Dinis stood in silence, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He was in a region of desolate plains, where only rocks and sparse, dry vegetation stretched out, as if even the land itself refused to give life to that place. The desolate lands he had to cross to reach the foot of the Great Mountain were known to many as the "Cursed Lands," a grim and unforgiving expanse where countless travelers had met their end. But Dinis did not know the common fear of men; in his chest, there was only determination.
His mentor, Everard, a former Sentinel, had prepared him for situations like this. It was he who had taken Dinis in years ago, still a child, after the mysterious night of his parents' disappearance. Everard had taught Dinis everything he knew—combat techniques, survival strategies, and above all, the strength of spirit needed to face any danger. Years of training had molded him into a rare warrior, powerful and focused, even among Sentinels. Now, Dinis was the monster that even monsters feared.
He continued his journey, traversing increasingly inhospitable regions. For weeks, he crossed dry valleys, raging rivers, and treacherous hills. Nature seemed to become more hostile as he approached his destination: the Forest of Eternal Passage.
There was no shortage of stories about the forest—frightening legends that said those who crossed its borders were trapped forever, their souls condemned to wander in endless torment. But Dinis did not fear legends. To him, stories were just a distant echo of the truth, a way to ward off the curious and protect what was hidden in that wood.
Upon reaching the forest's entrance, Dinis felt a strange chill in the air. The ground was damp, and the smell of moss mixed with something more bitter, almost like iron. The trees stood in all their grandeur, so tall and dense that they blocked the sunlight. It felt as if even the gods had abandoned that place.
Without hesitation, he took the first step inside, hearing the oppressive silence of the woods closing around him. As he advanced, strange sounds began to fill the air—distant laughter, whispers, and muffled cries. They sounded like human voices, but there was something odd about them, like empty memories.
After days of walking in the somber forest, something caught his attention. Ahead, a staggering figure dragged itself among the trees, stumbling over roots and leaning on mossy trunks. It was an elderly man, wrapped in rags, muttering disconnected words as he struggled to stay upright. Dinis approached silently, alert to any threat. Hearing the man's hoarse whisper, he caught fragments of what seemed to be a mantra:
"I need to find the seven mountains... for me... for Pearl... I need... to find..."
The man kept repeating the words, as if they were the last anchor holding him to sanity. Curious, Dinis decided to approach him, choosing his words carefully:
"Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me your name?"
The question interrupted the old man's incessant murmuring. He raised his eyes to Dinis, and for a moment, lucidity returned to his dull eyes. Tears began to stream down his wrinkled face, tracing lines in the accumulated dirt of years.
"You... you need to get out of here..." he said with a choked voice. "There's no salvation left for me, but you're still young... you still have a life. Run while you can. Leave this cursed place and never come back."
Dinis looked at the man, curious and moved, but without retreating.
"Why should I fear this forest? And what brings you here, sir? What is so important that keeps you in these lands?"
The old man seemed to struggle to understand the question, as if the answer was trapped in the mists of his memory. Finally, his trembling fingers reached for the necklace hanging on his chest. A small pearl dangled from a rusty chain, dirty and worn by time. As he touched it, his eyes shone for an instant.
"This... this pearl... it's all I have left of her," he said, while silent tears fell. "My dear Pearl... I promised I would find her. That I would take her to the Seven Mountains, where we would be at peace... But this place... it takes souls... consumes our dreams and leaves us wandering, lost..."
Dinis listened attentively, observing the weight of the man's pain. He knew that this could be more than an illusion; something drove him to discover what this old man was truly seeking. He touched him lightly on the shoulder, trying to keep the man's attention.
"Who is Pearl? And what are the Seven Mountains?" Dinis asked, his voice gentle but firm.
The old man looked at Dinis, as if those words had pulled something deep from his memory, a recollection long forgotten. His eyes, previously clouded, gleamed for a brief moment, as if he were about to relive moments buried by time. He held the necklace with the pearl, his trembling fingers caressing it softly, and opened his mouth to speak.
But then, as if bidding farewell to lucidity for the last time, he began to murmur a story about what he was searching for and how he had ended up there, lost in that forest.