The bloody body moved through the hot, strange desert.
It hadn't been long since he had escaped death. No part of his clothes remained untouched. However, most of the blood wasn't his own.
Still, it didn't make Kyle feel any better. He thought tiredly: Find the river. That's where the seed waits.
Or at least, that's what he'd deciphered from the parchment.
Perhaps if he had spoken these thoughts aloud and someone had heard them, they would have laughed at the absurdity of it. A river in the desert? It seemed truly impossible.
Yet, strangely enough, it was true.
The more he mastered his power, the more attuned he became to strange things.
The entire realm, in truth, was strange.
The young man knew this, and ever since arriving—guided by the parchment—the conviction had only grown stronger.
A deep breath. A moment of focus. Blood surged through his veins like a tide breaking free.
Pupils narrowed.
Ears vibrated subtly.
Eyes shut.
He listened.
Listening… for the faint whisper of a stream. Water.
And there it was.
To the left, he thought.
Eyes opened again. A tired breath.
The energy flow intensified. The muscles in his legs contracted, and like an arrow released from a bow, he moved.
The tip of his boots dug into the sand, and with power, he propelled his body towards his goal.
His speed was extraordinary. Each step he took was twice as long as an ordinary person's.
From a distance, it seemed as though he was flying.
Kyle kept his eyes peeled, watching his surroundings for signs and dangers. Such intense heat would normally have been enough to push an ordinary person to the brink of death. But Kyle was far from ordinary.
None of those who came to this realm seeking the seeds were ordinary people. The energies they controlled hadn't simply awakened.
They had all faced near-certain death and uncovered the hidden power of their existence.
Soon, he reached a high hill with a steep incline and began to climb. The sound of the stream grew louder in his ears.
A sly smile appeared on his lips: I won again, Corin.
In an instant, the ground beneath him gave way, and the smile faded from his lips.
He cursed: "Damn it."
He was falling, the air around him slipping and vibrating. The scene before his eyes darkened, and he crashed hard to the ground.
If you had looked from above, you would have seen someone lying on the ground, their back flat. The place he fell seemed like a small island.
The person, named Kyle, had fallen on the edge of this small island. This island was in the center of a river that flowed through the desert. The river appeared to be symmetrically divided down the middle.
There were two currents. One flowed forward, seemingly disappearing into an invisible barrier at its end. The other flowed backward, disappearing into a dark hole. The water was blue and murky. Nothing could be seen beneath it.
On the island, the young man gritted his teeth and rose to his feet.
"Ha. How many times has something like this happened? Not even my mental energy gave me a warning anymore."
He reached to his waist and pulled out a dagger, which glinted in the intense light.
However, there was no danger around him. Just trees, stones, and a pool of water.
He started walking.
The air, contrary to normal, felt cool. A refreshing and vibrant feeling seeped into him, and a pleasant smell filled the air.
The young man's brows furrowed, and he focused. His pupils narrowed again, and he could feel the circulation of blood in his head.
In the blink of an eye, the image wavered, and the air grew warm again.
Kyle found himself bent near the water hole.
His fingertips were just a little above the surface.
He stood up quickly and took a step back. The color drained from his face: "That was close."
As he took a deep, relieved breath, a root-like tendril formed from the water and shot up at him so fast that his eyes didn't have time to widen.
The dagger fell from his hand as Kyle plunged face-first into the hole.
***
It felt like a gateway to another world.
Water, everywhere water.
Among the thin streams that flowed through the water, streaks of light shone through. These streaks of light didn't give off a sense of warmth or sanctity. They spun, like aimless threads, playful and mischievous.
They circled around him, then spread out again. Close, then far. As if playing with him, coaxing him to follow. To choose.
The young man followed the light streaks with his eyes, mesmerized. He hadn't even closed his mouth to stop the water from entering. Slowly, he moved through the water with his hands and feet.
One of the streaks, however, didn't move away. It came before his face, rising and falling.
Unconsciously, he grabbed it.
A searing pain shot through his hand, as if it had been burned.
For a moment, everything stood still, and then the young man disappeared.
***
In a large cave with a relatively low ceiling, the sound of footsteps echoed.
There were pauses between the steps, as if the one taking them was occasionally stopping to check his surroundings. On the walls of the cave, golden and green threads were visible. Like the roots of a tree. Sometimes the roots on the left pulsed. Other times, the right ones did.
Kyle stared in awe at the beauty of the scene, following the traces with his eyes as he walked after them.
He whispered: "It was true. The seed must be here."
