After spending the night in Greenhaven, my father and I were ready to embark on our journey back to the Vale Estate. We were feeling refreshed, clean, and eager to return home. Before departing, we went to speak with Aaron Vale, the Baron, and Chief of Greenhaven.

"Aaron," my father greeted him, "Kai and I will be leaving for the estate shortly. I will have some men sent here to bolster Greenhaven’s defenses. Do you require anything else?"

"No, my lord, that would be more than sufficient," Baron Vale replied. "Would you like a meal before leaving?"

"Unfortunately, we must depart soon," my father declined his offer. "We aim to reach the estate before nightfall tomorrow."

"Very well, then," Baron Vale bid us farewell. "Safe travels to both of you."

We mounted our horses and set out, the villagers of Greenhaven had already taken care of feeding them for us. 

As my father and I rode in silence, soon passing through our camp from 2 nights before. The beauty of the forest around us seemed to contrast with the weight of my thoughts. 

The reality of how easily a life can be lost was a difficult thing to digest, especially when so many of my loved ones were, or had been, on the front lines of battle. I couldn't help but think about Blake, the man who had shaped me and Arden into skilled mages and been like a brother to us for 5 years. He was still on deployment as far as I knew, likely engaged in skirmishes with the other continents.

I hope he’s alright, I thought to myself.

Suddenly, the peaceful sound of nature was interrupted by the rustling of leaves and the snapping of branches. I immediately tensed, my hand moving toward the hilt of my sword. My father also appeared to have noticed, his hand reaching for the grip of his midnight black sword.

"What was that?" I asked, wary of who, or what, may be listening.

"I don't know, but be on your guard," my father replied, his tone tense.

We rode cautiously, our horses picking up on our unease and becoming nervous. The rustling grew louder, and before we could react, something burst from the foliage and surrounded us.

I quickly assessed the situation. There were at least six of them, each towering over us and easily twice our size. Their wooden bodies were thick and sturdy, with branches for arms and roots for legs. They had deep-set eyes that glinted with an inner light, and their movements were incredibly smooth despite their size.

I had never seen one before. But large sentient trees? They must be, my father had spoken of them many times.

I reached for my sword, but before I could even unsheathe it, I felt an impact on the back of my head. The world seemed to tilt on its side, but I was the one falling. The impact had sent me flying off my horse and onto the ground. Darkness began to consume me, the thud of my body hitting the forest floor was the last thing I heard.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a dark and damp place, my body aching and my head pounding. I tried to rub my temples, only to realize that my hands were bound behind my back with what seemed to be mana-suppressing handcuffs. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I could see that I was in some sort of small underground ruin, surrounded by plants and vines. The stone walls were covered in moss, and the air was thick with the sweet scent of blooming flowers. The only light coming from two small fire-lit lamps on opposite walls.

I noticed my father lying on the ground next to me, with the same cuffs on. He was stirring, but still unconscious. I tried to nudge him awake but to no avail.

It was then that I noticed a figure moving towards us from the shadows, and I tensed, ready for another attack. But as it got closer, my heart sank. It was a bandit, wearing the same leather armor as the ones from Greenhaven.

The dryads words flooded my mind, “If you do not heed this advice, I fear the fall of this continent may be imminent.” My hands became sweaty and my breathing sped up.

“Who are you?” I tried to sound confident, but my voice came out raspy and dry. Based on how dehydrated I was, I assumed that we had been here for a day or two while unconscious.

The bandit sneered at me, a cruel smile on his face. "Who am I? You should know better than anyone. I'm the one who's in charge now. You and your old man are at my mercy."

“Silence, Burke.” An authoritative voice echoed throughout the ruin, it was felt more than heard.

A figure stepped out of the shadows, revealing himself to be the source of the voice. He was a tall man with broad shoulders, dressed in elaborate robes adorned with gold and silver thread. His hair was long and white, cascading down his back like a waterfall of snow. His calculating, somewhat familiar, golden eyes met mine, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. Two treants followed behind him, both stopping to a complete halt as soon as they were visible in the dim light.

