In the desert of Atas, there are thousands of nomadic tribes, large and small.
Humans, elves, and halflings have established their own settlements in the desert, mainly relying on grazing Megilots and shell beetles for their livelihoods. But many times, they will also be happy to guest robbers to increase their wealth.
Larger tribes, in addition to strong warriors, will also have their own psions, who will serve as the eyes and minds of the tribe. In many cases, the reason why a tribe can become strong and strong is because a Psion was born.
The Scorpion Tribe was originally a large tribe in the area of Tyre, with a powerful and wise Psion who has long served as the singer of the tribe. Unfortunately, this chant passed away not long ago due to old age and frailty. Therefore, the current Scorpio tribe, except for Muhadi, does not have a master of psionic power. Although it also has nearly a thousand brave warriors, it is worthy of the title of the big tribe. But this situation is dangerous, and the scorpions will face an extremely dangerous situation if at war with other large clans with psion.
Sheikh Abiad and Muhadi's master, Fatumai, attached great importance to this matter. Just when Muhadi stayed in Bazari every day to hoard the money of the caravans and travelers, the two had already searched for it. A teacher who can impart psionic knowledge.
On this day, when the dark red sun had just risen from the horizon of Athas, Fatuma rushed into Muhadi's room. "Hell, how long are you going to sleep?! Two minutes and we'll go right away. If you're not ready in two minutes, get ready to walk through the desert naked."
The place Fatuma was taking Muhadi to was called the Dust Palace, located in an ancient ruin less than half a day's ride from the tribal settlement. Legend has it that a long time ago, when Athas existed in the sea, the ruins where the Dust Hall was located was a castle by the sea. The never-ending surging waves slapped its outer wall non-stop. The ancients used psychic powers to make it extremely strong, and the so-called violent tsunami couldn't shake it at all. Now, however, the sea has long dried up and the castle has become dilapidated, with only the hot sand and strong winds remaining.
The two rode side by side on the sand, Fatuma threw a small package over, and Muhadi reached out to catch it.
"This is your tuition fee."
"tuition fee?"
"Of course, otherwise you don't think that old witch will teach you the skills of psionic power for free? What do you think I've been busy with these days? Isn't it just raising the old witch's reward?"
Although she didn't know who "that old witch" was in her mouth, Muhadi was a little touched when he thought that Fatuma had been busy these days and was actually collecting money for himself. Forget it, when I'm free in the future, I won't ask you to settle accounts.
Fatuma thought for a while and decided to give Muhadi some additional information. "Remember, Muhadi. We are going to visit an old psionicist who lives in the Hall of Dust, who is said to have been a vurizi (a special profession of Arthas) in the psychic monastery when she was young. , a kind of nuns of the good faction who learn the way of psionics and druids. For details, see the setting of the setting sun of the catastrophe.), but was quickly kicked out."
"Deep research on the spirits can make her withdrawn and weird, so she is now hiding in the Hall of Dust. It is said that she has lived for hundreds of years, but no one can be sure. However, the previous Psion in the tribe also They all learned from her, she said at least there are those who are over a hundred years old."
"It is said that she usually haunts the empty halls alone, absorbing nutrients from the dust and shadows. She does not allow any outsiders to enter, except for apprentices who have paid school fees. Even if I come to the door, this old witch only uses Psionic transmission."
Fatuma turned his head to look at Mohadi beside him. "From the words of her former apprentice, she is irritable and unreasonable, so be careful." Her words didn't reveal a trace of concern.
The two quickly reached the gray ruins where the Dust Hall was located. The hall itself was long and low, without towers and windows, like a huge stone snake coiled in the forest of black bark. The trees in the forest are short and sparse, with needle-like leaves common to desert species. However, unlike ordinary trees, their needles are blue, and the hallucinogenic drink called "Night Shadow Water" by desert herders is made from them.
There are no other buildings nearby. Black tiles covered the roof of the main hall, many of which had fallen or were damaged, and the plaster between the stones was mostly dry and crumbled. Seeing it, Muhadi immediately understood why it was called the Temple of Dust. The horses under the crotch of the two seemed to become a little uneasy as they approached this place.
This place is scary, Muhadi thought, but for some reason he couldn't explain it himself, he didn't want to show weakness in front of Fatuma.
"Very well," Muhadi said. "Now should I go in and find that old witch... Psion?"
Before Fatuma could answer, a clear command sound came from the direction of the hall, and it sounded directly in the minds of the two of them.
