{first person POV}
I stepped out of the dreary bathroom after a twenty-minute shower and glanced at the run-down house around me.
' It's time for me to go... I have to pack my bags as soon as possible '
I walked quickly to my bag, which was on a faraway sofa, still so euphoric from running for forty minutes that I didn't realize when or how my feet hit the edge of the wooden table.
The pain caused the expression on my face to change and I couldn't help but force myself to fall onto the sofa to minimize the damage.
The edge of my hand hit my blue bag and I felt a lot of pain, but I didn't think about it. The edge of my hand created a small hole in my bag that was no longer usable.
"crap!!"
I put the bag away and stood with clear pain on my face, no time to feel angry and complain, the bus will arrive any time now.
I moved quickly, but cautiously this time to avoid any further incident, and searched every place that crossed my mind.
All I want now is a suitable travel bag that can accommodate my clothes and some other items, although I know the right place to get the perfect one, I did not want to go there.
Three minutes later, I found myself in front of the cursed white door. I always wanted to check out my father's things and take care of them. I wanted to clean his room and remember the good times, but this door stood as a barrier in front of me.
Forced by the situation, my hand subconsciously moved and moved the doorknob downward.
The normal sound of the door sounded like the cries of the darkest demons to me and caused my mind to muddle with an old story.
I was six then and only a week before my mother died, I was sitting on my father's lap while he was reading me an old story.
I was so eager to hear and analyze every word, important or not, that I dared not breathe out loud.
My father was a professional storyteller, and I loved listening to his tales of brave adventurers. One of my favorites was the story of a brave explorer looking for hidden treasure.
The adventurer had heard rumors of an ancient temple deep in the jungle filled with untold riches and after months of searching he finally found it, but between him and his target were hordes of fierce warriors who swore to protect their treasures from any intruder.
Undeterred by this challenge, he fought them off one by one until they all finally fell at his feet.
Finally, our hero manages to enter the temple, discovering inside, there were shimmering piles of gold coins and jewels that cannot be compared! He took everything he could carry before leaving the site behind forever, richer than ever!
I always thought that this adventurer was a brave hero, but I realized the truth recently, this adventurer is nothing but a bloody bandit who stole an entire city without feeling ashamed...
"It's been several hours already, that's enough!"
I remembered the sound of my mother screaming from far away as she reminded us to eat dinner...
I remembered our tripartite relationship, me, my father, and my mother...
My father is a middle-aged man with black hair and brown eyes, his look is above average but he is not considered entirely handsome, he has the air of a confident man that forces everyone around him to respect him and consider his words. He is just over 5"8 feet in height and is considered a bit short.
His face showed signs of aging with wrinkles, but his expression remained calm and full of composure.
my mother can be described as similar to him. Her green eyes stand out against her black hair, giving her an almost ethereal quality to her appearance.
She looks graceful even though she is a little shorter than my father.
The two wore tasteful outfits that accentuated their looks while still keeping their looks effortlessly chic together.
I never knew what my father's real job was, I didn't remember seeing my father ever go to work and the same for my mother. it is not possible to buy a house like this without finding a job that provides a very huge income.
In this era and during the world war, buying a house was a luxury of the highest level, so buying a house without working is something that cannot be achieved.
I always remembered my father performing a certain movement, similar to a dance, but it is not a dance, it is like a fighting style of some kind, but it is too beautiful to be dedicated to killing and fighting. My father called these movements "Echoes of Grace".
I practiced this with my father a lot to perform this movement before I was 14 when my father disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Without a guide, I quickly forgot the movements and my once extremely flexible body began to stiffen again and it was hard to remember the movements again.
I suddenly snapped out of my thoughts and found myself staring into space for a full minute.
I finally kept moving and tried to ignore our triptychs hanging on the wall and all the memorabilia but I failed.
Tears flowed down my cheeks as I looked at a picture of my mother, whom I had not seen for 11 years, and of my father, who went missing three years ago.
They've hung an elementary school award that reads "Best Student" on the highest shelf in the room, it's the first thing they ever see when they wake up.
They loved me so much and I did the same for them, even though we always quarreled over some trivial things like school and grades, we always loved each other.
I miss the feeling of waking up under my mother's scolding, having breakfast with her before going to kindergarten, and talking to my childhood friends whose names I can't remember now.
I was pushed by a torrent of emotions but I had to move quickly, I went to the familiar place under the bed where my father used to put his black bag there.
