Chapter 2: The Awakening in BlackwoodDarkness.

It wrapped around Gin like a shroud, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, he felt like he was sinking into an abyss, lost in an endless void. Then, a voice—deep, ancient, and unshakable—echoed through his mind.

"You are not ready... but you must be. The darkness has already seen you."

Gin's eyes snapped open.

A sharp, cold sensation burned against his skin. He gasped, his breath coming in ragged gulps as he bolted upright. The world around him spun, and he pressed his hands against the damp earth, steadying himself. His head throbbed, and his body felt as if it had been plunged into ice.

The forest was eerily silent. No wind, no rustling leaves, not even the distant chirp of crickets. The only sound was his own rapid breathing.

Where am I?

His memory came rushing back. The village. The old man's warning. The strange light in the forest. And then… the figure with molten gold eyes.

Gin's gaze darted around, searching for any sign of the mysterious being. The glowing presence was gone, but something felt different. He wasn't just in the Blackwood Forest—he was deeper than he had ever dared to venture before. The trees loomed taller, their bark twisted into unnatural shapes. The mist that clung to the ground shimmered with an unnatural, eerie glow.

Then he noticed something else.

The ground beneath him was scorched. A perfect ring of blackened earth surrounded him, as if a fire had erupted but left him unharmed.

His fingers trembled as he touched the charred soil. What happened here?

He didn't have time to dwell on it. A sound—low, guttural, and inhuman—echoed from the shadows.

Gin froze.

He wasn't alone.

A Predator in the Dark

Slowly, he turned his head toward the noise. In the dim light, something massive lurked between the trees. Glowing red eyes, sharp as embers, burned through the darkness.

A creature stepped forward—its form twisted and monstrous. It had the body of a wolf, but its fur was pitch-black, shifting like living shadows. Its claws dug into the earth, steam rising from where they touched the ground. But its most terrifying feature was its mouth—lined with jagged, uneven teeth, too many for a normal beast.

Gin's heart slammed against his chest.

A Shadowfang.

The name surfaced in his mind, drawn from whispered tales of hunters who never returned. The Shadowfang was no ordinary predator—it was a creature born from darkness itself.

And it was staring straight at him.

The beast growled, lowering its head. A predator preparing to strike.

Run.

Gin's instincts screamed at him to flee, but his legs wouldn't move. His fingers brushed against the hilt of his dagger, but he knew—he was no warrior. His training consisted of chopping wood, hammering metal, and occasionally sparring with sticks. He was not ready for this.

But the Shadowfang didn't care.

With a snarl, it lunged.

The First Battle

Time slowed.

Gin barely managed to throw himself to the side as the creature's claws slashed through the air, missing him by inches. He hit the ground hard, rolling over dead leaves and damp soil.

The Shadowfang spun with unnatural speed, its tail whipping through the air like a black whip. Gin barely raised his arms in time as the tail struck him, sending him crashing against the base of a tree. Pain exploded through his ribs.

He gasped, struggling to stand. The beast was already moving again.

Too fast. Too strong.

It lunged again, jaws snapping. Gin reacted purely on instinct. He yanked his dagger from his belt and slashed blindly. The blade cut across the beast's face, but instead of blood, wisps of black smoke hissed from the wound.

The Shadowfang recoiled, letting out a bone-chilling screech.

Gin's heart pounded. It felt pain. It can be hurt.

The monster's body began to shift, its wounds sealing almost instantly. But in that moment, Gin saw something—a faint glow beneath its skin, pulsing like a heartbeat.

A core.

Stories spoke of creatures of darkness having a core—a small, vulnerable point of pure energy within their bodies. Destroying it was the only way to truly kill them.

But how? He barely had the strength to stand.

The Shadowfang growled, its eyes burning with rage. It lunged one last time, faster than before.

Gin had no choice.

With all the strength he had left, he threw himself forward instead of backward, surprising the beast. He slid beneath its body, dagger clenched tightly.

And then—

He plunged the blade directly into the glowing core beneath its chest.

The world exploded in light.

A piercing howl shook the air as the Shadowfang convulsed. Dark smoke erupted from its body, swirling violently. Gin barely had time to yank his dagger free before the creature burst apart, vanishing into the wind like ash.

Then, silence.

Gin collapsed to his knees, panting. His entire body trembled, his arms weak from exhaustion. He looked at his dagger—its blade, once ordinary, now pulsed with a faint silver glow.

What… just happened?

The Aftermath

The forest remained still, but Gin no longer felt safe. Something had changed. The air around him felt different, charged with an energy he couldn't explain.

Slowly, he forced himself to his feet. He needed to get back to the village. He needed to tell someone about this.

But as he turned, a voice echoed through the trees.

"Not bad… for a blacksmith's son."

Gin's breath caught.

The golden-eyed figure was back, standing a few feet away, watching him.

The stranger stepped forward, a faint smirk on their lips.

"Welcome to the real world, Gin. Your journey has only just begun."

Then, with a flick of their hand, the world shattered around him.

Gin's vision blurred as the world twisted around him. His body felt weightless, as if he were falling through an endless void. The last thing he remembered was the golden-eyed figure's cryptic words before everything shattered.

Then—light.

It wasn't the warm glow of a sunrise or the flickering flames of a forge. This light was cold, vast, and stretched infinitely in all directions. He was floating in a space that wasn't quite real, yet not entirely a dream.

Footsteps echoed from behind him.

Gin turned sharply, his hand gripping the dagger that still pulsed faintly with silver energy. The golden-eyed figure stood a few feet away, watching him with an expression that was both amused and calculating.

