The atmosphere in the chamber was alive with both tension and curiosity as Amara stepped forward to introduce herself to the group.
Her bright eyes sparkled with excitement, and a nervous energy seemed to radiate from her.
"I'm Amara," she began confidently.
"I'm currently apprenticing to be a Babaylan cleric here at the palace."
Elliot tilted his head. "Babaylan cleric?" He asked. "What's that?"
"It means she's studying to become a healer," Elder Vaqal replied proudly, placing a gentle hand on Amara's shoulder.
Amara nodded eagerly. "Exactly! I can heal injuries, calm troubled spirits. Plus, I'm pretty good with herbs too!
"So like Miss Maya?," Roshan asked.
Her eyes darted to Amiyan, as she smiled with a bright grin,
"You know my master?"
"Miss Maya's your teacher?" Wuxian echoed, nodding thoughtfully.
"How impressive. We saw her work firsthand multiple times." He looked at Amara with newfound respect.
Roshan grinned, nudging Amara playfully.
"A healer would be amazing to have with us. You have no idea how often we end up bruised and battered."
Elder Vaqal, observing the interaction with a warm smile, shifted her gaze to the Archon, who was watching Amiyan and the group with a soft but pensive expression.
Vaqal's eyes sparkled with mischief as she addressed the Archon, her tone calm yet pointed.
"Maguaien," Vaqal began gently, "since your child will be traveling the world, perhaps it would be wise to send my granddaughter with them. They would certainly benefit from having a healer on their journey."
The Archon's eyes widened, her composed expression faltering slightly. "Oh, Amiyan is actually —"
But before she could complete her sentence, Amiyan and Amara, in a voice full of excitement and pleading exclaimed in unison.
"Really? I can go with them?"
The Archon raised her hands, trying to regain control of the conversation.
"But—"
Vaqal, however, merely raised an eyebrow, an amused smile on her face.
"Children should learn by experiencing the world firsthand, wouldn't you agree, Maguaien?"
There was a gentle firmness to her voice, and the weight of her words seemed to settle over the room, leaving no space for argument.
Maguaien's eyes darted from Amiyan's eager face to Vaqal's steady gaze.
She took a deep breath, clearly grappling with a mix of maternal protectiveness and deference to the elder's wisdom.
Finally, with a resigned sigh, she nodded. "Very well. Amara may join you."
A murmur rippled through the group. The Archon had conceded.
Elliot leaned toward Amiyan, whispering in awe, "Did… did she just win an argument with your mom?"
Amiyan nodded slowly, looking as astonished as Elliot felt. "I didn't think it was possible."
"I guess you're coming with us after all," Roshan added, grinning brightly.
Amara, hardly able to contain her excitement, turned to her grandmother.
"Thank you, Grandmother. I won't disappoint you."
Vaqal's expression softened. She reached out, gently brushing a strand of Amara's hair behind her ear.
"I know you won't, child. Just remember what your elders has taught you."
The Archon took a step closer to her son, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"You carry a piece of this realm with you, my child," she said softly.
"Let it guide you, even when the path grows dark."
Amiyan's face softened, a rare tenderness breaking through his usual confidence.
"Thank you, Mother. I'll honor our home wherever I go."
With a look of pride, the Archon placed a small crystal pendant in his hand, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly light.
"Keep this close. If ever you're lost, it will help you find your way."
Roshan practically bounced with excitement.
"With Amara and Amiyan both joining us, our group just got a major power-up!"
Wuxian chuckled, though he wore a thoughtful expression.
"We'll need it. Traveling the world isn't a light task."
Elder Vaqal watched them all, amusement flickering in her gaze.
She inclined her head toward the Archon, who returned the gesture with a sigh, an unspoken understanding passing between them.
Whatever journey lay ahead, it was clear that these young travelers would need each other—and the wisdom and skills each one of them carried.
_____________________
Meanwhile, in a distant land.
In the dim glow of lanterns, shadows danced on the rocky walls of the sealed cave.
The stale air was thick with tension, as the team of scholars and experts huddled around a small, pulsing crack in the very fabric of reality—a rift, shimmering like the edge of a blade.
It hadn't been there days before, but now its strange energy clawed at the senses, both mesmerizing and dreadful.
One of the scholars—a man with wild eyes and ink-stained hands—was muttering feverishly, his gaze fixed on a line from a crumbling, ancient tome he'd almost forgotten he held.
His voice trembled, breath shallow with excitement and terror.
"This… this is it!" he rasped, clutching the book tighter as if it might vanish. His words were like a spark in the tense silence.
"What do you mean?" another scholar demanded, leaning over with wide eyes.
"Did you figure out the cause?"
The scholar read the passage, eyes scanning each line with a quiet intensity.
His fingers traced the faded ink, lips moving silently as he absorbed each ancient word.
The flickering candlelight cast shadows over the yellowed pages, lending an almost otherworldly glow to the text.
Then he read loudly.
📜 At winter's waning, as the Wyrdtreow waketh,
With fair blostm bryht and leaf that breaketh,
Cometh also foul creatures fraught,
With hungor deop, to gnaw as they ought.
📜 From yon great beast, dark spawn doth creep,
Insects fēondlic that ne'er do sleep.
From wudu to bough they bītan and tēaran,
Eating the treowes flǣsc, beyond āberan.
📜These scūfan wights, fierce and fell,
Cling to the bēam, fremed in Hel.
With billian cēne, they tōberstan and hrīnan,
Fēdan, they feorh till dæglīcht's blīcan.
"What? It's just a poem about trees," one muttered in denial, but his voice wavered.
"No," another countered sharply, his eyes wide with realization.
"It's not a simple poem—it's a record of events. The Tree is the World, and those 'gluttonous beasts'...they're no mere animals."
The scholar paused, almost afraid to utter the next word.
"Beasts?"
He nodded, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"The beasts are metaphors. They're harbingers...eaters of worlds."
The others leaned in, eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
"You jest. This passage—where is it from?"
"The Legendarium," the scholar replied, his hand trembling over the lines in the ancient script.
"It's from *The Book of the End.*"
"The End?"
"The end of the Celestial Age."
A chill fell over the room, silence thickening as the words settled. Realization dawned on the faces around him, the pieces falling together with horrifying clarity.
One scholar let out a shaky breath, his voice barely a murmur. "But the Celestial Age...ended with the invasion of demons,"
"Gluttonous insects gnawed through the cracks of the *Tree's* bark", another one cited a passage from the book.
All heads turned to the crack that shimmered faintly in the air, the subtle, unnatural rift within the cave.
"Then...this crack—"