he was. He chose to face this realm. Not to conquer it — but to make amends."
Serin's blade shook.
Her hands, once so steady, now trembled like autumn leaves.
"Then prove it," she whispered.
"Let the Deepwood judge you both."
And with that — the roots opened.
A path deeper into the forest revealed itself, lined with whispering vines and glowing fungi.
Kael looked at Lysara, then at Serin.
He stepped forward, heart heavy — but fire steady.
Because this time, he wouldn't run.
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End Chapter 34: Into the Deepwood — Echoes of the Unforgiven
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Next Up:
Chapter 35 — Roots of Regret: When Memory Fights Back
Kael must descend into the Deepwood's core — and relive the day Durnhollow fell.But will the truth be enough to free Serin from her pain… or will it break him all over again?