Clack— Clack—
Inside the moving carriage, Taron's enthusiasm remained undeterred, his voice filling the small space as he dramatically unveiled yet another item from his seemingly bottomless bag.
"And this! The Legendary Compass!" he announced, holding up a rusted, dented compass like it was a priceless artifact.
Ace flicked his tail, unimpressed. "Legendary? Looks like it belongs in a trash heap."
Taron waved a hand. "Oh, but this one is special! It guides you to your destiny—though, uh…" He coughed. "It only works half the time. But when it does, it's amazing!"
Arlon glanced at the shimmering narrator screen at the edge of his vision.
Flutter—
["This compass has never worked properly. My boss probably gave it to me just to get rid of it. But hey, if they believe it's legendary, I can finally unload it!"]
So even he knows it's useless. Arlon resisted the urge to sigh. He's selling junk and hoping we'll fall for it.
Undeterred, Taron tucked the compass away and eagerly retrieved another item—a small glass vial filled with glittering liquid. "Behold! The Elixir of Eternal Energy!"
Lawrence raised a skeptical brow. "Eternal energy?"
Taron nodded enthusiastically. "One sip, and you'll feel rejuvenated for hours!"
The narrator screen flickered again.
Flutter—
["It's just flavored water with glitter in it. But they don't need to know that. Maybe if I sell it with enough confidence, they'll buy it!"]
Arlon's lips twitched in disbelief. This is getting ridiculous.
Ace, perched on Arlon's shoulder, scoffed. "This guy's a walking scam. How is he still alive?"
"Luck," Arlon answered dryly in his mind.
Before Taron could present his next "treasure," the carriage jolted slightly, slowing its pace. Dimitri glanced out the window before turning to Arlon.
"My lord, there's a clearing by the river up ahead. A good place to rest and let the horses recover."
Arlon gave a faint nod. "We'll stop there."
Clack— Clack-
The carriage rolled to a gentle stop, and the group disembarked, greeted by the crisp scent of damp earth and the distant sound of rushing water. The river wound lazily through the forest, its surface catching glimmers of light through the trees.
The horses were unhitched, drinking from the cool water as the group stretched their legs. Lawrence wandered toward the riverbank, his boots sinking slightly into the soft grass. Ace hopped down from Arlon's shoulder, stretching before lazily following.
Taron fidgeted with his bag, muttering under his breath as he adjusted his so-called "merchandise."
Arlon stepped toward the river, letting his gaze drift over the serene landscape. But just as he turned his head, he caught Taron suddenly freezing in place.
"...?"
The merchant's face had gone stiff, his eyes locked onto something in the distance.
"What is it?" Arlon asked, his voice calm but firm.
Taron swallowed, raising a trembling hand to point past the treeline. "Th-There! Do you see that?"
Lawrence followed his line of sight, frowning. "What is he talking about?"
At first, Arlon saw nothing but dense greenery. But then, just beyond the trees, something gleamed under the sunlight.
A tall, white pillar stood at the heart of a cascading waterfall, untouched by the relentless force of the rushing water. Mist curled around its base as the waterfall roared, yet the pillar remained untouched—unweathered, unreal.
Lawrence narrowed his eyes. "That... doesn't look natural."
Dimitri stepped closer, observing the ancient structure. "It doesn't belong in this forest."
Ace, perched on a nearby rock, flicked his tail. "Great. Another mystery."
Taron stepped forward, staring in awe. "I never thought I'd actually see it."
Lawrence glanced at him. "You know what this is?"
Taron turned to them, his voice hushed. "You don't? This is the Pillar of Aries—also called the Pillar of the Falling Star."
The name stirred something in Arlon's memory. Pillar of the Falling Star… The phrase echoed in his mind, tugging at a distant thought. Could this be connected to the Record of the Sky? The book that vanished before he could fully decipher its meaning?
Dimitri spoke next, his tone thoughtful. "This pillar is said to have come from the falling star of Aries. The first constellation humans ever discovered. When Aries fell, its remaining stars disappeared."
Arlon's eyes sharpened. "Not fell—disappeared?"
Taron nodded. "In ancient times, there were 88 constellations. Aries was the first. They say when it fell, its four stars turned into pillars—hidden from sight, nearly impossible to find."
