The darkness spread like a bottomless ocean. A presence watched. It had no defined shape, only the crushing sensation of something ancient, too vast to be understood. The space around him seemed to bend, and an invisible pressure squeezed his mind, stealing his breath.
Eyes, or something resembling eyes, opened in the void. He tried to move. He tried to speak. He tried to remember. A voice echoed, distant and close at the same time, vibrating directly into his essence.
Then, he finally woke up.
Air invaded his lungs all at once, as if he had just emerged from deep waters. His heart hammered, and a thin layer of sweat covered his skin. Silence. He brought a hand to his forehead, trying to organize his thoughts. The image of the entity still hovered in his mind—incomplete, fragmented… and that bothered him more than the nightmare itself.
— Strange… — he murmured.
The sensation was familiar. Too ancient. The most disturbing part, however, was not the fear—but the forgetting. How could something of that magnitude simply vanish from his memory?
— Am I really wasting time on small things? — he thought, clenching his fingers.
Herbs. Reliquaries. Human ruins. Compared to that… everything seemed insignificant. Still, he stood up. He couldn't stay still. He never could. He reorganized the belongings inside his bag and moved forward, pushing that uncomfortable sensation to the back of his mind. If there was something forgotten, he would discover it at the right time.
For now, the path called.
The city of Eldria was left behind as the road stretched ahead. Shimmering towers and well-tended gardens slowly vanished on the horizon, dissolving under the soft morning light. His boots crushed small stones scattered along the way, each step firm and controlled. The cold wind cut through the vegetation, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth.
"The world changes… but insists on looking the same," he thought, adjusting the backpack on his shoulder.
Birds sliced through the sky, and the trail meandered through a grove of ancient oaks. Twisted branches met above, forming a natural arch. A brief pause, and then he pressed his palm against the rough trunk. The mana responded. Weak, but present. The vibration stirred a distant memory—lessons, young voices, hands guided to feel the life force hidden within the trees. The moment dissolved too quickly, leaving only an uncomfortable void.
The road remained busy. A wagon passed, its wheels marking the soft earth. Soon after, travelers appeared: merchants, peasants, and young conjurers, their silver badges reflecting the light. Respectful greetings were exchanged. Each encounter, however, carried a silent risk. That body still bore a name, a face, a past that didn't entirely belong to him. But staying in Eldria was never an option.
As the city disappeared for good, a strange mixture of nostalgia and expectation set in. The environment changed as he advanced south. The trees became denser, the air colder, permeated by a sweet and familiar aroma. Magical herbs. The Tirath region had always been known for this—rare plants, loaded with medicinal and energetic properties.
The memory of ancient cultivations crossed his mind. Times when the soil itself responded to his touch. The closer he got to the forests of Tirath, the clearer the sense of anticipation became.
"If the reliquary isn't worth the effort, the herbs will at least compensate to reorganize my mana circulation. Everything changes… and everything insists on remaining. The creatures here must have evolved too," he thought.
Before, they were just a nuisance. For ordinary humans, however, they had always meant death for the unwary. A silent sigh accompanied the mental planning of his next steps.
"The Incandescent Flower comes first. It always expands the pores and releases the mana flow like a flood."
The sensation was immediate. Every cell seemed to absorb pure energy. Excess mana had already led masters to ruin. After it, the Astragor.
"A grotesque root… but indispensable. Without it, the excess mana would burn everything from the inside."
It works as an anchor. It stabilizes and connects.
— Using one without the other would be suicide — he said aloud.
This combination offered more than raw power. Control. Refinement. Perhaps even more valuable than the reliquary itself. The sound of footsteps interrupted his reasoning. He stopped. His senses expanded. He was not alone.
A group of figures walked along the dirt road toward the entrance of the ruins, talking to each other. There were seven adventurers, all wearing cloaks and combat armor. Their conversations mingled with the sounds of the forest, but he managed to catch enough fragments to understand that they were also heading toward the relic in the ruins of Tirath.
"A true expedition," Aslam thought, remaining hidden in the shadows of the trees.
In front, a robust man carried a broadsword on his back. Beside him, a woman of medium height with sharp eyes held a simple magic staff; her robes indicated she was a sorceress. Behind them, an agile archer moved with light steps, his expression constantly alert. The other four members included a warrior in shining armor, a priestess with a sacred symbol hanging from her neck, a stealthy rogue, and a long-haired barbarian with a thick beard.
— It can't be a coincidence that someone else was sent to Tirath today — the mage said, twirling her staff pensively.
— I heard rumors at the guild that something big is happening there. It can't be just another relic — replied the warrior, Caront.
— That means the reward will be bigger — he added.
— More risk, more gold. I'm in — said the archer, keeping a cautious eye on the surroundings.
The priestess walking behind them furrowed her brow.
— Don't underestimate these ruins, Caront. The last group that went to explore Tirath didn't come back. If the relic is powerful, something else might be protecting it.
The archer, still alert, nodded.
— The last time a group ventured here, it wasn't just monsters that attacked them. The ruins have a strange energy, a connection to something deeper.
Aslam stood motionless, absorbing the conversation. He considered approaching them, perhaps even offering a temporary alliance to explore the ruins. But something made him hesitate. He still needed to maintain a certain level of discretion. The fewer people who knew his true identity and what he sought, the better.
