The Blackwood Forest lived up to its name. Even on a relatively clear afternoon, the dense canopy choked out the sunlight, leaving the forest floor in a perpetual twilight. Ethan, driven by a restless energy and a gnawing curiosity he couldn't quite explain, ignored the whispered warnings of his fellow students and ventured beyond the academy's manicured lawns.

He knew it was forbidden. Professor Blackwood had made that abundantly clear on their first day. "The Blackwood Forest is beyond the academy grounds for a reason," he'd said, his voice a low rumble. "It is a place where the veil between worlds thins. Where creatures, both beautiful and dangerous, roam freely. Students are forbidden to enter under penalty of severe disciplinary action."

But warnings only seemed to fuel Ethan’s determination. The academy itself, with its polished hallways and regimented schedules, felt stifling. He craved something more, something…real. He craved something other than the knowing looks and hushed whispers that followed him since the incident with the Draugr in the library. Something other than the lingering scent of Lilac and ozone from Seraphina's unwanted advance.

So, armed with a rusty first-aid kit scavenged from the orphanage and a pocketknife he’d found hidden in a floorboard, he slipped out under the cover of the late afternoon mist, the chill air biting at his exposed skin.

The deeper he went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. The air grew thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. Twisted branches, gnarled with age, clawed at the sky like skeletal fingers. Strange, guttural calls echoed through the trees, sending shivers down his spine. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he knew he wouldn't find it within the Academy's walls.

He stumbled across gnarled roots and rotting logs, his city-worn shoes quickly succumbing to the mud and grime. He was starting to regret his impulsiveness. Maybe the stories were true. Maybe this place *was* too dangerous.

Then he heard it – a low, whimpering sound, barely audible above the rustling of the leaves. He froze, his hand instinctively reaching for the pocketknife. Was it an animal? Or something… else?

He crept forward cautiously, pushing aside a curtain of thorny vines. And there, nestled in a small clearing, was a creature unlike any he’d ever seen.

It was a wolf, but impossibly large. Its fur was the color of midnight, a dense, glossy black that seemed to absorb the light around it. It lay curled on its side, its breathing ragged and shallow. A dark stain spread across its flank, soaking into the fur.

Ethan’s first instinct was fear, but it was quickly overridden by a surge of empathy. The wolf was clearly in pain. He knelt beside it, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the heat radiating from its body, a sign of fever.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The wolf didn’t react. Its eyes were closed, its body limp. He noticed now the severity of its wounds. Deep gashes crisscrossed its side and a large chunk of flesh was missing from its shoulder. It looked like it had been attacked by something with sharp claws and even sharper teeth.

Ethan carefully examined the wounds. They were ragged and infected. He knew he had to do something, even if his knowledge of first aid was limited to patching up the occasional scrape or bruise on his fellow orphans.

He pulled out his first-aid kit. Inside was a small bottle of antiseptic, some bandages, and a few pain relievers. He knew it wasn’t much, but it was all he had.

He carefully cleaned the wounds with the antiseptic, wincing at the wolf's involuntary flinch. The smell of pine and something faintly metallic filled the air. He then applied a generous amount of the strongest pain relievers he had. He doubted it would do much for something this size but it was better than nothing. He then wrapped the wounds as best he could with the bandages, hoping to stanch the bleeding and prevent further infection.

As he worked, he noticed something strange. The wolf’s fur felt…different. It wasn’t just fur; it was like touching pure, condensed darkness. And beneath the fur, he could feel a faint thrum of energy, a vibration that resonated deep within his bones.

He finished bandaging the wounds and sat back on his heels, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He had done all he could. Now, all he could do was wait.

He stayed with the wolf for what felt like hours, watching its shallow breaths and listening to the strange rustling sounds of the forest. The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long, eerie shadows across the forest floor. He knew he should go back to the academy, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the wolf alone.

As darkness enveloped the forest, the air grew colder and the sounds intensified. He heard the snap of twigs and the rustling of leaves nearby, but he couldn’t see anything in the gloom. He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering.

Suddenly, the wolf stirred. Its eyes flickered open, revealing irises of an unnerving, almost glowing silver. It stared directly at Ethan, its gaze intense and piercing. A low growl rumbled in its chest.

Ethan froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he should be afraid, but he wasn’t. He felt…connected to this creature, in a way he couldn’t explain.

Then, the wolf did something unexpected. It reached out with its muzzle and nudged Ethan’s hand. It was a gentle gesture, a sign of gratitude.

“You’re welcome,” Ethan whispered, his voice trembling.

The wolf closed its eyes again, its breathing becoming more regular. Ethan leaned back against a nearby tree, his muscles aching with fatigue. He drifted off to sleep, lulled by the sounds of the forest and the presence of the mysterious black wolf.

He awoke to the sound of snapping branches. He jolted upright, his hand instinctively reaching for his pocketknife. The wolf was gone.

He looked around wildly, his heart sinking with disappointment. Had it all been a dream?

Then he saw it. A single black feather, lying on the ground where the wolf had been sleeping. It was unlike any feather he had ever seen. It shimmered with an iridescent sheen, catching the faint moonlight filtering through the trees.

He picked it up, its smooth surface cool to the touch. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of pine and…something else. Something dark and wild and undeniably magical.

He knew, with a certainty that defied logic, that he would see the wolf again. And he knew, deep down, that this encounter had changed something within him. He was no longer just Ethan Bellweather, the orphaned nobody. He was something…more.

He stumbled back towards the academy, the black feather clutched tightly in his hand. He knew he was in trouble. Being caught in the Blackwood Forest after dark would certainly result in expulsion.

As he neared the edge of the forest, he heard a voice.

“Ethan?”

He whirled around, his heart leaping into his throat. Standing in the shadows, bathed in the ethereal glow of the moon, was Professor Blackwood.

His face was unreadable, his eyes like chips of obsidian.

"What have you done, boy?" Blackwood asked, his voice barely a whisper. It sounded more like a promise than a question.