"This man must enter alone, this is the only way." Was the psion constantly watching to see if anyone came outside, Muhadi thought. "If he turns around at this moment, the door of the soul will be closed to him forever."
At this moment, Fatuma was riding beside Muhadi with an unpleasant expression. Even if the boy wanted to retreat, there was no way out.
Muhadi nodded to Fatuma, then tried to urge the horse to move forward, but found that the horse just stayed where he was, as if he was obsessed, and would not move half a step. The boy had to turn over and dismount, and walked forward under Fatuma's concerned eyes.
Although the black forest is very sparse, the sun has dimmed strangely, and the temperature has dropped a few degrees unconsciously. The road was longer than Muhadi imagined, from outside the Black Forest to the main entrance of the main hall.
At this time, the command sounded again, "Take a fork in the road."
Why? Muhadi couldn't help thinking,
The voice seemed to pierce Muhadi's thoughts, "There is no entry or exit, because the Hall of Dust was not built by mortals. After entering, remember to go through the first door on the right every time. Climb up, never down. Come and go as well as leave."
Muhadi thought to himself, then he took a fork in the road, detoured to the back of the main hall, and pushed open a false stone door.
The teenager found himself entering a stone hall with doors on each side, and he stepped into the door on the right without hesitation. The second room is exactly the same as the first. He chose the door on the right again, and after pushing it open, he saw another four-door stone room. What kind of sorcery is this, am I hallucinating in my head?
The fourth room is not square, but oval, and the walls are no longer stone, but like some kind of rotten wood, it has five doors instead of four, Muhadi still chose the rightmost one One, into a long, dimly lit hallway. The ceiling is very high, and on the right is a row of iron rings with torches. The torches have long been gone, and the iron rings have been rusted beyond recognition. All doors are on the left.
There is some kind of carving on the ground under his feet, but the years of early education have corroded and can't see clearly. Walking on the ground, there is a thumping sound, as if the floor is empty.
In addition to the footsteps, Muhadi heard a small sound, a small, frantic scratching, like the squirming of a mouse, from the wall. More disturbing sounds came from behind some closed doors, one of which was smashed and shook as if something was about to break out, and the other was behind the piercing flute, which made people listen. He was flustered, unable to calm down.
Not all doors are closed. I shouldn't have been distracted, Muhadi told himself, but the temptation was strong.
In one room, he saw a dehydrated corpse, dry and small, and many lizard-like monsters crawled on the corpse to chew on it. They had human eyes, but only the greed and thirst of beasts in their eyes.
Going further, he saw that behind the door was an endless plain. Countless sturdy warriors wrapped in headscarves formed a mighty and majestic army. They formed a neat phalanx with a crescent flag flying above their heads. A man who could not see his face passed by the square formations on horseback. "Holy war! Holy war! Holy war!" All the warriors shouted with all their might, raising thousands of scimitars high, with enthusiasm and sacrifice in their eyes.
Muhadi fled from this door, then stopped at the next door. I recognize this door, he thought. He remembered the mahogany door frame, and recognized the imprints of the keyholes and stickers on the door. This is his old home on Earth, the old house in Tal Bahatai. "Who is it? Son, are you back?" came the mother's voice from the door. No, this is impossible, Muhadi reminded himself in his heart. I am in Arthas, not on Earth. Even in my hometown, I have not been back for many years.
He stepped back and ran away quickly. The promenade stretches and stretches forward, with endless doors on the left and only empty torched iron rings on the right. He didn't know how many doors he ran through, some closed and some open, wooden and stone, some finely carved, some ordinary, some with handles, and some with locks or knockers. Muhadi felt as if something was chasing him, and ran as fast as he could, until he was out of breath.
Finally, a pair of huge bronze doors appear on the left, grander than all the others. As she approached, the door opened automatically, and he couldn't help but stop and watch. Inside the door was the biggest cave he had ever seen in his life. A huge corpse of a dead dragon fell into the cave. Dragon blood was splashed everywhere, and a strange bee-like creature larger than a human was suspended above the dragon corpse. , proudly declared, "Let Arthas see this scene! Let the people of Arthas know that the supernatural has been born, and the era of the Witch King is over!"
Mohadi continued to move forward, as if walking another hourglass, the long corridor finally came to an end, and in front of him was a steep stone staircase leading down into the darkness. Looking back, every door, open or closed, was to his left.
He couldn't go down the stairs, Muhadi still remembered the warning given to him by the "voice", but there was no door on the right side of this ghost corridor, it was completely blank!
