Verdant Hollow was nothing like Kael expected.
No gleaming temples. No towering gates. No banners fluttering in sacred wind.
Just mist.
And silence.
Elric said nothing as they followed a narrow trail carved between twisted brambles and sharp-angled rocks. The only sounds were the crunch of gravel underfoot and the occasional whisper of leaves curling against themselves—like they were listening.
The mist thickened with every step, clinging to Kael's skin like cobwebs. His breath came shorter now. Not from exertion—but from something heavier in the air.
Something unnatural.
They came to a clearing.
Elric raised a hand. "You'll walk the rest alone."
Kael turned. "This isn't Verdant Hollow?"
Elric's voice was soft. "The Hollow isn't a place. Not yet. It's a threshold. You cross it only if you're meant to."
He pointed to a narrow path half-swallowed by vines. "The entrance is that way. If you reach it before nightfall, I'll know you're worthy. If not—don't bother returning."
Kael nodded, squared his shoulders, and stepped forward.
Behind him, Elric vanished into the fog.
The path was worse than it looked.
Barbed roots crisscrossed the ground like traps. Flowers the size of his palm opened as he passed, releasing faint clouds of yellow dust. His limbs felt heavier with each breath. Sweat soaked his collar. The light shifted around him—colors bending at odd angles.
And then he heard footsteps.
Behind him.
He turned.
Nothing.
But when he faced forward again, someone was there.
A boy.
Older than him, with cropped hair and a pale scar running down his cheek. His eyes gleamed with something between desperation and fury.
"You," the boy said.
Kael blinked. "Do I—know you?"
"You don't," the boy said. "But I followed you. Saw you during the trial. You weren't supposed to pass."
Kael's hand slipped toward his satchel. "Then why follow me?"
The boy smiled—tight, mean. "Because I didn't pass. But if I take your disk and claim you didn't make it…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
Didn't need to.
The boy lunged.
Kael sidestepped—barely—but the mist made everything slower. Duller. He fumbled for a vial in his pouch, smashed it against a nearby tree. Green smoke burst from the bark, forcing the boy to retreat coughing.
"Back off," Kael warned. "This isn't your path."
But the boy wasn't listening.
His eyes were wild.
Kael drew another vial—this time a coagulant. He threw it.
The boy ducked, rolled, and came up with a knife.
"You think herbs make you special?" he spat. "This world belongs to fighters."
He charged.
Kael dodged the first strike, blocked the second with his forearm, pain lancing up his bones.
The third cut his shoulder.
He gasped, fell back, blood trickling down his sleeve.
Then something… shifted.
Heat pulsed from the pouch at his side.
The bottle.
He didn't touch it.
Didn't even open it.
But a faint green mist spilled from the mouth of the satchel—too light to be seen, but enough for the plants around him to twist. The vines recoiled. The barbed roots hissed.
The boy froze.
"What… what is that?"
Kael didn't answer.
He stood slowly.
The mist curled around his feet, not harming, only hovering. The forest held its breath.
The boy took a step back—then turned and ran.
Kael collapsed to one knee, heart pounding.
The green mist withdrew, vanishing into the satchel like it had never existed.
"You didn't use it."
The voice came from behind.
Kael turned.
Elric stood there, cane in hand, face unreadable.
Kael said nothing.
Elric stepped closer, eyes scanning the disturbed earth, the dying vines, the blood still wet on Kael's sleeve.
"I saw," he said. "I was watching."
Kael swallowed. "I didn't ask for help."
"No," Elric said. "You didn't."
He crouched beside Kael, reached out, and touched the satchel lightly.
"Interesting," he murmured. "I've seen a lot of things in this forest. But not that."
He looked up, and for the first time, his eyes held something almost like respect.
"You could have killed him. But you didn't."
"I didn't need to."
Elric's smile returned—cold and precise.
"You will."
He stood.
"Come. Your trial is over."
Kael blinked. "But… I haven't even made it out of the forest."
Elric didn't turn. "The forest isn't the trial. Not truly."
He paused, his voice quieter now, but sharper.
"The threshold isn't measured in distance—it's measured in choice."
He tapped his cane once against the ground.
"You chose to fight. You chose not to kill. And you survived."
He glanced at Kael then, just once.
"That's how you cross the Hollow."
Then he turned and walked into the mist once more—this time expecting Kael to follow.