Whosssh…!
The wild wind swept down from the valley, twisting and swirling between the rocks that formed the path to the Wind Shrine.
But this wind was no ordinary breeze.
It carried the whispers of the past.
Within the gusts, soft murmurs echoed like the voices of souls trapped in the currents of time, narrating forgotten tales of long-lost wizards and ancient powers—a historical tapestry woven from the threads of countless adventures. Each note, reminiscent of a handful of morning dew, held profound meaning that deeply touched the souls of Fitran and Rinoa with a compelling curiosity.
Fitran and Rinoa stood at the edge of a rocky hill. Before them, amid the imperfect shadows of the morning, stood the Wind Shrine.
The structure was simple, merely a formation of stones shaped into a T, supported by side pillars and surrounded by small rocks.
Yet behind its simplicity, the shrine was very much alive.
From within, a soft light flickered, sparkling like trapped stars caught in a cosmic dance. Each ray danced in rhythm with the wind, creating an enchanting illusion of movement that captured the imagination. Rinoa sensed a magical vibration in the air, a palpable energy, as if the shrine harbored thousands of secrets waiting to be unveiled, each one whispering the promise of ancient knowledge.
This space is a memory.
Ancient carvings tell the story of air magic and healing arts that have long since faded away.
Above the carvings, delicate silhouettes emerged like shadows of sorcerers uttering incantations. Rinoa, captivated, felt a connection to those who once stood in this place, striving to maintain nature's balance. "What did they feel in moments like these?" she wondered, her thoughts suspended in time.
Below, ancient corridors of wind swirl, creating an unending storm—the entrance to the secrets of the Stones. Amidst the cold gusts of air, a rumble resembling whispers from an ancient age echoes, as if old tales are awakening from their long slumber.
"What do you think?" Fitran asks.
His voice nearly drowned by the wind's breath. His keen eyes scrutinize every detail around him, capturing the shimmering light that appears intermittently before vanishing like mist.
Rinoa nods slowly.
"Its power... is astonishing. I'm not sure I can fathom all its possibilities." She felt a force flowing within her, permeating like magic filling an empty space. Her voice quivered, blending with the roar of the wind steeped in mystery.
Fitran gazed into the wind-swept corridors that looked like giant mouths ready to devour anyone who dared approach.
Yet, a deep desire stirred within him to move forward, despite his awareness of the lurking risks. The strange, pungent aroma heightened the atmosphere, creating a tension that was impossible to ignore and evoking memories of past battles fought in similar circumstances, filling him with resolve.
He took a deep breath.
"Your knowledge of fluids surpasses mine." Fitran's voice trembled as if it were connected to the dark energies flowing through the corridor, as if he could sense the philosophical shifts in every current of air.
Rinoa managed a faint smile, one that conveyed both encouragement and trepidation, as the wind howled around them, amplifying the moment's weight.
However, worry flickered in her eyes. In Rinoa's gaze, a shadow loomed, causing her to hesitate; the mystical aura surrounding them thickened, silently bearing witness to the events that had transpired.
"Ideal fluids," she murmured.
"Is that even possible?"
For her, this was not merely a test of magic or physics.
This was a quest—a drive to comprehend what even the gods hesitated to explain.
The wind whispered softly, seemingly responding to their unease, carrying whispers from other dimensions. A gentle, dim light adorned the corridor, creating an illusion that they were standing on the brink of a different reality.
Fitran nodded.
His body had weakened since the battle against the golems at the Great Gate.
He could no longer fully wield his magic or manipulate the quantum spectrum that had once been his ally.
Despite his diminished powers, Fitran felt the magical energy vibrating in the air, both inviting and intimidating at the same time. The silent sounds around them flowed like a melody conveying messages from an invisible world.
But Rinoa was still able.
She would guide them through the transitional boundary—the phase from laminar flow to turbulent flow in the corridor of wind.
As Rinoa gathered her strength, a purple light shimmered around her hands, emitting a mysterious aura that Fitran could sense—a tangible manifestation of her growing power and determination. He was touched by Rinoa's spirit, igniting a glimmer of hope in his heart that they might overcome this daunting challenge together.
"If we fail, our bodies could shatter into pieces," murmured Fitran.
"If we don't try, we'll lose our last chance," Rinoa replied.
Her voice was unwavering.
Before them, the corridor of wind gaped open.
Its diameter was five meters, narrowing at the end.
The swirling wind possessed a soul of its own, with echoes of surreal voices floating in their ears, simultaneously guiding, inviting, and warning them of the dangers that lurked beyond the threshold.
The swirling wind seemed to have a soul of its own. Echoes of unreal voices floated in their ears, simultaneously guiding, inviting, and warning them.
"If we succeed... can we still be together?" Rinoa whispered.