Did I accidentally miss it? Or is there a secret door on the right, or an invisible door? Muhadi reached out and fumbled on the right wall, and then he suddenly realized that the first door on the right was the last door on the left.
Muhadi slammed into it. Inside is another four-door cottage. He walked right by the door, right, right, right, right, right, right, until dizzy and breathless.
When he stopped again, there was a stairwell in front of him, and the stone steps spiraled upwards. Muhadi started to climb, and soon his hind legs were sore, and then he thought that from the outside, the Hall of Dust was not very high.
The stairs finally came to an end, and a row of wide wooden doors was half open on the right. They are made of jujube wood and desert willow wood, with black and white textures twisting and swirling to form a peculiar pattern. They are beautiful, but somehow terrifying. I am a decent man, Muhadi said to himself, begging God for courage and strength, then forcing himself to open the door and move on.
Behind the door is a hall with a group of lavishly dressed waiters. Some of them wore sumptuous robes of white sable fur, ruby-colored chamois, and gold cloth; some wore elaborate jewel-encrusted armor; some wore high-pointed hats studded with stars. Among them was a woman who was alluring and beautiful, and her clothes were unusually beautiful. A beam of sunlight slanted in through the stained glass windows at the top of the hall. The most beautiful music in the world was playing in the hall, and even the air seemed to be lively because of it.
A man in a Chinese robe who looked like a waiter stepped forward and smiled slightly at Muhadi. "Muhadi of the Scorpion tribe, welcome, my mistress will teach you the way of the mind."
"We've been waiting for you for a long time," said another waiter, his face shining brightly.
"Chief Abiad and Fatuma have told us your news." The third waiter continued, "We sent our voices to guide you here."
The alluring woman stood up. She was wearing a robe of rose red and silver, her breasts were bare on one side, and the top of her flawless room was pale pink. "You've done a great job, far beyond my imagination. Now that you can pass the test and come here, I'll share the knowledge of psionics with you. Maybe one day, maybe you too can grow to be as powerful as me. Psion."
Doubt gripped Muhadi, there is no way such an extravagant place could exist in the desert, he thought. It is impossible to have such a perfect woman, even the tender skin will wither in the face of dry wind and flying sand. He looked to the right, and there was another door hidden there, an old and gray wooden door, cracked, ordinary... but on his right. The woman persuaded him to stay with a sweet singing voice, but he pushed open the fallen wooden door without hesitation and left her.
Behind the door is a dank stone room... Opposite it is an oval door shaped like an open mouth. Muhadi passed it and found himself walking outside the Dust Hall, where the dark red sun hung in the sky, surrounded by a sparse black forest, and Fatuma stood in front of him on a horse.
"So soon?!" Fatuma exclaimed in surprise, "I haven't left yet."
Muhadi looked at Fatuma in disbelief, "When I turned several hourglasses inside, I didn't find the Psion."
"You must have taken the wrong turn. This old witch likes to play tricks to fool people. Many people who want to learn psionic power fail because they can't find her. Come here, I will lead the way and see what the old witch dares to do. Pattern, my machete needs to taste some blood!" Fatumai stretched out his hand.
This man must be alone, Muhadi remembered the order from the "voice" at the beginning. Fatuma should be outside the Black Forest, it is impossible to come in. Turning to look behind him, he found that there was a small door on the right side of the door he came out from.
He hesitated, and Fatumai burst into anger, "Slave, do you want to rebel against the master?! I ran around to collect enough money, don't let you waste it! Come with me, the psion won't wait long, her time is running out"
No, Fatume said, the Psion said that she is more than a hundred years old, no matter what method she uses to prolong her life, there will be no time crunch.
He walked away from her and went to the right. Behind him, Fatuma's face collapsed inward, gradually turning into a pale maggot.
Through the narrow gate, Muhadi entered a room immersed in darkness.
At first, he thought there was nothing there, but then the coquettish blue light lit up, and he realized that it was a simple stone room, even more dilapidated than the one he lived in. A thin figure leaned against the wall. It was an old woman with a wrinkled face and thinning hair. Her flesh was a plump blue-purple, and her lips and nails were bluer, almost black. Her eyes were also blue-white, with no pupils visible. Next to her sat cross-legged a girl with her head bowed, about the size of a Muhadi, in the linen robes commonly found in deserts, and noticed someone coming in, She looked up very quickly, and then lowered her head again.
"I'm Lyra, Muhadi of the Scorpion tribe..." the old woman said in a voice that was half a whisper and half a moan.
"...I am your Psion Mentor."