Leon pushed aside the heavy canvas flap of his tent, squinting at the welcoming light of the dawn. Though the sun still lingered hidden below the horizon, the sky had brightened enough to force him into a few rapid blinks until his eyes adjusted to the day's glow. He paused just outside, taking in the empty camp veiled in a thin morning mist. The cold air filled his lungs, sharp and invigorating, waking him more fully with each breath.
As he stepped away from his tent, the frozen earth crunched beneath his boots, shattering the eerie silence that hung over the camp. The blue waves he had been seeing since the accident two weeks ago flickered before his eyes. When he ignored them, they faded into near nothingness, his sight returning to something close to normal. But the moment he gave them even a sliver of attention, they surged forward, at once growing more pronounced.
The waves collided and intertwined in the air, swaying and twisting in the undulating rhythm of a hidden ocean, a chaotic dance that, to anyone else, would seem random. Yet to Leon, there was an order to it, an inexplicable logic that he understood on a primal level. He could not articulate the patterns they followed, but right now they seemed to gradually align, all drawn eastwards, straining toward the horizon as if yearning for the already heralded sun.
Leon's gaze settled on Camille's tent, and he stopped, his expression softening as a tender smile curled his lips. (She was never the early bird type,) he mused. Camille had cared for him tirelessly in the days following his accident, despite her own assimilation wearing her down, always with that gentle but tired face of hers. A memory flashed in his mind—her standing over him, pressing that cold stone to his chest. (That accident was not bad luck at all.)
He moved again, leaving the camp behind as he climbed toward the upper mesa. Each step up the hillside sapped his breath, his muscles grumbling in protest. He had never been athletic, so he was proud of how well he had held up so far during their journey. But right now, fresh out of sleep, his body was far from cooperative.
Reaching a weathered boulder, Leon paused to catch his breath, leaning heavily against the cold stone. The chill seeped into his skin, grounding him as he gathered his strength. After a moment's rest, he pushed off the boulder and resumed his ascent, each step becoming steadier as his muscles gradually warmed to the task.
Near the top, he emerged from the mist, clambering over the final few meters of rocky terrain. The slope grew steeper near the edge, though it was not enough to stop him. When he reached the summit, another plateau opened before him, vast and unbroken, stretching northward as far as his eye could reach. He glanced back at their camp below, now hidden beneath the dense blanket of a uniform white shroud. The mist clung to the valley, turning it into a cauldron of milky vapor that brushed the mesa's edges but dared not spill over.
The Bandawi sat scattered farther along the edge, their figures dark against the lightening sky, all facing the point where the sun would soon appear. As Leon scanned the horizon, one silhouette turned and waved, motioning him closer. He checked behind him, uncertain if the gesture was meant for someone else, but no one stood there. It had to be for him.
He followed the edge toward the figure that had beckoned him. As he drew closer, he recognized the familiar features of Reif, their guide. The man had barely acknowledged Leon's existence so far in their journey, aside from terse reprimands and the regular remainders issued to their entire group of what was forbidden, so Leon wondered why he was being summoned now. A tightness gripped his chest as he approached.
When he was a few steps away, Reif spoke without turning his head. "Come, sit with me."
Leon's eyes flicked to the other Bandawi, each seated at a considerable distance from one another, each in a spot carefully chosen. He would have preferred to find his own place along the edge. It had only been three days since he discovered the Bandawi's morning ritual—gathering to watch the sunrise—and the experience had already captivated him. The secret lay in finding the right spot—the 'convergence points', as he called them—to embrace the waves' alignment until the sun fully emerged. It was as if every day, the waves were excited at the prospect of seeing the blazing disc, only to settle soon after the first rays spread across the sky. Witnessing this from the right spot, feeling their thrill as they aligned, was a beauty beyond words. Now, he craved it daily, and he hoped Camille would soon perceive the waves too, so they could share the experience together.
With a reluctant sigh, Leon settled beside Reif, who had claimed one of the convergence points for himself. These spots were never close to each other, meaning Leon would miss the full embrace of the waves if he stayed here to talk. But what choice did he have?
"How's your blessing?" Reif asked once Leon had ensconced himself on the edge.
"I'm fine, I think. And it feels… incredible. Hard to describe, really," Leon said, surprised by his own openness—he had not intended to share his real thoughts with a Bandawi. The professor had drilled into his head to tread carefully—the Bandawi were radical, and he could easily offend them with a stray, thoughtless comment.
(Well, apparently that's what I'm good at—being everyone's punching bag,) he thought wryly. (Camille scolds me for not paying attention, the professor for cultural ineptness and Reif… well, for just about everything. Don't touch this, don't touch that; why is your goat trying to throw you off a cliff into the chasm again? Like it's my fault the damned animal is so vicious.) Despite the self-deprecating thoughts, Leon could not help but smile. He had chosen this journey of his own free will, after all. What good could whining do now?
