Ralak ventured deeper into the luminous forest, the vibrant glow of the alien flora lighting his path. The enormous trees, their bark shimmering with an ethereal light, seemed almost sentient, subtly bending and shifting as if guiding him. Strange alien beasts roamed nearby, their eyes catching his presence, but none dared approach. Instead, they slunk back into the shadows, as if recognizing the divine aura surrounding him.It felt as if the entire forest was conspiring to aid him in fulfilling his mission. With a smile, Ralak pressed forward, assured that the Primordial God was by his side.
After nearly three hours of walking, he reached a small Nyth settlement. This was only one of many tribes scattered throughout the forest, but it was teeming with life. About a hundred Nyths were already gathered outside, waiting. The leader of the group that had attacked him earlier shouted, "THAT'S HIM! IT'S THE EVIL MAGIC MAN!"
Ralak raised his hands peacefully. "I mean no harm, my friends of the forest. I come only to preach the word of my Lord."
"PREACH IT SOMEWHERE ELSE! WE DON'T WANT ANY EVIL MAGIC HERE!" the tribe's leader yelled, his face twisted in anger.
Ralak could see the fear and misunderstanding in their eyes. Unsure of how to change their minds, he closed his eyes and silently prayed to Carter. "Lord, the Nyth cannot see your truth. Please, help me show them."
As if in response to his plea, a golden light began to shine down on a large tent in the center of the tribe. The beam of light bathed the tent in a radiant glow, unlike anything the Nyth had ever seen.
Ralak opened his eyes and smiled, knowing his prayer had been answered. "The Lord has spoken," he declared, his voice strong and certain. Ralak moved toward the tent at the center of the Nyth tribe. Though the Nyth warriors bristled, eager to stop him, it was as if something unseen forced them to stillness. Their mouths remained closed, hands frozen, and despite their inner protests, they found themselves parting to make way for him. Eyes followed him as he walked, their expressions a mix of fear, confusion, and awe.
As Ralak entered the large, looming tent, he was struck by the overwhelming sight before him. The air inside was thick with illness and suffering. Rows of sick Nyth lay on makeshift beds, their once-proud, tall bodies weakened by disease. Some looked too feeble to even open their eyes, while others moaned softly in pain. It wasn't just a handful; there were dozens—perhaps more than a hundred—clinging to life inside the dimly lit space.
The tribe members crowded at the entrance of the tent, watching in silence as Ralak stood in the center of the room, feeling the weight of their suffering. He knew this was the moment Carter had guided him to, the reason his prayer had been answered.