Following his instincts, he ventured deeper into the dense forest, where the trees were taller and sunlight barely penetrated the canopy. The atmosphere around him began to change, becoming heavier and electric, as if mana were concentrating at a specific point. He followed a winding path between the trees, guided by the intuition that told him he was approaching something significant.
The chirping of birds and the whisper of the wind gradually disappeared, replaced by a deeper, resonant sound. He stopped for a moment, holding his breath to listen. The sound of clashing blades, grunts of effort, and the reverberation of spells being cast echoed in the distance. The feeling that something was happening nearby urged him to move faster.
As he approached, the pulse of mana grew stronger, as if it were calling for him. He knew he was near the core of power surrounding the relic. But there was another sensation, something that made him uneasy: the fight he heard seemed to be coming to an end.
Finally, he reached a small clearing that opened to a wider view. Before him, a group of three adventurers fought desperately against an imposing being, a guardian of the relic. The guardian, a creature made of pure magical energy, seemed more like a specter than a physical being, its mutable form molding and changing constantly as the adventurers' attacks hit it.
The guardian floated menacingly in the center of the clearing, its ethereal form emitting a shimmering and threatening light.
Kellen, the swordsman with hair as dark as charcoal, was tall and muscular, his gaze intense and determined. The armor he wore was scarred by past battles, and his broadsword glowed under the guardian's light.
— Curse it! — Kellen exclaimed, frustration clear in his voice. — Why can't we even scratch this thing?
Beside him, Melina, the red-haired woman, was on the verge of collapse. Her eyes, usually bright and full of life, were now dull with exhaustion. Sweat dripped down her pale face, and her leather clothes were worn and stained with dirt. She struggled to keep her dagger raised, but the weakness in her arms was evident.
— We need a plan! — Melina shouted, her voice trembling. — We can't keep going like this! What are we doing here?!
Lyra, the conjurer, was focused on casting a spell. Her eyes, full of determination, glowed with the light of the mana she was trying to mold. She wore a blue robe that seemed almost ethereal, with ancient runes pulsing softly. Her hands trembled as she tried to conjure a powerful spell, but the blasts of light she launched dissipated upon hitting the guardian.
— I can't let them win! This is our only chance! — Lyra shouted, worry tinging her voice.
Kellen looked around, realizing the gravity of the situation. The entrance to the ruins was nearly a kilometer away. Despair consumed him. If they couldn't get back, they would be dead, and no one would come to save them.
The guardian advanced, emanating a threatening glow. With a fluid movement, it launched an attack against Melina: a wave of pure energy hit her full-on, sending her flying through the air.
— Look out! — Kellen shouted, but it was already too late.
Melina was thrown against the trunk of a tree, sliding to the ground, unconscious. The impact echoed through the clearing.
— No! — Lyra screamed, horror spreading across her face. Her eyes widened in shock.
Lyra, watching the scene, felt her own strength diminish. The mana that once flowed through her hands now escaped like water through her fingers. She tried to launch another spell, but the energy seemed to flee from her, as if the forest itself were draining her power.
— Kellen, we have to leave! — Lyra shouted, her voice heavy with urgency. — We don't have a chance!
— Take Melina with you, I'll buy time to... — Kellen began, but suddenly, the guardian attacked again, this time with an even more powerful blow.
Kellen felt the air around him contract, a crushing pressure surrounding him. The guardian's pure energy surged toward him, and he tried to dodge. The explosion of light was deafening. Kellen was thrown back, his vision blurring as he spun through the air. He fell to his knees, gasping, the world around him spinning like a carousel out of control.
— Kellen! — Lyra screamed, but her voice sounded distant, as if echoing through a tunnel. The world began to disappear around him, colors mixing into an indistinct blur. Kellen looked at his friend, feeling reality crumble. Exhaustion overwhelmed him, as if tons of stone were pressing on his shoulders. Pain spread through his body, and a sense of helplessness took hold.
With a final effort, he tried to keep his eyes open, but the darkness pulled him under. He passed out, consciousness escaping like a fleeting dream.
Lyra struggled to maintain focus, but the mana in her body was almost exhausted. Each spell she launched drained her strength, and the shadows gathered around her, becoming increasingly oppressive. She took a deep breath, trying to gather what little energy remained.
— I have to do this... for us — she whispered to herself, as she raised her hand, forming a magic circle in front of her chest. But the light emanating from it was weak and flickering, as if it were struggling to exist.
— Come on, come on! — she cried, her voice rising in despair. — Just give me one more chance!
The guardian advanced, its massive form made of condensed mana revealing itself through the pale glow of Lyra's magic. She felt panic rise in her heart. The creature seemed impenetrable; each of her attacks was nothing more than a breath against a storm.
— No... no... — Her voice trembled as she tried once more, but the mana continued to escape her control, and the darkness slowly enveloped her.
The guardian drew closer, its empty and hungry gaze fixed on her. Lyra felt the pressure in her head intensify, the internal struggle becoming increasingly difficult. A wave of weakness hit her, causing her to collapse.
— What is this? — she thought, terrified.