The gray skies began shifting into softer hues of pink, and Leon felt the warmth of the day seeping into the atmosphere, casting its golden touch upon everything in sight. He glanced at Reif, who had remained silent for a while now. Reif's eyes were closed; a horizontal line of the dawn's sunlight slowly lit up his face, highlighting the depth of his age.
(He mentioned he has quite a few children. I wonder how old he is.)
"Leon," Reif's deep voice broke the silence, his eyes still closed. "You must remember to stay safe. All of you." His words imbued earnestness Leon had not expected, tugging at his heart and leaving him confused why Reif had said that.
"I know, we'll be careful," Leon replied, though his words felt inadequate.
"No, you don't,"—Reif exhaled softly, shaking his head—"you don't."
Leon hesitated, unsure how to respond. A few long seconds passed before Reif spoke again. "When I took this job, I had not expected your group to live long enough to enter the Highlands. The Empire hates my people. I was certain it was a setup. A friend of mine insisted they wouldn't dare because you're the representatives of another nation, but I wasn't convinced. I spent all this time waiting for them to come, to kill you all and lay the blame at our feet."
Reif opened his eyes and turned to meet Leon's gaze. "But they never did, and then you almost died on your own, without them even having to lift a finger. It's not just about you, Leon. We're treading on thin ice, and the cracks are already forming. My people are proud, and we will fight for our home, but we want to do it on our terms, not theirs.
"Stay safe and protect the others. They can't understand the blessing, so it must be you watching over them. Remember, Homini does not favor the sick or injured. He won't accept you if you're not healthy; it's important. Be vigilant, and don't die on us." Reif's tone carried no usual reprimand, only genuine concern.
Leon swallowed, stunned by the unexpected sincerity. "Reif, I…" he started, searching for words, for an answer to Reif's plea, but found none. His mind was blank.
"Don't talk," Reif cut him off, turning his attention to the horizon. "The day has almost begun. Look, the Guardians are nearly gone. It's time to move. We should reach our destination by nightfall. Go, make sure your companions have packed everything."
Leon smiled; the usual Reif was back, not a hint of tenderness in his voice. The twin moons—'Guardians', as Bandawi called them—were indeed fading into the brightening sky. And together with the sun peeking from over the horizon, the waves' excitement was coming to an end; they were returning to their natural, dull undulation.
The honest words he received from Reif had a strange effect on Leon. Even if much of what was said eluded him, for the first time since leaving his hometown and childhood friends, he felt a sense of belonging again. He was no longer a mere observer watching from the sidelines—he was now a participant.
Leon swept his gaze over the Bandawi scattered along the mesa's edge. One by one, they rose, casting final glances at the horizon. The unspoken connection he felt with them tugged at him—a bond formed not through words, but through shared experience. He might not have been able to embrace the waves today, but he had the blessing, and there would be many more mornings to come. Instead, today, just by sitting with these silver-haired people, he had found his place in the world.
Knowing they would arrive at their destination by day's end, the hours dragged endlessly for Leon, so he welcomed the vibrant oranges and crimsons blazing across the late afternoon sky as a sign of progress. The group had descended into the lower strata, and now the mesas' steep cliffs rose around them, looming on every side and towering over them as they trotted onward on their goats through the never-ending stretches of stone formations.
Leon's mount had behaved well for most of the day, save for that one time when it snapped at his ankle with a flash of teeth. (Maybe it senses the end of the road is near too,) Leon mused, shaking his head with a faint smile.
The morning conversation with Reif replayed in his mind again. His forehead furrowed, eyebrows knitted together as he tried to make sense of the Bandawi's words.
Noticing his deep contemplation, Camille could not resist the chance to break the silence. "Leon, when can we expect your grand enrollment at Tramiria's Academy? And you still haven't shown us those newly found powers of yours," she teased, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "The ride's so boring. Come on, entertain us!" she continued with mock impatience.
Leon sighed, offering only a weak smile in response to her playful ribbing. When he had lain paralyzed, when his body fought for its life struggling to accept the blessing, he had truly believed that the energy surging through him would bring some kind of transformation. (Where did that idea even come from? The Bandawi are the ultimate Powerless. How could their blessing grant me access to the Power?) he mused, chiding himself for such foolish thoughts.
But that, in itself, was not a problem—disappointment at most. No, the real grave mistake he had made was to share his thoughts with others. Ever since, there was not a single day when Camille would not pester him to show off his abilities, knowing well he had none. To make it worse, he was the only one who could see the waves, since Camille and the professor were still in the assimilation phase. So while he had indeed gained a 'power' of sorts, every time the subject came up, it inevitably reopened the discussions about the true Power.
Desperate for distraction, Leon searched for a topic to divert Camille's attention, but after so many weeks of travel, they had exhausted nearly every subject of interest. The only thing left in his arsenal was his morning conversation with Reif. He had intended to keep it to himself, but circumstances called for sacrifice.
"Professor, our guide, Reif, spoke to me this morning," Leon began, choosing his words carefully. "He was… different. There was this urgency, this concern that I didn't quite understand. He mentioned problems with the Empire and how bad it would be if we died. I mean, it would be bad, obviously, but do either of you know what he was talking about?"
