The creature lay motionless on the ground, but the tall man remained still for a few moments, observing it with piercing eyes. He held his spear firmly, as though expecting a sudden movement. The soft light of the three moons reflected off the dried blood staining the beast's fur. After a long pause, he stepped forward, nudging the creature's head with his foot, turning it to confirm. The monster was dead.
"Finally," he murmured, his voice deep and controlled.
He then approached Brana, lying unconscious near a fallen tree. The boy's breathing was irregular, his chest rising and falling in a jagged rhythm. The man knelt, quickly examining him. Small cuts and bruises were scattered across the boy's body, but what caught his attention was something far stranger: the wounds were disappearing, healing before his eyes.
Tilting his head in curiosity, he lightly touched one of the scratches on Brana's arm, which had already sealed. "Interesting..." he muttered, wondering whether it was an innate ability of the boy or connected to the benefits of Enkaryon's trial. Deciding it wasn't crucial at the moment, he stood.
"Time to find the other one," he said, adjusting the spear on his back. In one fluid motion, he hoisted Brana onto his shoulder, carrying him like a light bag. Then, gripping the dead creature by its leg, he began dragging it through the forest. The sound of the beast's massive body scraping against leaves and roots echoed softly as he walked deeper into the woods. His figure dissolved into the shadows until it disappeared completely.
Elsewhere in the forest, Luma crouched behind the trunk of a fallen tree, her knees pulled tightly against her chest. Time seemed to stretch endlessly since Brana had run off to distract the creature. Hugging herself tightly, her mind swirled with dark possibilities.
"Is he hurt? Is he alone? What if he..."
She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back tears. The cold forest air brushed her face, but she barely felt it. She was paralyzed by fear, unable to decide what to do. "If I go look for him, and he comes back and can't find me? But if he's hurt and needs me..."
Luma's thoughts spiraled, the weight of the unknown pressing as heavily as her desperate desire to help her brother. Her small body trembled, her breaths uneven.
"I'm so weak," she thought, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. "I should have helped... I should have..."
Before she could finish the thought, a distant noise caught her attention. It was faint at first but grew steadily louder—the sound of footsteps... and something being dragged.
Her heart raced uncontrollably. The forest seemed darker all of a sudden, as though the shadows were closing in around her. "If it's the creature... that means Brana... Brana..."
The thought that her brother might not be alive froze her in place for a moment. But then, something shifted inside her. Fear gave way to an irrational determination, burning like fire within her.
She stepped out from behind the tree trunk, her movements hesitant but resolute. Tears streamed down her face as she grabbed a large, jagged stone from the ground. If it was the creature, she wouldn't run. It didn't matter if she had no chance—she would fight.
The shadow drew closer, and she braced herself, raising the stone with trembling hands. When the figure finally emerged, Luma screamed, charging forward with everything she had.
"For Brana!" she cried, her voice breaking.
But as she got closer, she froze mid-step, her legs locking in place. It wasn't the creature. It was a tall man dragging the dead beast with unnerving ease. His skin was gray, almost silver under the moons' light, which cast shifting patterns of shadows through the trees. The leaves swayed gently in the wind, but the forest seemed to hold its breath, watching the scene in silence.
Luma's wide eyes darted between the man and the massive beast he dragged. But it was what he carried over his shoulder that made her gasp: Brana. Her brother hung limp, unconscious, his arms dangling like those of a rag doll.
The man stopped in front of her and gently lowered Brana to the ground, almost as if he were handling something fragile. Without hesitation, Luma ran to her brother, dropping to her knees beside him. Tears streamed freely down her face, mingling with the snot from her nose.
"Brana!" she sobbed, cradling his face in her small hands.
The man stood still for a moment, watching the scene. Something about Luma caught his attention. Just a moment ago, he had sensed an intense, bloodthirsty energy—almost tangible—and it had come from her. How could such a small child emit something so powerful? He frowned but dismissed the thought. There wasn't time to dwell on it.
"We need to leave," he said, his deep voice calm but firm.
Luma looked up at him, still crying. "Where are you taking him? What did you do to him?"
"I saved him," the man replied simply. "But the blood of the creature will attract other predators. We can't stay here."
"I'm not leaving him," Luma said defiantly, a spark of determination in her voice.
"I'm not asking you to," he countered with a shrug. "I'm telling you that if you want him to stay safe, you'll come with me."
Luma hesitated, torn between distrust and necessity. She clenched her fists, unwilling to trust a stranger. But when she looked at Brana's unconscious form, something inside her broke. She knew she had no choice.
She stood, wiping her tears on her sleeves. The man lifted Brana again and began walking. Luma followed closely, clutching her brother's arm as they moved through the forest.
The first thing Brana felt as he woke was a weight on his chest. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the flickering light. When his vision cleared, he realized the weight was Luma, clinging tightly to him, her face still swollen from crying.