He reached into his torn robe and pulled out the parchment fastened tightly to his body.
To his surprise, not a trace of moisture had touched it.
On the parchment, a triangular shape was drawn in golden colors.
A seed of light shimmered within it.
It seemed as if the light on the parchment pulsed in sync with the surrounding walls.
"Ah."
His face twisted in pain. He raised his right hand, and a burn mark appeared on it. It looked as though a key had been tattooed on it.
He licked his lips: "That thread of light... it burned me. Too bad I still don't know why. What am I even supposed to do with something like that?"
Again, the sound of his footsteps echoed through the cave. The sound reflected off the walls.
He walked for quite some time before reaching a dead end.
Unlike the rest of the cave, there was no light here.
However, there were various geometric shapes visible.
Squares, rectangles, triangles, and countless polygons.
But Kyle's gaze was drawn to the triangle.
He took a step forward and reached the cave wall.
He murmured: "I think this is it. How do I open it?"
He reached out cautiously and touched the shape. Nothing happened. "Then it must open with energy, probably."
He focused and sent his vital energy flowing. The energy left his hand and penetrated the stone, "Not this either. What about mental energy?"
He tried with mental energy, but this time, it didn't penetrate at all.
He sighed, his face tightening, "I knew it had to be that energy."
He turned his attention inward. Two currents moved within him, but they seemed to be in two different dimensions.
He held his breath and closed his eyes. He willed them to come together.
But there was a layer between them that made their combination difficult.
Sweat beads appeared on his forehead, and just when it seemed he could go no further, he heard a sound like paper tearing.
The young man opened his mouth and inhaled rapidly. He panted as though his strength had been drained from his body.
But, on the contrary.
A power greater than before filled his body. His muscles became slightly denser, and his senses sharper than ever, "Wait, wait. You want to draw the essence of my being, you damn power."
He leaned against the wall and refocused.
After a while, his muscles and senses returned to normal.
Only the veins in his right arm remained visible. He released the power from his right hand and filled the blue aura in his palm.
At that moment, something strange happened. The burn mark, shaped like a key, absorbed the entire aura and began to glow blue.
A tired smile appeared on Kyle's lips. He exhaled through his nose: "Finally."
He turned back and stretched his hand toward the triangle in anticipation. As he got closer to the geometric shape, the key sprang from his hand like a living being and sank into the center of the triangle.
The key disappeared.
And it seemed the cave began to shake.
The closed path began to open. Only through the initial crack that had opened did a bright light shine out, forcing him to close his eyes.
When Kyle felt the light had lost its initial intensity, he opened his eyes.
He heard the sound of flowing water. Before his eyes, there was a narrow bridge with a large stone at its center.
It didn't take long for him to reach the stone. On it, there was a gray cube that looked like polished glass. He reached out and lifted the cube. It melted like ice.
The liquid poured through his fingers and dripped to the ground, leaving only a seed in the palm of his hand.
Kyle's smile faded.
His jaw clenched, and his teeth ground together, "Why is this seed dead? After all this effort, this is the result?" The seed was withered and blackened, as if it contained no life.
"Master! You lied to me! Liiied!"
His eyes turned red, almost bulging out. He squeezed the seed tightly in his hand.
Kyle's mental state was unraveling, and he paid no attention to his surroundings. A fatal mistake.
It came. Silent and deadly.
Like a red lightning bolt.
From nowhere.
So fast that even if the young man had been paying attention, dodging this strike would have been nearly impossible.
It followed a direct path, from behind, piercing Kyle's heart, and embedding itself into the stone.
Blood seemed to find its way out as it burst from his chest. First with force, then gradually slowing.
The young man's mournful cries faded, and he stared in disbelief at his chest.
A murmur was heard through the sound of the flowing river, "This is for the master, Kyle."
Kyle collapsed to his knees on the bridge. Blood streamed from his throat, spilling past his lips. Turning his head was no longer possible.
He had lost control of his energy. But he could still hear the footsteps, "Legends say, the river Nahim moves in two paths." There was mockery in the voice. A young voice, perhaps younger than Kyle's, "Freedom and destruction. Guess which one I want to send you down, my friend?"
A raspy cough answered him.
"Hmm. Right, you can't answer!" A hand grabbed his torn clothes and began pulling him. Kyle's vision had blurred, but the voice was familiar.
He thought: Corin.
"I pray for your peace, Kyle. Just as I did for the master."
And then, Kyle was flying again. This time, however, he was falling into water that moved backward.
As he sank into the river, one bitter thought surfaced: I'm not regretful. Never.
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