The professor, who had been silent for most of their journey, let out a deep sigh. "Is it too much to expect from my disciples to read about the land, the people, and the culture of the places we are going to visit? How do you expect to grow your career? Do you think those pre-invasion automatons you are so interested in will just poof into your hands out of thin air?"
"I prepared well," Leon protested. "I even carved into my memory the map of the entire Far East. How is it my fault we ended up in the Highlands? That wasn't the plan," he defended himself against the professor's usual attitude.
"Hmph, a scholar should always be prepared, no exceptions. We spent enough time in Tramiria for you to read half the library. What exactly were you doing? But never mind, I'll educate you, my disciple." The professor adjusted his spectacles and fixed Leon with a stern look before continuing. "As you know, after the invasion was stopped at the gates of Tramiria, the Front-line Empire was founded to protect the rest of the continent. While other regions retained parts of their sovereignty according to the Union declaration, the Bandawi lands were incorporated into the Empire straight away. No one asked their opinion because the emperor—the greatest war hero, mind you—was very single-minded in his obsession with defense. It's not a coincidence that the invasion was stopped in Tramiria—it's a natural choke point, with the sea on one side and the Highlands on the other. If not for that, we wouldn't be here discussing anything, and the dead would rule this land.
"But I digress. The important part is that the Highlands were a natural barrier the Empire needed to control, so they took it, building fortifications and destroying many of the Bandawi's holy sites in the process."
The professor let the information sink in, then he continued. "The Empire is not interested in the Bandawi's land. After all, normal people can't even come here without this assimilation thing. Only Great Mages can block the effect and roam free. Since the last days of the initial invasion, the defense line was first moved to the Dragon's Teeth pyramids and later deep into the Far East. Currently, the Empire is even attempting to resettle the lands past the Dragon's Teeth.
"What I am saying is that there's little strategic reason to keep the Highlands as part of the Empire, but as long as those fortifications exist, our defense-focused emperor will not let them go. That being said, the past decade has been free of incidents between the Empire and the Bandawi. What Reif probably meant is that our presence here could be used as some sort of provocation, an excuse to blame the Bandawi for any mishap, even if accidental.
"Personally, I don't see why the Empire would try something like that, and I want no part in it. Let's focus on our goals, and leave politics aside."
Leon digested this new information, a sense of unease creeping into his thoughts. He glanced at the towering cliffs surrounding them, feeling the sudden weight of their journey pressing down on him—the potential danger, the tension simmering beneath the calm surface, and the realization that his mere presence could bring trouble to an entire nation.
Camille broke him out of his musings again. "By the way, since when have you and Reif been having such heavy discussions?"
"It was the first time. I joined them to watch the sunrise."
"Oh, so you're watching sunrises together now?"
"It's a blessing thing."
"A blessing thing. I see."
"Yes." Leon nodded slowly.
"So that's how it is." Camille narrowed her eyes.
Leon had no idea how it was, but he had no chance to inquire what Camille had in mind. A shout snapped their attention. "We've arrived!" they heard a Bandawi call from the front.
The evening light waned as they descended into a secluded gorge, where the surrounding mesas gave way to a smaller plateau nestled between the colossal cliffs. The air grew denser, heavy with the scent of jungle-like foliage that filled the enclosed space. Vines twisted around the trunks of strange trees, and thick underbrush spread out in every direction, leaving only an uneven path that narrowed before them with every step.
Leon's gaze flicked to the treacherous plants that had nearly killed him last time, their dark blue leaves glistening ominously in the dim light. A nervous lick of his lips betrayed his unease. Camille, riding beside him, wore an expression that mirrored his anxiety. So far, they had always found a way around the bushes, but today there was no alternative path in sight.
The Bandawi led the way, their goats navigating the craggy rocks with unerring precision. Not a word was spoken as they approached the dense wall of blue leaves. Without hesitation, the Bandawi vanished into the mass of foliage, their figures swallowed by the thicket.
"Are we supposed to follow them?" Camille asked in disbelief as she stared at the tangled web of plants blocking their way.
The two Bandawi tailing the group halted right behind them. "Go, it's fine," one of them said.
"Are you sure?" Camille's eyes darted between the Bandawi and the looming jungle, uncertainty written all over her face.
"It's fine," the other Bandawi repeated.
Leon, sensing Camille's tension, made a decision. "Alright, I'll go first and check it out," he said, nudging his goat forward. Despite the blue plants being no longer a threat to him since he had the blessing, an irrational fear gnawed at him as he drew closer to the plants—each step of his goat feeling like a step toward an old nightmare.
He shut his eyes tight and plunged into the bushes. The leaves smeared against his face like cold fingers and he could not help himself but to flinch and jolt away from their touch. His goat, however, pushed forward unfazed, giving him no space for hesitation. Clutching the reins with white-knuckled hands, he let his mount guide them through.
Just as abruptly as it began, the sensation of the plants caressing his skin ceased. Leon blinked in surprise, glancing around. The dense foliage had given way to a forest devoid of shrubbery. "Come, it's quite spacious in here," he called out to the others.