No one, not even my mom, was allowed to check the bag and we didn't think much about that anyway. The trust my mom and I put in my dad was incredible so we didn't doubt his words.
Anyway, due to the critical situation, I had to break my previous promise and open the black bag, which had not changed its location.
"This..."
Amazement, that's all I can describe the feeling inside my heart right now, two items with a purple light shining across the room and a message in the middle, along with a few pictures.
I ignored the two items that I could make a fortune if I sold them and held the letter while my hands were trembling, is everything I knew about my father true? Is he really a normal person?
I slowly opened the cover of the letter and took out the white paper while reading it.
[
January 1, 1997.
Dear friend, Cazador.
I have some exciting news to share with you, I recently found something that can help you in what you are searching for the most, it is called {the Temple of the King of Healers}, and the rumors say it has powerful healing properties.
The history of the temple dates back hundreds of years ago, specifically before the Mystic Era. I have conducted this research myself and you can be sure of their authenticity.
I think it would be good for us if we visit there sometime soon so we can experience what this particular place has to offer and if it can do what you always wanted to do
Sincerely, [Ivanov]
]
The message ended like this, and my hand continued to tremble non-stop.
The date on this piece of paper goes back to exactly three years ago and the day my father disappeared, the possibility that my father was alive somewhere made me shudder with delight.
When I read the letter my father had received before he disappeared, my heart raced with excitement and fear. The letter was from someone named Ivanov, but it carried a clue that could solve the mystery of my father's disappearance.
The Temple of the King of Healers, a place with powerful healing properties, is mentioned in the letter. According to the research of the person named: Ivanov, it dates back to hundreds of years ago, before the Mystic Era.
But the most important thing was that the letter hinted at the possibility that my father could still be alive. If he had already discovered the secrets of the temple and used them, he could still be in there somewhere.
I knew I had to find out more about this temple and what it had to offer. Perhaps it was key to finding my father and revealing the truth behind his disappearance.
My heart rate increased and I felt as if I was about to have a heart attack, the last time I felt this much happiness was when I discovered the secret cave, and even that happiness is not comparable to what I feel now.
My list of goals immediately changed and I added something on top of exploring all the secrets of the world.
Finding my dad!
The feeling of excitement I hadn't felt since I was a kid, the feeling of wanting to go out and explore came back to me and permeated my body.
But… "Where is the Temple of the King of Healers?"
I grabbed the paper that fell to the ground a few seconds ago to check it out and make sure I finished reading it completely.
I cannot underestimate how important this is or else I may not be able to get any further from it, the most important thing in this world to me is my father.
I turned the paper over and finally found a hint, a five-pointed magic circle emblem inscribed in the middle of it that caught my attention very much.
Three strangely shaped hands joined together in the center of the emblem and emitted an aura familiar to me. I have spent the past three years near the source of this aura and it is natural for me to know its source.
This logo is the first thing I saw when I found the secret cave and I remember how scared I felt then.
The only thing that kept me going at that time, the only thing that could calm me down was exploration or at least that's what I thought at the time.
My thoughts suddenly stopped when I heard a car noise from outside and I panicked, the bus is here!"
I put my father's exotic equipment in the back of the bag before I loaded my few clothes.
I never found the clothes to be something to think about since they always ended up being completely ruined after every ride.
That's why I was able to put my few clothes in the bag with the equipment and it was still a bit empty and of course, I didn't forget the most important things, money and some water to drink along the way.
I then immediately stood up and removed the handle of the bag from its position to pull it properly without having to bend over to reach for it.
I moved as fast as I could gather it and pushed the doorknob hard before locking it with a pair of dusty black keys.
Then I looked at the long black bus that completely covered the area in front of my house. The house is not small and is the size of several regular buses, but the one in front of me seems to be a bit special.
The door of the bus opened and its driver looked at me without any expressions, and I did the same for him. The identity card and invitation to the institute I got from my father's will were required and I did not hesitate to hand them over.
"Just come in."
The old man spoke in a tired tone and I felt a little guilty for letting him wait so long but I couldn't do anything about it.
'Well, what do we have here...'
I thought while looking at the strangers inside the bus, well I have to admit most of them are better than me in many ways.
Strange people who only had one thing in common, which was the hateful looks at me, although this is understandable since I caused the bus to stop for several minutes, I did not like it.