Brana's heart ached. Seeing his sister in that state made something inside him hurt deeply. He didn't want her to have to endure this kind of pain.
"Luma," he whispered, trying to move without waking her.
After a few careful attempts, he managed to slip out of her grasp. Standing up, still a bit dizzy, he looked around. The place they were in was different from the clearing before. It seemed like a small, sheltered area surrounded by dense trees, with a campfire burning in the center. Near the fire sat the tall man on a fallen log, meticulously skinning the creature he had killed. His movements were precise and methodical.
Brana felt a chill as he watched him. The man's presence was imposing, but there was a calmness in his actions. Summoning his courage, Brana approached.
"Thank you," Brana said, his voice still hoarse. "For saving me and my sister."
The man paused, glancing at Brana with his one visible eye. A faint glimmer of curiosity crossed his face before he responded.
"It was nothing. Just on my way," he said, returning to his work.
"Even so... thank you," Brana insisted.
The man didn't reply immediately. After a moment, he said, "Your name?"
"Brana," he answered. "And she's Luma."
The man nodded, as though filing away the information. "I'm Kaldor," he replied, his voice firm but with a hint of gentleness hidden beneath his cold demeanor.
Brana felt there was more to this man than he let on. "Why did you help us?" he asked.
Kaldor stopped, looking at him again. "Because I know what it's like to be hunted. And because no one should face this world alone."
The answer took Brana by surprise. He nodded slowly, sensing that despite Kaldor's cold exterior, there was something trustworthy about him.
Kaldor turned his attention back to the creature, his skilled hands resuming their work. "How about we exchange information?" he suggested, his deep voice carrying a practical tone. "You tell me what you know about this place. In return, I'll share what I've learned so far."
Brana hesitated. He wasn't sure how much he should reveal to someone he barely knew, but he also realized any information could be invaluable in this strange world. And Kaldor had saved his and Luma's lives—the least he could do was cooperate.
"Alright," Brana said, sitting down near the fire but keeping a respectful distance from Kaldor. "I'll start."
Brana explained how he and Luma had been transported to this world. He described the crystals that had entered their bodies and the mission windows that had appeared. He detailed his attempt to connect with the crystal, mentioning the pulsing warmth he had felt and the vision of the crystal in his mind.
Kaldor listened intently, his expression impassive, but his eyes glimmered with interest. He didn't interrupt, letting Brana finish before leaning slightly forward.
"That fragment... it sounds a lot like something I carry as well," Kaldor said, pointing to the center of his chest. "I feel it—a constant presence, as if it's tied to my very being. But the color of mine is gray, and from what I can tell, it's linked to my world, Nielv. When the crystal entered me, I felt something... similar to what you described. But it was more than a sensation—it was a flow. Something alive. Since then, I've also been instructed to connect and shape the fragment."
Kaldor paused, reflecting on his words before continuing. "In Nielv, we have something called mana. It's not just a force; it's the foundation of everything. Mana flows through the air, the land, the creatures. Everything that lives in Nielv depends on it. It's not concentrated, like this fragment seems to be—it's universal. No matter where you are in Nielv, mana is there, sustaining the world's balance."
Brana tilted his head, intrigued. "So, you think the fragment is like mana?"
"Not exactly," Kaldor replied, shaking his head. "The fragment is... condensed. It's like an isolated piece of something much larger. In Nielv, mana is like the air we breathe; you don't need to seek it out—it's just there. The fragment, however, seems to demand that you conquer it, shape it with your own essence. That's a fundamental difference."
Brana frowned, trying to grasp the distinction. He felt Kaldor was describing something profound, something he didn't yet fully understand.
Kaldor gestured toward the creature's partially skinned body. "This creature is a clear example of how this world has changed. It's called a Ladron. In Nielv, they're common but dangerous. They're cunning predators and strong, but what I saw here was different. They're also under the conditions of the trial. The healing benefit you mentioned isn't exclusive to us—it applies to the creatures as well. That's why this Ladron was still so strong. I wounded it severely last night. It should have been down, but the healing of this place kept it active and dangerous."
Brana shivered. "If even the creatures have this benefit... does that mean they're part of the trial too?"
"Possibly," Kaldor said. "From what I can tell, this trial isn't just for us but for every living being brought here. It doesn't matter if you're human, elf, or beast—everyone is being tested in some way."
Brana glanced at the crystal in his chest, feeling the weight of the situation grow heavier. "What about your world? What was it like before all this happened?"
Kaldor paused for a long moment before responding, as if carefully choosing his words. He set down the knife he was using to dismantle the Ladron and fixed his gaze on the fire, where the flames danced in a slow, hypnotic rhythm.
"Nielv was... balanced," he began, his voice low but firm. "Mana was everything. It wasn't just a force; it was life itself. It flowed through every corner, sustaining all things. The air, the water, the land, the creatures—it was all permeated by it. Balance wasn't just necessary; it was inevitable."