"You're full of surprises," the stranger mused, arms crossed. "Most wouldn't have survived a Shadowfang without formal training. But you… you adapted. Impressive."

Gin narrowed his eyes, studying the figure more closely. The stranger was tall and lean, dressed in dark robes that shimmered like shifting shadows. Their features were sharp, almost otherworldly, and those golden eyes—they weren't human.

"Who are you?" Gin demanded. "Where am I?"

The figure smiled. "Names are powerful, boy. For now, you can call me Solis."

Gin wasn't satisfied with the answer, but he had bigger concerns. "What is this place? What happened to the forest?"

Solis took a slow step forward. "This is the Threshold—a place between the waking world and something… deeper." He gestured around them. "You stand at the crossroads of your fate, Gin. You've touched something ancient. Something that shouldn't have awakened so soon."

Gin clenched his jaw. "What do you mean?"

Solis sighed, his gaze becoming unreadable. "The power inside you—the force that burned the ground where you lay, the reason that dagger of yours now carries a trace of silver flame—it isn't ordinary." He tilted his head. "Tell me, have you ever felt different? Stronger? Faster? Or have you heard whispers in the dark?"

Gin's blood ran cold.

He had felt different his entire life. Strange surges of energy when he was angry. Shadows flickering in his peripheral vision when he was alone. The way he always sensed danger before it arrived.

But he had ignored it.

Until now.

"I…" He hesitated. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Solis smirked. "You will soon." He flicked his wrist, and suddenly, the vast emptiness around them shifted.

The cold glow vanished.

The Return to Reality

Gin gasped as he awoke with a jolt, his body aching all over. He was back in the forest—or at least, near the edge of it. The mist was gone, the trees looked normal again, and the sun was beginning to rise.

Had it all been a dream?

But then he saw it—his dagger, still glowing faintly with silver light.

His heart pounded. It wasn't a dream.

"Gin!"

A voice—familiar and panicked—called his name. He turned just in time to see Keen sprinting toward him, her long brown hair flying behind her, her face tight with worry.

She dropped to her knees beside him, gripping his shoulders. "What the hell happened?! You were gone all night! The entire village is looking for you!"

Gin struggled to find the right words. How could he even explain? Oh, you know, I just fought a monster, met a mysterious golden-eyed figure, and apparently, I have some kind of weird power now.

Instead, he exhaled and shook his head. "I… I got lost."

Keen didn't look convinced. "Your clothes are torn, and your arm is bleeding." She grabbed his wrist, inspecting a shallow cut he hadn't even noticed. "This wasn't from getting lost, Gin."

He winced but said nothing.

Keen's amber eyes narrowed. "You're hiding something."

Gin swallowed hard. He had always trusted Keen—she was his closest friend, the one who always stood by him, even when the rest of the village looked down on him for being a blacksmith's son.

But this… this was bigger than either of them.

"I can't explain it yet," he admitted, his voice low. "Not until I understand it myself."

Keen's expression softened slightly, but concern still lingered in her eyes. She sighed and pulled a small cloth from her pouch, wrapping it around his arm. "Fine. But you better not do something this stupid again."

Gin managed a small smile. "No promises."

Keen scoffed but helped him to his feet. "Come on. The village elder wants to see you."

Gin tensed.

The elder?

That couldn't be good.

The walk back to the village was tense. Every step felt heavier, like the weight of the past night was sinking into Gin's bones. He couldn't stop thinking about Solis's words. You've touched something ancient. Something that shouldn't have awakened.

What did that mean?

As they entered the village, people stared. Whispered. Some looked relieved, while others… afraid.

The elder's house was at the center of the village. It was an old structure, built from stone instead of wood, with symbols carved into its foundation—runes that no one in the village could read anymore.

Gin and Keen stepped inside, where the elder—an aging man with white hair and piercing gray eyes—sat by the fire, waiting.

"Sit," the elder said. His voice was calm but firm.

Gin obeyed.

The elder studied him for a long moment. "You encountered something in the Blackwood, didn't you?"

Gin's breath caught.

How did he know?

"I…" He hesitated, then nodded. "Yes."

The elder closed his eyes as if he had been expecting this. When he opened them again, his gaze was sharp. "Then, you must leave this village."

Gin's heart stopped.

"What?!" Keen shouted, stepping forward. "You can't just—"

The elder raised a hand, silencing her. "It is not a punishment. It is a necessity." He looked at Gin. "The power inside you has awakened. If you stay, you will bring danger to us all."

Gin clenched his fists. "What danger?"

The elder's voice dropped to a whisper. "The ones who hunt people like you."

A chill ran down Gin's spine.

Keen turned to the elder, furious. "You're seriously telling him to just leave everything behind?"

The elder met her gaze. "If he stays, the village will burn."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

Gin swallowed hard, his mind spinning. He had grown up here. This was his home. His mother's forge. His childhood. Everything he had ever known.

But deep down, he felt it—the truth in the elder's words. The moment he killed that Shadowfang, something inside him changed. And someone out there would come looking for him.

Gin took a deep breath. Then, he spoke the words that would change his fate forever.

"Tell me where to go."

The elder nodded. "There is a place—a hidden sanctuary, where those like you learn to control their power." His expression darkened. "But the road there is perilous, filled with beasts far worse than a Shadowfang."

Gin exhaled. He had already made his decision.

He turned to Keen, expecting anger, but instead, he saw determination in her eyes.

"If you think you're going alone," she said, "you're an idiot."

Gin blinked. "Wait, what?"

Keen crossed her arms. "I'm going with you."

And just like that—his journey truly began.