The Shattered Prophecy

Eryk walked out of the cave, the weight of the days spent in solitude and survival still heavy on his shoulders, but now tempered by a newfound sense of power. The air felt different as it brushed against his skin—thicker, charged with an energy he couldn’t quite explain. With each step, he felt more attuned to the forest, the trees, and the very earth beneath him. He had spent the past few days fighting, eating, and sleeping, allowing his body to grow stronger, faster, and more in tune with the world around him. But something was still missing.

Despite his newfound energy, he still couldn’t manifest the sword he had seen before. The feeling of power lingered deep within him, but the blade itself remained elusive, like an extension of his will that hadn’t fully materialized. He could feel that he was growing more powerful, but it was a slow process, as though he was still unlocking something deep within his soul.

For days, he wandered deeper into the forest, drawn by something unseen. The dense trees were alive with the sounds of wildlife, but there was something else in the air, something he couldn’t quite place. He sensed the approach of danger, the subtle shift in the energy of the forest, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.