West.

Aaralon did not want to risk being caught by sentries, so he made his choice hastily. He had decided that the school was far too conservative for him, they forbid his dabbling in the dark arts, he needed to find someone who could teach him straight out. A sansei.

Aaralon had no idea what or even where "Whispering Woods" was, he had never heard of it. He supposed that it must hold some secret. A secret the college doesn't want its student's getting over curious with. While it was just a hunch, it was more than enough motivation for Aaralon to go west.

The path dipped down several feet, the grassy hills turned barren and lifeless as he walked the parched earth. The dirt path melted with the ground, and soon he was blindly following footsteps of travelers. Grass sparsely dotted the drought region, and as his shadows were gone, Aaralon could feel the heat through his thin cloth clothes.

As he walked the trees became twisted and warped, as if strangled by the hands of giants. The footsteps Aaralon was following abruptly ended at the entrance to a finally furnished area. The dotted trees now became numerous, yet not a forest. The gruesome abominable trees began to droop with gravity. One might think these trees were almost made of dough.

Aaralon was amazed and walked towards a specimen and inspected it. Aaralon ran his hands through the bark and found it was as ordinary as any the bark on the trees where the college was.

Aaralon peeled off a piece of the loose bark and flipped it over. Aaralon was shocked to find tiny red crystals covering the back of this seemingly ordinary bark. Aaralon touched a crystal with the end of his finger.

"Ouuuch!" Aaralon cried out.

Aaralon's finger drew blood and a small trickle fell into the bark. As Aaralon whipped his hand in pain, his blood mingled with the crystals. Aaralon gazed in shock as his blood seeped into the crystals.