The thick air in the silk labyrinth still reeked of foul, blackish-green ichor and the ozone of faded magic. Akrasha's giant corpse lay still, a gruesome monument to our narrow victory. The relief of survival was quickly replaced by an all-encompassing exhaustion, both physical and mental. I felt as if every nerve in my body had been stretched to its limit and was now painfully slackening. Elara looked no better; she leaned against a tree, her breathing ragged and her face still deathly pale. Kael was the most heavily injured. The gash on his arm was deeper than I thought, and the impact against the tree had clearly bruised the muscles within. Despite this, he stood tall, his axe planted on the ground like a crutch, the eyes of a warrior who would never submit.
"We have to get out of here," Kael growled, his voice hoarse. "The smell of this blood will attract other things. This place isn't safe."
He was right. In a primal forest like this, a carcass as large as Akrasha's was an open invitation. We couldn't stay another minute. With a superhuman effort, we gathered ourselves. Kael slung an arm over my shoulder for support, and we limped out of the silk maze. The moment my foot stepped out of the shadow of the silk canopies and I felt the real, warm sunlight on my skin, I felt as if I had been reborn. We didn't look back.
The path ahead led us down a gentle slope, through a sparser forest. The giant ancient trees had given way to smaller ones, and the ground began to grow rocky. After about an hour of moving in silence, broken only by our gasping breaths, Elara signaled a halt.
"Kael's wound," she said, her voice full of worry. "It needs to be treated properly. The toxins from Akrasha's fangs, even from a scratch, can cause a severe infection."
We found a relatively safe spot under a rock overhang. Kael slumped down, his face twisting in pain as Elara began to examine the wound. She carefully used clean water from her waterskin to wash the gash, revealing deep cuts and bruising. Then, she took a small wooden box from her pouch. Inside was a dark green ointment that radiated the scent of mint and damp earth. She gently applied the salve to the wound. Kael gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw standing out, but he didn't make a sound.
"This salve will draw out the toxins and help stop the bleeding," Elara explained, "but you need to rest. This arm can't be used forcefully for at least a few days."
The problem was, we didn't have "a few days." Every minute we stopped was a minute of danger. Kael knew it. He nodded reluctantly, the frustration of his helplessness clear in his eyes. His role as protector, as the one who led the way, had been temporarily stripped from him.
Now, the responsibility once again fell on my shoulders and the "Heart of the Forest." I closed my eyes, focusing on the internal map. The path of blue light was still there, pointing down the slope ahead. But there was something new. Near the path, a small area pulsed with a flashing white light, different from the gentle blue glow of the refuge in the Silent Garden. I sensed a purity, a powerful healing energy radiating from it.
"There's a place up ahead," I said, pointing in that direction. "I don't know what it is, but I feel... it's good. It might help you, Kael."
With a new goal, we set off again. This time, I went first, scouting the path while staying alert. Elara was in the middle, supporting Kael, who could now only use his axe as a walking stick. Our pace slowed considerably. Every step Kael took was an effort. The silence between us was heavy, not with tension, but with shared exhaustion and worry.
As we neared the white light, the terrain became strange. The ground turned into a giant bed of pebbles, smooth, round stones ranging from pale gray to jet black, piled on top of each other. The trees disappeared completely, leaving only stone and sky. The place looked like the bed of a river that had run dry thousands of years ago. Moving on this terrain was extremely difficult; the stones rolled underfoot, making it easy to slip.
And then we heard it. A soft, melodious sound, like thousands of tiny glass wind chimes ringing in the wind. The sound seemed to come from the stones themselves. It was beautiful, and yet slightly mournful.
The white light in my mind led us to the center of the pebble field. There, a sight made us stop in awe. Amidst the sea of gray and black pebbles, there was a circular area about twenty meters wide, covered entirely in pure white stones. They weren't marble or quartz. They had a smooth, opaque appearance and seemed to emit a faint, internal glow. That melodious sound came from these very stones as the wind passed over them.
But that wasn't all. In the very center of the white stone circle, there was a larger, oval-shaped boulder, smooth as a giant egg. And from a small crack at its peak, a liquid shimmering like molten silver was slowly seeping out, flowing down its sides and soaking into the white stones below. It didn't look like water; it was slightly thicker, and it sparkled in the sun as if mixed with diamond dust.
"Silver Tears," Elara whispered, her voice filled with reverence. "We... we have found the Mourner's Tomb."
She explained that according to her people's ancient legends, this was where a Water God had sacrificed itself to purify a vast land poisoned by a devastating magical war long ago. The god's spirit had merged with the central stone, and the "Silver Tears" were the embodiment of its eternal sorrow and purifying power. The white stones around it were ordinary stones that had been cleansed by these tears over millennia, transforming them and granting them healing abilities.