The sight before him was stunningly otherworldly. Sapphire blue grasses blanketed the ground, while bone-white trees stood sparsely scattered throughout, their branches covered with blue flowers emitting a faint, ghostly glow. Combined with the deepening twilight, the effect was mesmerizing, as though he had stepped into another realm entirely.
Leon reached out and plucked a large heart-shaped leaf from a branch that hovered just above his head. The branches, though numerous, seemed to have an unspoken rule, growing uniformly outward, each keeping to its own space without encroaching on its neighbors. The leaf's texture was smooth, almost velvety, and as he held it, a faint tingle traced across his skin. He was now resistant—the blessing shielded him, but he knew others were not so fortunate.
Camille emerged from the blue thicket, trembling, her face and hands dotted with tiny marks. Each one was a starting point for thin, lightning-like veins spreading outward.
"Are you all right?" Leon twisted in his saddle to look at her because his goat refused to turn.
Camille did not speak, offering only a shaky nod. Her breaths came in rapid, shallow bursts, and her knuckles whitened as she clutched the reins with all her strength. Leon frowned, his brow furrowing. By now, Camille should have assimilated enough; such brief exposure should pose no threat to her.
The professor appeared next, flanked by the two Bandawi and looking no better than Camille. The Bandawi, like before, stopped right behind them. "Go, we're almost there," one of them said. Leon cast one last worried glance at Camille before urging his goat forward. This time, the animal obeyed.
Even in the waning daylight, the vegetation around them reflected a soft glow, illuminating their path in a surreal, almost dreamlike manner. Their time in the forest was brief, though; shortly after entering, they veered north, and within minutes, a clearing came into view.
Leon exhaled a sigh of relief. This side of the forest lacked the intimidating wall of shrubbery gating its border. Camille had remained silent since they entered, and he feared that another encounter with the plants might be more than she could handle.
In the clearing, the Bandawi were already setting up the camp. Leon, Camille, and the Professor passed by them, approaching the gaping maw of the cave that loomed ahead. From a distance, the cave seemed to be nothing more than a dark, foreboding hole carved into the cliff of a mesa. But up close, its sheer scale was awe-inspiring. The entrance was a massive stone arch, weathered and eroded over millennia, its surface etched with scars of countless years, each groove and crevice telling the story of ancient times. As Leon stood before the towering hole, a chill crept down his spine. This was more than a mere geological formation; it was a relic of a time long past, a silent witness to eras that had come and gone, and it would stand here long after his death.
Camille, sitting on her goat beside Leon, spoke in a hushed tone, "It's intimidating, isn't it? Like we're standing before a giant beast, waiting to be swallowed whole."
Leon turned to her, feeling a small surge of relief. Her voice was weak, but he saw a glimmer in her eyes as she stared at the pitch-black opening. "Yes, it is," he agreed.
The professor had already dismounted, striding toward the cave's entrance. "Shall we take a peek?" he asked, throwing the question in their direction as he glanced over his shoulder.
"Now? It's getting late. Shouldn't we wait until morning?" Leon objected, eyeing Camille and the Professor with concern. Both still looked pale, and their movements were sluggish.
"It's a cave. What difference does day or night make?" the professor called back, not slowing his pace. Camille trailed after him without hesitation, leaving Leon with little choice but to follow. He reluctantly abandoned his goat and hurried to catch up.
Inside, jagged stalactites hung from the cave's ceiling, their sharp edges resembling the fangs of some ancient, petrified beast. Camille's earlier remarks echoed in Leon's mind, feeding his growing unease. Though the cave's mouth was massive from the outside, the corridor shrank quickly with each step they took, reinforcing Leon's feeling that he was descending into the maw of a monstrous creature.
When the darkness was about to swallow them, Camille and the Professor conjured light, each summoning a fist-sized glowing orb that hovered above their hands. Camille's orb radiated a warm orange hue, while the professor's emitted a stark, pure white light. The color difference resulted from their natural aptitudes leaking into the way they shaped the Power—it influenced the outcome, even though the technique was the same.
Leon patted the pocket where he kept a small lightstone. He preferred not to think about what would happen if he got separated from the others, left alone in the dark, with no light source. Neither Camille nor the professor could understand the struggle of the Powerless.
The three of them pressed deeper into the cave, navigating its winding corridors. The professor seemed certain of the paths they were taking, likely recalling the detailed descriptions he had memorized from the journal. As they descended further into the cavernous belly of the mesa, the temperature dropped noticeably, and the air grew thicker, the scent of earth and time pervading their senses. Shadows twisted and coiled across the rough walls, cast by the glowing orbs that bobbed through the air. The light cut through the inky blackness, revealing the towering stalagmites and stalactites looming above and around them like stone sentinels. The interplay of light and dark created an eerie, mesmerizing display, giving the cave a mystical ambiance that magnified Leon's unease, yet he could not help but be in awe of this stunning spectacle of ever-shifting shadows.