"You do not hold any power here," he sternly addressed the bandit named Burke. "It appears we have a visitor." 

"Who are you? Why have you brought us here?" I asked, trying to suppress the fear inside me.

"Who I am is of no importance. You are here because I ordered it," the man said, his tone dripping with malice.

"What? We didn’t do anything to you," I replied, trying to remain calm.

"Did you not massacre all of Burke's comrades?" The man inquired with a condescending tone.

“They were going to kill innocent people! Untie me and fight!” I yelled as well as my dry throat would allow.

"Your pleas are... pitiful. Almost enough to stir sympathy within me. Burke, bring the boy some water," the man ordered, never taking his piercing golden gaze off me.

I felt a knot form in my stomach, fear creeping into my chest. I knew that we were in grave danger and I could feel that it was only a matter of time before things took a turn for the worse. 

I looked over at my father, he was beginning to stir. He looked disoriented, but fortunately, he was alive.

“You’re lucky I don’t kill you right now,” Burke spat as he poured dirty water into my mouth from a worn leather pouch.

“Silence, Burke!” The man yelled, shifting his gaze to the bandit. “Speak again and I’ll take your head myself.” He let the words hang for a moment before continuing. “As for the real reason you are here, your father is an... obstacle of sorts for my boss, you are merely unfortunate.”

“Obstacle for what?” My father, dazed, but conscious, asked.

“Ah, you’re finally awake. The renowned Duke Thorin Vale. A once-great warrior, now my prisoner.” The white-haired man taunted.

“Answer my question.” my father spoke, his voice seething with poison.

“That doesn’t matter, I was just ordered to capture you. But I must say, I was surprised that you came to investigate Greenhaven yourself just after one provocation, I hadn’t been ready to capture you so soon. I had assumed it would take at least 2 or 3 more attacks to get a man of your position to venture into the Verdantia Forest. I haven’t a clue what to do with the other 150 bandits who I already hired for the other attacks.” The man said in a sarcastic, mocking tone.

“I went because I actually care about those serving me, whereas you knowingly sent that group to their death, right?” my father retorted, his voice strained.

“You knew?” Burke asked, sounding crestfallen, though I felt no sadness for him. They deserved everything that happened to them.

“Of course I knew they would all die. They were weak,” the man snarled. “Why do you think I had you wait a few days before going back to Greenhaven? I wanted to give our friend Duke Vale here some time to send reinforcements. I thought it would make a bit more noise if you took down one or two Vale soldiers before dying. And what did I say about speaking?” 

As Burke opened his mouth to speak, a blade of ice appeared out of nowhere in the hands of the white-haired man, cleaving through the air and then through Burke's neck with ease. The bandit's head fell to the ground alongside the worn leather pouch full of dirty water that he was holding. Silence took over the room as my father and I exchanged glances, surprised over the

lack of care he showed for his subordinates. This silence was broken by the sound of the ice blade shattering into a thousand tiny pieces.

One of the treants that accompanied the white-haired man stepped forward and retrieved Burke's lifeless body and head. He carried them out of the stone room overrun by vines, leaving only a pool of crimson blood behind and the water pouch next to it.

“Yes, I did send them to their deaths,” the man continued as if nothing had happened. “Those foolish emotions of yours will be the death of you and your son,” he warned my father, his golden eyes locking onto him.

I had to find a way out of this ruin, a way to get us both to safety. But I also knew that it was unlikely that we would make it out alive. The man in front of us was powerful, and he commanded a group of at least 150 bandits and treants. We were completely outnumbered.

The man with white hair and golden eyes suddenly spun around and strode out of the room, leaving us in the company of a solitary treant. This massive being lumbered over to a corner, where I saw our possessions, including my sword, Mistral, lying undisturbed.