The energy here was incredible. It was different from the heavy stillness of the Silent Garden or the chaotic life energy of the old forest. This was an energy of absolute purity, of healing and release. It soothed the mind, banished fatigue, and washed away negative emotions.
Elara didn't hesitate. She helped Kael into the circle of white stones. As soon as he stepped inside, Kael let out a long breath, as if shrugging off a heavy burden. The tension in his face softened. Elara carefully helped him sit down, leaning his back against one of the large white stones. Then, she approached the central boulder, cupping her palms to catch a few drops of the Silver Tears. The shimmering liquid pooled in her hands, cool and radiant.
She returned, knelt before Kael, and gently poured the magical liquid onto his wound.
The reaction was immediate. As the Silver Tears touched the wound, a thin, black smoke, smelling of rot, rose from the gash. Kael let out a roar, not of pain, but of an intense, burning sensation. Elara held his shoulders firmly. "Endure it! It's pushing the toxins out!" she yelled. The black smoke rose in thicker plumes, and Kael's wound seemed to convulse. After a tense minute, the smoke dissipated.
The wound was still there, but it looked completely different. The surrounding skin was no longer swollen or bruised. The torn flesh had turned from a dark red to the healthy pink of living tissue. The bleeding had stopped completely. The miracle didn't stop there. Kael was breathing hard, but he moved his arm. His face was a mask of disbelief. "The pain... is gone," he said, his voice thick with doubt. "I can feel strength returning."
The healing magic of the Silver Tears was extraordinary. It not only healed the physical wound but also restored lost vitality. Elara also used some to wash her face and hands, and I could see the color returning to her cheeks. I followed suit, and the feeling of the cool liquid on my skin was wonderful. It washed away the headache from using the "Heart of the Forest," dissolved the fatigue in my muscles, and brought an unprecedented feeling of refreshment and clarity.
We decided to rest here. The place was not only strangely safe—it seemed no creature dared approach this sacred area—but it was also the perfect place to recover. We drank from our waterskins and ate the last of our meager dried rations, sitting among the white stones, listening to their melodious music.
As sunset fell, painting the pebble bed in a warm orange-gold, a comfortable silence settled over us. For the first time in days, we could truly relax without worrying about the dangers lurking in the shadows.
Kael was the one who broke the silence. He looked down at his carefully bandaged arm, then at me. "Takk," he said, his voice deep and sincere. "Both of you. Today... if it hadn't been for you two, I would be dead."
This was the first time I had seen Kael, the proud and self-reliant warrior, admit his vulnerability so frankly. It didn't make him look weak; on the contrary, it made him more human.
"We are a team," Elara replied, smiling gently. "Aethel, right?"
"Aethel," Kael repeated, a rare smile gracing his lips. He turned to me. "What did you do in the web, Lyan? Those threads... they attacked the monster on their own. I've never seen anything like it."
I hesitated for a moment. "It was the 'Heart of the Forest,'" I explained, my hand unconsciously touching the warm stone under my shirt. "I... I commanded the web. I didn't know I could, I just... tried."
Elara looked at me with amazement and admiration. "You didn't just 'try.' You connected to the forest's consciousness, a primal and powerful consciousness. You bent the trap to your will. That is not something an ordinary person can do. That stone... it chose the right person."
Her words made me think. When had I changed so much? From a physics student who only believed in provable laws, I was now sitting in a magical stone field, listening to the chimes of healing rocks, and had just commanded a giant spider web to strangle its own master. This world, this journey, was changing me to the core. I was no longer just the lost one looking for a way home. I was part of Aethel, part of this team. Their survival was as important as my own.
That night, we slept the deepest and most peaceful sleep since the journey began. No nightmares, no guarded vigilance. Only the melodious sound of the white stones' lullaby and the safe, pure feeling of the Silver Tears permeating the air.
The next morning, Kael was almost fully recovered. His wound had closed, and although he still couldn't swing his axe with full strength, he could move normally without assistance. We spent the morning at the Mourner's Tomb, refilling our waterskins—though Elara warned that the Silver Tears would lose most of their healing power once taken from this place, it was still the purest water we could find.
Before leaving, just as in the Silent Garden, we each took a moment to express our gratitude. Elara left a small braid of her hair beside the central stone. Kael placed a fine flint stone he always carried for starting fires. I had nothing to leave, so I simply placed my hand on a white stone, closed my eyes, and silently thanked the Ancient God's spirit for giving us peace and healing.
As we turned our backs on the white stone circle and continued our descent, I felt a distinct change in the group's dynamic. Our mutual dependence had been solidified. Our respect had deepened. We were no longer three separate individuals who happened to be traveling together. We had become a single unit, forged through danger, mended by magic, and bound by a common goal. The journey ahead was surely still full of thorns, but now, I knew we would face them together.