Their path led them to a large cavern. Unlike the narrow corridors they had been traversing, this chamber stretched wide and tall, its ceiling lost in darkness high above. But what immediately seized their attention was not the size of the space—it was the vast wall of obsidium. Its surface shimmered with an iridescent sheen, much like volcanic glass, reflecting the swirling light from their magical orbs as though an enormous mirror had been embedded in the stone.
The professor, barely containing his excitement, rushed toward the obsidium. "Incredible! Absolutely incredible!" His words echoed through the cavern. "The journal was right! It really is here." He shook his head in amazement while his light orb hovered near the wall, unveiling an intricate network of crevices running along its surface. It formed an enchanting pattern that seemed almost intentional, as if it represented a long-forgotten ancient script.
Camille's weariness seemed to recede somewhat at the sight of the professor's elation, and she approached the wall as well, her orb's orange hue adding warmth to the otherwise monochrome view. Meanwhile, Leon was entranced by something else entirely—not by the wall, but by the waves slamming into it and bouncing away, turning into a sea of myriad ripples. He saw the waves even here, deep underground, and like on the surface, they seemed to ignore all matter, permeating through everything unobstructed, interested only in each other. Except for the wall.
Leon traced the ripples as they moved from the surrounding rocks toward the obsidium, where they collided and rebounded in complex patterns. He realized that the wall before them was merely a small window into a much larger structure buried deep within the stone.
"My dear disciples!" The professor turned to them, his eyes alight with fervor. "You may not be aware of how grandiose our discovery is, but know that there are only four pieces of free-ranging obsidium. Three of them are in Tramiria, owned by the Empire, and one is on Nadoo. Besides them, there is, of course, Dragon's Teeth—the range of massive pyramids made entirely of obsidium—but to this day no one ever managed to chip even the smallest obsidium fragment off them. This thing is indestructible." He paused to accent his last sentence. "It puts things into perspective. Who made it? Pyramids don't form naturally, so they have to be artificial. And what's more important, what force broke those four smaller pieces when even the strongest Great Mages failed to make a single scar on its surface?
"And now we found a new piece. Far away from the pyramids. What could that mean? Pyramids…" The professor's eyes lost focus. "Could it be that it is also a pyramid? Just one buried underground? That's…" He stopped talking as his mind wandered into a deep contemplation.
Leon could not help but smile at the professor's use of the term 'free-ranging' to describe a block of material, but as his gaze scanned the stone walls surrounding the obsidium, he knew one thing—the ripples he observed hinted that behind the solid rocks the obsidium stretched in all directions; it was massive. It might be a pyramid, but it was definitely not 'free-ranging'.
The professor blinked, snapping out of his reverie. "Enough speculations. Let's see what else we can find in here," he said, turning to Camille. "Would you do your thing?"
"Certainly." Camille's answer was brief, but her smile held quite a confidence that seemed to warm the coldness of their surroundings, her Power already shaping the energy into an intricate swarm of crimson dots as she walked toward the center of the chamber. The conjured swarm coalesced around her, covering her in a haze of tiny particles. Unlike the light orbs, these little dots were faint, more akin to fireflies flickering in the dark than torches. They orbited her figure, dancing in the air, slowly growing delicate tendrils of light extending from their base.
With a subtle motion of her hand, Camille sent the swarm scattering in all directions. Some particles zoomed back down the corridor their group had arrived from, while others spread across the cavern, whizzing along the walls, floor, and ceiling. They soon disappeared from sight, darting into the many crevices, holes, and small tunnels that branched off from the cavernous space.
Leon had witnessed Camille's ability in the past. She described it to him as a subtle but powerful tool, a way to map enclosed areas at a distance, a sense of the physical world around her not limited by her body. When the tendrils of the crimson particles touched an object, they relayed the sensation back to her, creating a tactile map of their surroundings. Because of the tendrils' short range, the ability was useful only in confined spaces. In the open fields, the vast distances rendered her dots effectively blind.
Leon marveled at the usefulness of her skill. The chamber was a dead-end; it had no other exits. But thanks to the swarm of tiny drones, they could check every nook and cranny not accessible to their physical selves otherwise.
While Camille focused all her attention on searching the area, Leon approached the professor. "Professor, I have a question," he said.
"Hm?" the professor muttered, turning toward him, half-distracted.
"We didn't know what to expect; you had told us only that we were going to explore some old cave. But judging by your reaction, am I correct to guess that you knew about the obsidium wall? If it was in the journal, is it really our discovery?"
The professor's lips curled into a thoughtful smile as he stroked his beard. "I didn't know, but I hoped. Old Forey, the author of the journal, had never seen obsidium in his life, so he was not aware of what he had found. His descriptions were also a bit misleading—he thought the patterns on the wall were some kind of ancient Bandawi writings. As if those savages could carve obsidium." The professor chuckled. "I would've never organized an expedition based on such a measly scrap of information, but since we traveled so far and were already in Tramiria, it would have been a complete waste to simply return empty-handed. So I thought: why not? Let's check out that Old Forey's story. But I didn't want to excite you in case it really was some ugly Bandawi writings." He paused for a moment. "So, to answer your question, we can let Old Forey have the discovery of the cave, but whatever we find in here is for us to take," the professor finished with a glint in his eyes.