Brana tilted his head, intrigued. "So mana is like electricity in my world? Something you use to make things work?"
Kaldor chuckled softly, but there was a mix of nostalgia and melancholy in his tone. "No, boy. Mana isn't something you use. It's something that exists. It's a part of everything, of us. You don't need to seek mana—it's already in you, around you. But that doesn't mean it's not dangerous."
He paused, his gaze fixed on the fire. "Creatures like the Ladron aren't uncommon in Nielv. They're a manifestation of mana's energy, but also of the chaos that can come with it. In our world, we learned to coexist with these threats, to use them to strengthen the balance. But it's also a place of beauty... and diversity."
"What do you mean?" Brana asked, his curiosity renewed.
"My world is home to many races. Humans, like you. Elves, with their natural affinity for mana. Dwarves, who shape the earth and metal with unparalleled skill. And... dark elves, like me. Each race has a different connection to mana. We, dark elves, learned to work in the shadows, to mold mana in ways others wouldn't dare to try. There are also dragons, ancient beings who are the pure embodiment of mana. Even smaller creatures, like forest spirits, play a vital role in maintaining the balance."
Brana remained silent, absorbing Kaldor's words. It felt like hearing a fantastical story, but he knew it was the man's reality.
"I lived in a small village hidden in the crystal mountains," Kaldor continued, his voice softening. "It was a quiet place, protected from the greater threats. Our village relied on mana for everything—from growing crops to hunting. But it wasn't without dangers. Balance was our strength, but also our vulnerability."
He averted his gaze, and Brana noticed something different in his expression: a trace of sadness. "If the fusion had happened sooner..." Kaldor murmured but didn't finish the sentence. He pressed his lips together and returned to working on the Ladron's carcass.
"Did you lose someone?" Brana asked cautiously.
Kaldor paused for a moment but didn't lift his gaze. "Loss is a constant in worlds like mine," he replied coldly. "But it's not something to carry forever. What matters now is the present and how we survive in this place."
Brana tried to shift the topic, sensing the weight of Kaldor's words. "My turn," he said, attempting to lighten the mood. "My world, Earth, is very different from yours. We don't have mana or magic. Everything we do depends on technology and science. We build machines for construction, transportation, even entertainment. It's a... normal world, I guess."
"Normal?" Kaldor repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Without mana, how do you survive?"
"In different ways," Brana explained. "Technology is like... a force we created ourselves. We use natural resources, like oil and electricity, to generate energy and build things. But we also have our own monsters. Not like the Ladron, but problems we create for ourselves."
"Interesting..." Kaldor murmured, thoughtful. "The absence of mana must make everything harder. Or perhaps just... different."
Kaldor fell silent for a moment, as if trying to imagine a world without mana. "It sounds... empty," he finally commented.
Brana shrugged. "It's what I know. It's not perfect, but it was our home."
The dark elf observed Brana for a moment before speaking again. "But something puzzles me. Your recovery..." He pointed at Brana. "When I found you, your wounds were closing before my eyes. That's... unusual."
Brana looked at his hands, thinking about the healing ability the crystal had granted him. "I think it's part of the trial. We were given a healing benefit for ten days, but I don't fully understand how it works."
Kaldor nodded slowly. "That makes sense. I've noticed the healing in myself as well, but I didn't think it was so... potent. Perhaps it's tied to the fragment."
Brana agreed but was suddenly struck by a thought. He looked at Kaldor, his brow furrowed. "Wait... how are you understanding me? I'm speaking Portuguese."
Kaldor stared at him, surprised. He tilted his head, as though analyzing the question. "I'm speaking the language of Nielv. But now that you mention it, that is strange. We're understanding each other perfectly."
The two fell silent for a moment, trying to make sense of it.
"Maybe it's the crystal," Brana suggested. "If we're connected to Enkaryon, maybe it's doing this for us—translating what we say."
Kaldor nodded thoughtfully. "It's possible. Or perhaps this world has its own rules, deeper than we can grasp now. Either way, it makes things easier. And for now, that's enough."
Brana nodded, but the thought lingered in his mind. There were so many things he didn't yet understand about this world, so many unanswered questions. But for now, he knew he had to keep moving. And with Kaldor by his side, perhaps he and Luma had a better chance of uncovering those answers.
Their conversation continued, the two exchanging information about their worlds and what they had learned about Enkaryon. Brana began to realize that, despite their differences, there was a mutual understanding between him and Kaldor. Both were survivors, trying to navigate a world determined to test them at every turn.
"If there's one thing I've learned in Nielv," Kaldor said, gazing at the fire, "it's that survival doesn't depend solely on strength but on adaptation. And that, boy, is something you seem to be learning quickly."
Brana gave a faint smile, feeling a spark of confidence grow within him. Even with the uncertainties, he felt that, with Kaldor by his side, he and Luma had a better chance of facing whatever lay ahead.