Lawrence crossed his arms. "A fallen star turns into a pillar, and its constellation vanishes? Sounds more like a legend."
Taron scoffed. "Legend or not, it's real. Look at it. Myths don't leave behind proof."
"..."
Arlon didn't speak. His gaze was locked onto the carvings spiraling along the pillar's surface. The patterns shimmered—faint, shifting, resisting comprehension.
These symbols… they're not just inscriptions. They're moving.
His mind flashed back to the book. The texts he failed to translate. The ancient script that refused to be understood.
I still need to finish translating those passages, Arlon thought, but at this rate… I might have to learn the rest firsthand.
Ace let out a huff. "Let's assume the legend is true. What's the point of this pillar? What is it supposed to do?"
Dimitri's expression darkened slightly. "It shouldn't be here. The Pillar of Aries was said to have vanished after it first descended into this world. Yet here it stands."
Lawrence took a step closer, eyes locked onto the shifting carvings. "If Aries fell… then where are the others? What happened to the rest of the constellations?"
Arlon's voice cut through the air. "Were they hidden… or erased?"
Taron flinched. His fingers twitched as if he were fighting the urge to step back. "If the others are out there… someone might already be looking for them."
Silence hung in the air, thick and heavy.
A chill crept down Arlon's spine. The pillars. The constellations. Someone was hunting them. And they weren't the only ones searching.
The river murmured softly, an eerie contrast to the unshakable tension now lingering in the air. The towering pillar stood as a silent witness, watching. Waiting.
Their journey to the Empire was far from over. But something told Arlon—this was only the beginning.
The gentle rush of the river filled the silence, but it did little to ease the weight pressing down on them.
Arlon's gaze lingered on the towering pillar, his thoughts twisting into a tangled web of unease. If the Celestia Clan knew about this… His jaw tightened slightly. They had their own agenda, their own relentless pursuit of power. He didn't need them meddling in his affairs.
Nearby, Dimitri, ever composed, set out a modest spread of food. A fresh pot of tea soon sat before them, thin wisps of steam curling into the air. Arlon wrapped his hands around the warm cup, but his thoughts remained elsewhere.
This moment of peace felt temporary. Fleeting. And there was something—something nagging at him—that he could no longer ignore.
"Taron." Arlon's voice broke the quiet, cutting through the distant murmur of the river. "There's something I need to ask you."
Taron, mid-sip, glanced at him. His usual easygoing demeanor flickered with caution. "Go ahead."
Arlon reached into his coat pocket, retrieving the small red stone he had kept since finding it among Taron's belongings. He held it between his fingers, letting the sunlight catch the deep crimson hue.
Taron froze.
Thud-
The cup slipped from his hands, hitting the ground with a soft thud, tea spilling into the dirt. His face drained of color, his breath hitching.
Lawrence, who had been idly sipping his own tea, straightened at the sudden shift in the air.
Ace, lounging lazily moments ago, flicked his ears in alertness, his tail bristling slightly.
"How—" Taron's voice cracked, raw with something between fear and disbelief. "How did you get that?!"
Arlon studied him, unreadable. "I found it in your things when we rescued you." His tone was measured, calm, but his grip on the stone tightened slightly. "I wasn't sure what it was, so I held onto it."
He turned the stone between his fingers before raising it so the others could see. "I've been wondering what exactly it is."
Taron lurched forward, hands trembling as he yanked a cloth from his pack and hastily wrapped the stone. His fingers were tight, white-knuckled around the bundle. "You shouldn't be touching that!" he hissed. "You have no idea what you're dealing with!"
Arlon didn't flinch. "Then explain."
Taron swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe. His hands still trembled, but he leaned back, jaw clenched as he fought to compose himself.
Finally, he exhaled. When he spoke, his voice was quieter, heavier.
"There are two kinds of stones in this world," Taron began. "Mana Stones—common, used by mages to enhance magic." He hesitated, eyes flicking to the cloth-wrapped bundle in his hands. "And then there's the other one."
Arlon waited. "The rare one."
Taron nodded stiffly. "The Cursed Stone."
A ripple of tension passed through the carriage, unspoken but heavy.