"Professor, I've found something," Camille called out, interrupting their conversation.
Leon and the professor exchanged a glance before hurrying to her side. "What is it, Camille?" the professor asked, his voice tinged with excitement.
"Hold on," Camile said, raising her hand to stop their questions. She had a distant look in her eyes, as if she were focusing on something beyond their sight. Then, without warning, she spun on her heels and darted away.
"Wait! Camille?" Leon called after her.
Camille turned her head, not stopping. "Follow me, I've found a way for us," she said over her shoulder, already exiting the chamber.
They gave chase, following her through the labyrinthine twists and turns of the cave system. Left, then left again, then left once more—Camille seemed to have a clear destination in mind, but to Leon, it felt like they were running in circles. The orbs bobbed around them even more than before, their erratic play of light against the rough stone walls only adding to Leon's sense of disorientation.
Finally, Camille came to a halt. She crouched down next to a low passage, an opening just wide enough for a small child to fit through. She turned back to them, pointing at the narrow tunnel. "It can lead us to what I found, but it's too small. We'll need to widen it," she said.
Leon eyed the tight passage skeptically. "How? We didn't bring digging tools."
Camille and the professor exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions bemused.
"You don't mean…" Leon started, his eyes widening as Camille produced three gleaming crystals from her satchel. "You can't be serious," he blurted out, looking at the professor for support.
Camille seemed undeterred by Leon's pleas. She now held a three-sided metal pin in her other hand. With deft, practiced movements, she began installing the two azure-blue crystals onto the pin.
"But Camille," Leon persisted, "this is a cave. We're underground. If we create a shockwave…"
His warning went unheeded. A final precise gesture and Camille fitted the last crystal, the pure black one, onto the third pin. A distinctive click reverberated as it found its place. As soon as the black crystal was set, the two blue ones started to darken, their lustrous glow replaced by a deep, ominous hue.
"Armed!" Camille announced, a satisfied grin blooming on her face. Without wasting a moment, she crouched low and slid the device into the narrow tunnel, then quickly backed away. "We need to move. Now!" she urged them.
They sprinted back the way they had come from, their footfalls echoing in the confined space. Just around the corner, Camille skidded to a halt. Leon and the professor pulled up beside her, their breath coming in ragged gasps as they pressed themselves against the cool stone, bracing for the detonation.
Meanwhile, Camille stretched out her hand, her fingers splaying wide as a translucent barrier materialized, filling the passage from floor to ceiling. It shimmered with a faint iridescence, poised to absorb the impending shockwave.
The professor's eyes widened as he saw the barrier take shape. "Stupid disciple!" he cried out, grabbing Camille by the shoulder and yanking her back. She stumbled, barely catching herself. The professor gave her no time to recover, his voice ringing out again, sharp with urgency. "Don't shield the entire corridor, just us! Align the barrier with the wall!"
His words escaped his mouth right before the explosion ripped through the cave. The blast was deafening, a thunderous, bone-rattling roar that reverberated through the stone and shook the ground beneath their feet. Camille reacted instantly to the professor's instructions, reenacting her shield while changing its shape and orientation. What had been a full blockade of the passage transformed into a slim, curved shield that hugged the wall, allowing the shockwave to travel past them without resistance.
In the same heartbeat, Leon glimpsed the professor thrusting out his arm, a faint shimmer forming in the air—a secondary barrier erected, layered over Camille's. But Leon knew the professor's shield was not as strong as Camille's; it was more of a second line of defense, a pitiful one at that.
The shockwave slammed into them with terrifying physical force, sending tremors through their bodies. Dust and small debris whipped past them, deflected by the dual shields. The cave roared with the fury of the blast; the noise bouncing off the stone walls, gradually fading into a low rumble.
As the echoes died away, Camille and the professor exerted their Power to suppress the dust, sweeping it away from them and then gravitating it to the floor. Leon, still catching his breath, watched the professor turn to Camille, his expression dark with anger.
"Stupid!" he spat in a scathing tone. "What idiocy! Trying to seal the whole passage? Where would the pressure have gone? Your barrier would have taken the full brunt of the explosion—you'd have to literally halt it all. Think please, you could have killed us; those energies are no joke."
Camille met the professor's angry gaze with a calm one of her own. "It was my first time using explosives underground, Professor," she said evenly. "The device model is also new to me; for open excavations we've never used such strong explosives as it could damage the relics."
"And is that supposed to let you off the hook?" The professor's face grew hot red. "Re-spon-si-bi-li-ty," he growled, accenting every syllable. "Have you heard of it? Tarra, help me. Why did I even let you bring those crystals with us."
As Camille was opening her mouth, Leon sighed, recognizing the potential for a drawn-out argument. "Hey, we should see what we blew up," he said, hoping it would be enough to divert their attention. His words hung in the air for a moment before both Camille and the professor nodded in agreement.
