The village of Cedorin stirred with an uneasy energy as dawn spilled across the fields, painting the frost-laden rooftops in hues of gold and pale blue. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, and the faint sounds of livestock broke the crisp morning air. Yet, this morning felt different. The villagers moved with hushed voices and darting glances, their attention drawn to the outskirts of their small community where the Wizard’s Tower loomed.
The tower had been there for weeks, its sudden appearance a point of confusion and contention. The structure was unnaturally smooth, its dark stone spiraling toward the heavens like a thorn piercing the sky. Windows glimmered faintly, as if alive with some inner light, and though no villager dared approach too closely, whispers abounded about the man who lived within—Aledon Veyric, the wizard sent to investigate the disturbances plaguing the nearby Forest of Astram.
Nimrielle stood in the village square, her delicate porcelain-like features catching the morning light. She adjusted the strap of her satchel, filled with healing salves and bundles of freshly gathered herbs. Her gaze lingered on the tower’s silhouette, a faint unease curling in her chest. She had heard tales of Aledon’s prowess, but meeting him in person was another matter entirely. The villagers had not taken kindly to his presence, and Nim feared that his arrival might further complicate her already tenuous relationship with them.
She turned her attention back to her routine, hoping the day would pass without incident, but fate had other plans.
The wizard arrived late in the morning, his figure cutting a sharp silhouette against the pale winter sky. Aledon Veyric was not what the villagers expected. He was tall and lean, his face lined with the marks of a man who had seen too much of the world. His hair, streaked with silver, framed piercing gray eyes that seemed to see through everything and everyone. He carried himself with the poise of someone who knew his worth but had no need to flaunt it.
Trailing behind him was a girl no older than sixteen. Her auburn hair was tied back in a simple braid, and her green eyes sparkled with curiosity and mischief. She held a satchel similar to Nim’s, though it bulged with scrolls and vials rather than herbs. The girl—Eliya, Nim recalled from whispered gossip—seemed to radiate an infectious energy that sharply contrasted her father’s reserved demeanor.
The village square grew silent as Aledon approached, his boots crunching on the frosted earth. The villagers watched from doorways and windows, their faces a mixture of suspicion and reluctant curiosity. Nim lingered near the baker’s stall, her presence almost unnoticed amid the tension.
“Good morning,” Aledon said, his voice calm and measured. He stopped in the center of the square, his gaze sweeping over the gathered faces. “I am here to assist. The disturbances in the forest threaten us all, and I believe that by working together, we can find a solution.”
There was a long pause. Then, as expected, Kalis, the village priest, stepped forward. His crimson robes fluttered slightly in the breeze, his expression one of thinly veiled disdain.
“The village has managed without outside interference for generations,” Kalis said, his voice ringing with authority. “Your presence here is neither wanted nor necessary.”
Aledon’s face betrayed no emotion. “The forest’s magic grows unstable. If left unchecked, it will spill into your fields, your homes, your lives. I am not here to impose, Priest Kalis. I am here to protect.”
Kalis opened his mouth to retort, but a soft commotion interrupted him. Eliya had wandered away from her father and was now standing before Nimrielle, her eyes wide with awe.
“Are you... Nimrielle?” she asked, her voice tinged with excitement.
Nim blinked, caught off guard. “Yes,” she replied cautiously.
Eliya’s face lit up. “Father told me about you. He said you’re connected to the forest, that you can sense its magic.” She leaned in, as if sharing a secret. “Is it true?”
Nim hesitated. The girl’s openness was disarming, and she found herself nodding before she could think better of it. “In a way, yes. I serve as a caretaker of sorts.”
“That’s incredible!” Eliya exclaimed. “I’ve always wanted to see the forest up close, but Father says it’s too dangerous. Maybe you could show me someday?”
Before Nim could respond, a sharp voice cut through the air. “Eliya,” Aledon called, his tone firm but not unkind. “Stay close.”
Eliya gave Nim an apologetic smile. “Sorry. He worries too much.”
Nim watched her return to her father’s side, feeling a strange warmth in her chest. Eliya’s enthusiasm was a rarity in the village, and it reminded Nim of the friendships she had always longed for but never quite found.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
As the day wore on, tensions simmered beneath the surface. Aledon met with the village council in the Sun Temple, the air within thick with unspoken hostility. Outside, Nim waited, her unease growing.
When the wizard finally emerged, his expression was unreadable, but Kalis’s scowl spoke volumes. The meeting had done little to bridge the gap between them.
To demonstrate his intent, Aledon performed a small spell in the square—an act meant to reassure the villagers of his capability and goodwill. He held out his hand, murmured a few arcane words, and conjured a soft, golden light that spread warmth through the crowd.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, whispers broke out. Some villagers looked impressed, others fearful. Kalis, however, seemed unimpressed, his frown deepening.
The spell’s success was overshadowed by an unexpected ripple of energy that emanated from the Forest of Astram. Nim felt it instantly—a subtle, unsettling shift that made the metaphorical hairs on her neck stand on end. She glanced toward the forest, her heart racing. Something was wrong.
Eliya noticed her reaction and moved to her side. “You felt it, didn’t you?” she asked quietly.
Nim nodded, her porcelain-like fingers tightening around her satchel. “Yes. The forest... it’s changing.”
Their gazes met, and for the first time, Nim saw genuine understanding in someone else’s eyes. Eliya wasn’t just curious—she understood the weight of what Nim carried.
As the villagers began to disperse, still muttering about the wizard and his magic, Nim remained rooted in place, staring at the distant treeline. Whatever was happening in the forest, she couldn’t face it alone.
And now, it seemed, she wouldn’t have to.
