The sounds were faint and hoarse when they came out, which made Monare cringe a little since he wanted to muffle his ears, but something was wrong. The sounds felt different for a minute, making Monare feel exhausted and tranquil, while his pace reduced somewhat, causing his momentum to slow and steady.
"Wake up kid, you got caught in a siren"
Monare's eyes flared blue, brighter than usual. He used {Drenched sprint} again, but he was still sweating and wet. His breath was hoarse, and he was exhaling more air. The price of power can often have bodily ramifications for the attached human; tiredness remained a problem, and Monare's wet clothes were nearly dry due to his speed and heat generated by the run.
He had to rely on his sweat; soaked sprint was an active skill with a three-minute time limit. The creature, which was nothing more than a cluster of flesh with many legs, was a little farther away from the forest but still visible from a distance.
Monare didn't need to chase after it and might have returned to Asterios' house. When he focused his gaze on the ground, he noticed a network of blue tributaries similar to those found in streams, lakes and rivers. They led to where the thing was going; Monare took a breath and dashed at it.
After a while, Monare raced into a clearing in the forest, where there was a giant rock with an average height of 6 feet and a hole the same size as the rock's height. Monare was almost on his knees as he stood there collecting his breath and attempting to compose himself. He needed to remain calm and composed as he discovered the first clue to the treasure his father buried.
His adopted father was a man who loved knowledge, even in the smallest of things, as he would always say:
"Is never the size that matters, it was how something can be utilized even with its flaws"
Monare wondered if his father had been told something harsh about his size, as he was shorter than the normal guy. hahaha I would chuckle a little later, when I was thirteen and discovered a nasty joke in one of his books.
One of the numerous books he did not allow me to read was Jakob Calendar's The Secrets of Spirit Origin. The book related the account of an underground well in Onskeard where individuals blessed with the eye of the foreseen, or spirit vision, may see a channel of energy that runs through the city's earth.
However, the book never stated where Monare could find the channels. Now that he had discovered the secret to the well, he should have been excited, but he was too tired.
His body felt light and spent; he wanted to collapse on the ground, but he needed to concentrate. There was a monster in that cave, and he couldn't let his guard down, so he closed his fists and controlled his breathing.
His unclosed fist began to shine with faint blue light; he then paused his controlled breathing and extended his hands. Monare generated five ice crystals with the modest amount of sweat on his palm.
He then swallowed the crystals and closed his mouth, thinking on a single phrase in his thoughts while his eyes pulsed with blue light, changing their color. As he repeated the word, he exhaled massive volumes of air through his mouth without opening it wide, his gaze fixed on the cave.
Monare then took a giant step forward, releasing a shower of blue mist laced with cold flakes as it surged toward the cave. Monare was attempting to freeze the entrance with the movement of his head, guiding the mist toward the edges of the cave, while praying that his idea would work well enough to buy him time for tonight.
He suspected the creature was nocturnal and used its abilities to mimic sounds to lure victims. Monare, with the cave as its home, wanted to see if it could trick it. It was a little chilly, possibly from the cold air he was blowing to block off the escape and trick it into thinking it was hibernating.
Monare hoped his plan would succeed after half an hour of blowing chilly air. He was able to produce ice crystals to shut off sections of the cave; it was totally sealed off, and he hoped it wouldn't return today while everyone was sleeping.
Oh, he hoped. Monare collapsed to the ground, exhaling heavily, exhausted.
All he wanted to do was lie down and sleep, but that was not an option just now. He rested for a few minutes before standing up and heading into the woods.
He walked for a while and ran intermittently to cover ground and make up time before Master and his family arrived. He completed his responsibilities and will accept punishment with a leash tomorrow.
That is the cost of an act; you can never convey what worries you until the performance is ended.
Monare arrived at the residence just in time; they hadn't returned. Before he entered his backroom, he scooped up some water with his hands and slapped it on his face to improve his exile's condition and which gave him enough energy to reach his room.
He arrived without incident and collapsed on the floor mat, weary and breathing slowly while sleeping soundly.
Asterios, his family, and bodyguard Quinn arrived at the residence around 20 o'clock. Quinn opened the unlocked door and discovered Monare asleep; he considered lecturing him for sleeping on the job, but Hera, Flora, and Asterios advised him to leave him alone.
The youngster appeared exhausted, so Quinn accepted their proposal and shut the door slowly. Asterios proceeded to the main house with his family, where they slept, as did Quinn.
***
At midnight, a man walked through the forest barefoot, wearing a dark ragged robe and carrying a cane etched with distinctive patterns. They arrived at the cave and were surprised to see it sealed up with ice; they smiled, their teeth visible as they glimmered in the night sky.
The strange guy touched the ice with his worn-out bony hand, which appeared to be depleted of vitality; he began by whispering some strange phrases, which appear to change the ice as it hardens and becomes transparent enough to view what is inside the cave.
The flesh creature had shrunk into a human head, with one right eye, a hand emerging from the left eye socket, two sets of legs emerging from the neck area, and lastly a triangular horn on the top of the head.
The individual removed his hood, making his face transparent and clear in the reflected ice. He had the same face as the human head, but with a long nose and a mole. His eyes were brilliant crimson; he sighed and said:
"Someone trapped you here before you could fully replicate a human. You are invisible to the typical human eye, but not to a person who is gifted like me here."
He coughed violently, closing the cough with his fist. The monster that was a human head just moments earlier transformed into a ball of flesh in the shape of a dog with sorrowful eyes.
The man smiled and continued:
"I'm fine, my pet; soon we'll be fine. Now I have to discover the chained individual who did this; they may put a stop to my plans in the future if they seal you down again."
As the man moved out into the woods, the ice began to trickle slowly. It was melting.