They approached the newly widened tunnel, stepping over scattered rocks in the debris-laden passage. Leon inspected one of the fallen blocks, noticing the smooth edges, almost as if they had been sliced by an impossibly precise tool. "Sharpness Power?" he murmured, crouching to pick a pebble from the rubble.
Camille, catching his words, stopped as well. "Yes," she confirmed, as her face brightened again. "It's a two-stage explosive. First, it releases multiple rays of Sharpness Power in the direction it faces, and then the traditional explosion follows to finish the job."
Leon gave Camille a blank stare, the gears in his mind replaying the detonation scene but with slight alteration. He imagined the device sliding a tiny bit to the side after she set it down, then visualized them standing against the wall as they had—only to be suddenly severed in half by the invisible blades. He shook his head, trying to dispel the gruesome thought. The tunnel they targeted had widened just enough to let them pass into the more spacious passage beyond, and the slicing effect had only reached about two meters. There was much more stone between the explosion site and the corner they hid behind—they had never been in danger from the Sharpness Power, but the image lingered, refusing to leave Leon's mind.
They continued onward, each lost in their own thoughts. The professor, still seething with a mixture of irritation and concern, trudged along with a grim expression. "So, what was it you found exactly?" He could not suppress his curiosity, though his tone remained gruff. "To what are you taking us?"
"You'll see soon," Camille cut it dry.
The professor huffed in frustration, unhappy, but said nothing more.
Down they went, following the spiraling path that drew them further underground, the descent leading them deeper and deeper into the bowels of the mesa. Leon found himself zoning out, mechanically following Camille. The hypnotic dance of the shadows cast by their light orbs pulled his focus, the shifting shapes creating a rhythm that lulled his thoughts.
"It's here," Camille announced, snapping Leon out of his dreamy state. She then approached an alcove shrouded in darkness, and they followed.
"That's… obsidium?" the professor said in disbelief. The structure in the alcove glistened as if wet, imposing its dark, lustrous material.
As they neared the structure, its alien-like geometry became more apparent. The statue, as they assumed it to be, seemed to be hewn from simple geometric shapes, more akin to an abstract piece of art rather than a detailed sculpture. It mimicked a humanoid figure but lacked a distinct neck and head. Instead, the statue sported a bulge where the head should have been, extending into its shoulders. The wall from which the statue extruded hid anything below its torso, and with the statue's hands sprouting forward, it looked as if it fought to free itself from the stone prison.
The professor wasted no time, his hands already tracing the sharp, clean edges of the obsidium structure. He was clearly awestruck, his eyes wide and mouth open as he ran his fingers across the indestructible material that someone had managed to sculpt.
Leon stared too, captivated by the spectacle only he could see. The blue waves bounced off the statue the same way he had seen them earlier, but here, the obsidium surface was far more complex, elevating the mesmerizing display. Waves collided with the polygonal edges, scattering, refracting, bending, and bouncing back in an array of chaotic patterns. They seemed to mold themselves to the shape of the sculpture, just for a moment, before rebounding into a sea of ripples that cascaded in all directions like the epicenter of a tempest.
Leon reached to his belt, unclasping a specialized tool he called the 'Conductor'. It was a versatile implement, a kind of screwdriver designed to activate the tiny powerstones embedded within its thick handle via several analog switches. The pointed end, a slim metal needle, was used to administer the Power.
He placed the tip of the needle on the statue's waist, and with a practiced motion, activated the powerstones in sequence: Heat, Life, Water, Air. The obsidium absorbed nothing, remaining indifferent. Leon's tool vibrated, telling the story of the deflected energy spreading around the point of contact. As a Powerless, he could not follow the Power with his mind as mages could; all his feedback was the slight tremors running across the Conductor's handle. But it was enough—he had learned to feel even the most minuscule changes in vibrations, and what they meant. That exceptional intuition was the reason why, despite his fatal flaw, he was considered a genius of his generation.
(It's not only the waves that can't penetrate obsidium. Interesting, I've never heard of any material able to passively block the Power. It could be huge if we could produce it,) he mused.
Undeterred by the statue's resistance, Leon reached for another tool from his belt—an identical Conductor. (Let's see how impregnable you really are,) he mused, bringing the handles of the two Conductors together. The end caps met with a shallow thud as the Entanglement stones incorporated within them collided. He then flipped a switch for a brief moment before shutting it off again, giving it just enough time to link the stones. Great Mages could create communication stones that lasted years using Entanglement Power, but Leon's setup would only last a few minutes at best.
Positioning the needles on opposite sides of the statue's torso, he activated another switch on his left Conductor, sending the bonded energy out to seek its counterpart. Next, he traced slow, circular paths with the needles. His reasoning was simple: if obsidium could block the Entanglement Power—the most ethereal kind of energy that hardly interacted with any matter—then the energy would scatter around the statue, bouncing off its surface back and forth in an attempt to assume the shortest path to its bonded other half. This, in turn, would give him information about whether the statue's surface was uniform in its reaction to the Power. The vibrations in response to this scenario would be chaotic, given the energy streams would take varying amounts of time to reach their destinations, depending on how the obsidium deflected them. On the other hand, if Entanglement could penetrate the glossy material after all, the response would be more akin to a constant, static buzz.