The late afternoon light cast long, golden shadows over Cedorin’s village square. Most of the villagers had returned to their routines, leaving the air quieter but no less tense. Nimrielle lingered at the edges, her porcelain-like skin catching the sun’s waning rays as her thoughts churned. She couldn’t shake the sensation of being caught in a shifting current—one where the ripples of the wizard’s arrival mingled with the forest’s growing unease.
Aledon Veyric approached with deliberate steps, his long coat billowing faintly in the breeze. Nim turned toward him as he stopped a respectful distance away, his sharp gaze softened by what she guessed was an attempt at sincerity.
“I hope I’m not intruding,” he said, his voice calm and measured.
Nim’s eyes narrowed slightly, her posture remaining guarded. “You’re already an intrusion, wizard. But I suspect you’re aware of that.”
Aledon’s lips twitched into what might have been a smile. “Fair enough. I wanted a word, though. Privately, if you’re willing.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Nim nodded, leading him to the edge of the square where they were less likely to be overheard.
“I came here for the same reason I suspect you remain,” he began, folding his arms. “The Forest of Astram is disturbed, and the source of that disturbance is growing. You’ve felt it, haven’t you?”
Nim’s gaze sharpened. “The forest is my home. I feel every tremor, every breath it takes.”
“Then we have common ground,” Aledon replied. “I don’t mean to overstep, but I believe the village’s proximity to the forest makes it part of the problem—and the solution. I intend to stay and study the situation further. With your cooperation, I believe we can stabilize whatever is happening before it escalates.”
Nim crossed her arms, her expression skeptical. “And why should I trust you? The forest has survived without your interference for generations.”
“Because this isn’t a natural cycle,” Aledon said, his tone growing firmer. “I’ve seen signs of a fractured artifact—one tied to the forest’s balance. If we don’t act, the imbalance will worsen, and I doubt the village will escape unscathed.”
For a moment, Nim remained silent, her thoughts a tangle of doubt and cautious curiosity. She hated the idea of relying on an outsider, but the growing disturbance in the forest was undeniable.
“I’ll consider it,” she said finally. “But only because the forest’s safety comes first.”
Aledon inclined his head. “That’s all I ask. My tower is open to you if you wish to discuss this further.”
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Nim to wrestle with her unease.
As the sun dipped lower, Nim returned to her garden, hoping the familiar task of tending to her herbs would steady her thoughts. She wasn’t alone for long. A cheerful voice called out, breaking her concentration.
“Miss Nim! Wait up!”
She looked up to see Eliya jogging toward her, her face alight with curiosity. The girl skidded to a halt, her braid swinging as she leaned forward with eager eyes.
“Your garden is beautiful!” Eliya exclaimed, peering at the rows of carefully cultivated plants. “What’s this one? And that? Oh, are these Silverleaf?”
Nim blinked, momentarily disarmed by the teenager’s enthusiasm. “Yes, those are Silverleaf,” she replied, her tone softening despite herself. “They’re useful for calming burns and soothing anxiety.”
Eliya clapped her hands together. “I knew it! Father told me about your skills, but I didn’t think I’d get to see them up close. Do you think you could teach me? I’d love to learn more about magic and healing.”
The girl’s earnestness was infectious, and Nim found herself nodding almost against her better judgment. “If you’re willing to listen and learn, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”
Eliya beamed. “I promise I’ll be the best student you’ve ever had!”
The forest’s edge loomed dark and quiet as dusk settled over the village. Nim walked with Eliya toward the tower, her senses on high alert. That faint ripple of energy she’d felt earlier was stronger now, like a distant pulse calling her deeper into the woods. She paused, her gaze fixed on the trees.
“Something’s wrong,” she murmured.
Eliya followed her gaze. “What is it?”
“The forest is restless. I need to investigate.”
“I’ll come with you!” Eliya said, stepping forward eagerly.
Nim shook her head. “No. It’s too dangerous. Go back to your father and tell him what I’ve sensed. I’ll handle this.”
Reluctantly, Eliya nodded and ran off toward the tower while Nim stepped into the shadows of the forest.
The deeper Nim ventured, the more unsettling the signs became. Roots twisted unnaturally, and patches of withered foliage dotted the forest floor. The air felt heavier, tinged with unstable magic.
Stopping near a gnarled tree, Nim knelt and placed her hands on the ground. She whispered the incantation for Whispering Roots, focusing her energy on tracing the disturbance’s source.
She felt the familiar tug of the spell as it took hold, and a faint trail of glowing roots appeared, leading further into the forest. Rolling a 13, she breathed a sigh of relief. ‘At least this part worked,’ she thought.
As she followed the trail, a flicker of movement caught her eye. A small Etherling emerged from the shadows, its translucent form shimmering faintly. It looked harmless, more curious than threatening, and Nim let out a soft breath.
The creature tilted its head, observing her before disappearing into the trees. The encounter, though brief, left her unsettled. If such beings were being drawn here, the imbalance might be worse than she feared.
When Nim returned to the forest’s edge, Aledon and Eliya were waiting. The wizard held a glowing crystal that pulsed faintly in time with the forest’s energy.
“I take it you found something,” Aledon said, his gaze serious.
Nim nodded. “The forest is reacting to the imbalance. I followed a trail, but I need more time to understand what’s causing it.”
Aledon held up the crystal. “I believe the Heartstone is fractured. If we don’t act, the disturbances will continue to spread. I’d like to work with you to stabilize it.”
Nim hesitated, her instincts screaming against trusting him. But the memory of the Etherling and the twisted roots weighed heavily on her mind.
“Fine,” she said at last. “But don’t expect me to follow you blindly.”
Aledon smiled faintly. “I wouldn’t dare.”
Together, they walked toward the tower, a fragile alliance forming under the glow of the rising moon.