Chapter 9 – The Passage of Time

The years had stretched on in the Dark Forest, each one blending into the other like the endless cycle of night and day. Jin was no longer the same boy who had stumbled into this cursed place. His body had grown, the muscles lean and strong from years of survival. His once-childish face had hardened, the innocence of youth replaced by a quiet determination. The forest had carved its mark on him, but it had also shaped him into something different—something more.

The fire inside him, that burning hunger, had grown as well. It was no longer a whisper in the back of his mind, something to push aside. It had become a constant presence, like a shadow that followed him no matter where he went. And with it came power. Power that Jin didn't fully understand but could feel surging through his veins.

He had learned many things in these years, but his understanding of his own abilities was still hazy. His power didn't come in the form of brute strength or a weapon's edge. It was something more elusive, like the flicker of a flame or the edge of a dream. It wasn't something he could simply summon at will. No, his abilities had to be nurtured, coaxed into existence, like a seed sprouting from the earth.

The blood remembers, the voice had whispered once—those words still haunted him, even now. Jin could sense it, that ancient connection. But it hadn't always been clear to him. At first, he hadn't understood. How could he? A boy lost in a forest, with no memory of his past, his family, or his name.

It wasn't until the past few years that the truth had begun to unravel, like a thread pulled from the fabric of his mind. Flashes of memories, like broken fragments of a forgotten past, would slip through the cracks in his consciousness. A face—a woman, her features strikingly familiar. An ancient, towering figure, with eyes that burned like the sun. Whispers in the night that spoke of Soul Forging and an ancient bloodline that had once been great, rivaling even the gods.

In the silence of the forest, Jin would hear those whispers, quiet yet insistent, urging him to remember. Sometimes, the dreams would come: images of a forgotten temple, of powerful figures who had bent the very elements to their will, their bodies glowing with an otherworldly light. Each time he awoke, the memories were gone, as fleeting as smoke in the wind. But they left behind a growing certainty—that he was not who he had once thought he was.

His blood, his lineage, was tied to something far older than the forest itself, something forgotten by time. And as the days passed, the power of his ancestors—Soul Forging, or perhaps something even greater—had begun to stir within him.

Jin stood now in the clearing, his eyes narrowed as he focused on the still air before him. He could feel the pulse of the forest, its beating rhythm. He had learned to listen to it, to sync with it, and now he could shape it.

With a slow breath, he extended his hand, palm up. His fingers twitched, and the leaves around him stirred—not from wind, but from his will. The forest responded. The plants bent toward him, their leaves rustling with a quiet, almost reverent sound. A low hum vibrated in his chest, a sensation that made him feel connected to everything, as if the forest itself was alive inside of him.

"Is this the power of my blood?" he murmured to himself, his voice barely a whisper.

The answer came not in words but in a deeper understanding that bloomed within him. It wasn't just the forest he could influence. It was life itself. His power wasn't about domination; it was about connection. He was part of something much larger than himself, a thread woven through the fabric of existence.

But even as he marveled at this newfound knowledge, doubt lingered. Was this the full extent of his power? What more could he do?

I need to understand more, Jin thought, clenching his fist. I need to push farther, test my limits.

The power was there, waiting for him to seize it. But each time he reached for it, something held him back—fear. Fear that once he fully unlocked his abilities, he wouldn't be able to control them. Fear that they would consume him, as they had his ancestors.

The thought of his lineage, the forgotten bloodline that had once rivaled the gods, filled him with both awe and unease. What had happened to them? Why had they been erased from history? And what exactly had they been capable of? The more he learned about his own abilities, the more the questions grew.

Jin turned his gaze to the sky, watching the shadows of the canopy dance above him. The whispers of the forest had become more frequent in recent years, as though it was trying to tell him something, warn him of something. He didn't know what it was, but he could feel it—a deep, unsettling presence. The same presence that had watched him all those years ago, the one with the glowing eyes and the voice that had spoken of him not belonging. Was it still out there? Watching? Waiting?

The thought made his stomach twist. Yet, deep down, a strange anticipation stirred within him. There was something coming, something important. He could feel it in the very air.

Jin clenched his fists, his resolve hardening.

"Not yet," he whispered to himself. "I'm not ready yet."

But the day was approaching when he would be. When his power would be fully awakened. When the forest would no longer be enough.

He had to leave. But first, he needed to understand what was happening to him. And to do that, he had to continue moving forward—no matter the cost.