To Leon's surprise, the response he received from the Conductors matched neither scenario he had expected. The stream was steady, but unfocused, as if the Entanglement Power could invade the statue's interior but was then deflected or redirected by something within. His brow furrowed in confusion. (Could there be even more mysterious material hidden inside? Or maybe it reacts to some change in properties, like density—maybe obsidium is denser inside,) he mused over the possible explanations.
(Wait, no. The response is too consistent. If the energy were scattering around the obstacles within, the pattern would be much more chaotic.)
After a few seconds of contemplation, Leon's eyes widened in realization. There was only one thing he knew that could make the Power willing to alter its path other than natural properties of matter. The words flashed through his mind like a revelation: 'Ao threads'.
"Professor!" Leon shouted, excited.
The professor turned his head. "Hm?" He raised his brows.
"It's not a statue! It's a construct!" Leon's grin spread wide across his face.
"What?" The professor's eyes narrowed in thought. "Like," he paused, searching for the right word. "… an automaton?" he finished.
Leon nodded eagerly as his grin deepened. "It's the only explanation. The responses I'm getting are too even, the intervals are changing in cycles. It must be wired with Ao threads."
But before the professor could respond, Camille's orange light orb suddenly winked out of existence. Startled by the dimming of their surroundings, both Leon and the professor turned their attention to Camille.
"I… I don't feel good," she said, raising her hand in front of her. Her voice was barely audible, trembling with fatigue. She clasped and reopened her palm several times. "I can't." She shook her head. "The Power… it won't listen to me."
Leon squinted, peering at Camille's face. The blue marks from before, from when they had passed through the Highlands' foliage, reappeared in the same spots. The web-like veins spread across her skin, their slim tendrils scurrying with frenetic energy.
Camille blinked rapidly, swaying to the sides. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. Then her knees buckled, and she collapsed.
Leon lunged forward, barely catching her before she hit the cavern floor. Her body was limp in his arms, unconscious. "Professor!" Panic sharpened his voice as he called out, his gaze locked on the blue veins snaking across Camille's face. "We need to get her out of here, now!"
The professor rushed over, and together they lifted Camille, each supporting one of her arms. They began their arduous ascent, retracing their steps up the spiraling path, now lit by the single pale light orb that remained. Each footfall echoed in the cavernous space, the incline sapping their strength with each step.
Leon's muscles screamed in protest, his lungs burning for air. "Professor, are you holding up?" he gasped, his voice strained.
The professor, slightly out of breath but faring much better than Leon, nodded. "I'll manage," he said. "I'm using bits of my Power to reinforce my body."
They followed the same path, now turning right at every junction. When they finally arrived at the initial cavern containing the obsidium wall, both men were panting heavily, sweat trickling down their faces. Leon seized the short pause to catch a few breaths and check Camille's condition. Her face was still a network of pulsating blue veins. She murmured in delirium, her words garbled and unintelligible. Leon's heart pounded in his chest, a relentless drum mimicking his rising fear. "Let's continue," he said, despite the exhaustion clawing at his body.
The professor nodded and took the lead, guiding them from memory. They trudged step by step, the easing incline aiding their efforts. To Leon's mind, their journey to the surface felt like an eternity. He focused solely on keeping his feet moving, his eyes locked on the rocky floor in front of his shoes.
Suddenly, deep, impenetrable darkness swallowed him whole—the world disappeared. He staggered under the sudden increase in weight, nearly losing his footing. Deprived of the sense of sight, with Camille's full body weight boring down on him, he struggled to gently lower her to the ground without losing his own balance.
Once his hands were free, he fumbled to find his precious lightstone while straining his ears for any sign of the professor. His fingers soon closed around the small device, and with a flick of a switch, he ignited the stone. It bathed the cave in pale yellow light, revealing Camille at his feet and the professor slumped against the wall, blue veins creeping across his face as well.
"We're close," the professor wheezed. "Straight ahead, one crossing… You have to go, Leon. Get help."
Leon stood panting for a moment, his eyes wide open. Then, as if he had just awoken from a dream, he grabbed Camille's body and, with great care, maneuvered it against the wall next to the professor. As he pulled his hand away, the professor's grip tightened on Leon's wrist.
"Leon, listen to me," he said, his voice intense. "You mustn't tell the Bandawi about our findings. I know you were getting close with them, but they are… they can be radical savages, unpredictable. We can't foresee how they'd react. You can't say anything." His eyes pierced Leon's in his plea.
Leon nodded, breaking away from the professor's weakening grip. Their discoveries meant nothing to him at that moment—his only concern was Camille's safety. Without another word, he turned and hurried forward, leaving his companions behind in the cold, silent darkness.