A beam of shimmering light burst forth from the tunnel, creating dancing patterns in the air, making their faces glow with a mysterious and magical hue.
Fitran did not respond.
He simply clenched his hands tightly.
In his heart, he felt the weight of responsibility—not just for himself, but also for Rinoa. Everything felt steep and overwhelming, yet their desire to explore never faded.
Whosssh...!
They jumped in.
Inside the wind tunnel, the world became sound and pressure. Their bodies shot forward like arrows.
Around them, flickering shadows seemed to remind them of past experiences filled with adventures and painful decisions.
Rinoa, as the navigator, monitored the changes in speed and pressure every second. But the storm was wilder than anticipated.
The narrow hole was rapidly closing in, a fierce reminder of the urgency they faced!
Fitran and Rinoa were pulled inside.
Whosssh...!
Their bodies split apart.
Fitran crashed against the tunnel wall. His body spun uncontrollably.
A light at the end of the corridor.
A mysterious voice whispered in his ear—or perhaps it was a distant memory.
"It's okay, my princess..."
As his body neared destruction, his magical strength surged back for a moment. He flung himself toward Rinoa, who had been thrown into a larger space.
Blegar!
They crashed onto the hard stone floor.
Rinoa opened her eyes. The sunlight dazzled her vision.
"Fitran!"
She hugged him tightly. Fitran's body trembled but he was still alive. They both had survived.
Between them, a beam of light seemed to convey a message from a higher realm. The air around them vibrated gently, reminiscent of whispers from ancient, unspoken powers.
"What happened?" Rinoa asked, her eyes filled with fear and renewal. "Are we still trapped in that storm?"
Fitran tried to smile, though his body still felt heavy. "I think we have transcended the boundaries of this ordinary world. Something greater awaits us."
However, nearby, a shadow rolled between the lights, as if waiting for the right moment to reveal its hidden secrets. The atmosphere grew increasingly mysterious, as if eyes were watching from deeper darkness.
Before them, Wind Shrine stood.
But now, the shrine was no longer just a stone structure.
It had become a gateway of legacy.
A large, withered tree stood near the shrine, seemingly guarding the secrets contained within. Its leaves trembled gently, even without wind. The rustling sound gave the impression that nature was speaking, inviting them to come closer.
After ensuring Fitran could stand, they stepped toward the shrine.
Fitran felt a magical barrier pulsating around him, a protective force that resisted entry.
His body resisted entry.
Thin blue smoke lingered around, seeming to envelop the ripples of time and space inside the shrine. Upon closer inspection, tiny lights twinkled like stars striving to merge with the night sky. Rinoa swallowed hard, sensing the rising tension.
"I'll wait here," she said.
Rinoa, the heir of the Alfrenzo family, stepped cautiously into the stone circle, aware that each of her steps was accompanied by an invisible rumble, amplifying the awe and dread swirling in her heart.
In the center altar, she discovered an ancient manuscript.
Hieroglyphic symbols depicted three ancient healing methods:
Physicians — the healers.
Surgeons — the specialists of surgery.
Sorcerers — the exorcists and manipulators of magical energy.
On the stone table, the figure of a king from the Earth race was portrayed not as a victim, but as a recipient of healing from these three experts.
Beside him, the figure of the bird Ra symbolized life extended by wisdom, not power.
Rinoa paused for a moment, captivated by the symbols that filled the space at the altar. The longer she gazed, the more other images emerged in her mind, making her feel connected to the thousands of years of knowledge buried within.
Suddenly, the symbols on the altar began to tremble.
Glint!
A Canopic Jar appeared. Adorned with the four heads of goddesses: Isis, Nephthys, Selket, and Neith.
As Rinoa touched it, a burst of golden light erupted.
The world spun.
She was pulled into a starry dimension.
A magical silence enveloped the space around her, with only the soft whistle of the wind carrying the scent of ancient spices and the essence of rare flowers. The outpouring of golden light created wild shadows that danced on the walls of the dimension, as if depicting forgotten tales from ancient times.
In that place, ancient symbols flowed into her body.
Left hand: Amentet — Goddess of Death.
Right hand: Isis — Goddess of Magic and Life.
As the symbols gently seeped in, a soft rumble began to fill the air, like the voices of souls trapped within those signs, calling Rinoa to embrace the power that had long slumbered.
Ancient Medical Magic awakened within her:
healing magic capable of curing ailments, summoning spirits, and controlling death.
The soft whisper startled Rinoa, "Seize and master it, bring life back!" as if the world was promising to grant power to the bold. The light surrounding her vibrated, revealing her hidden potential.
Upon returning to the real world, her hands began to shine.
Fitran quickly covered the symbol.
"Don't show it carelessly. It's a secret of the ten Ancient Magic."
Fitran lowered his head.
"Only the child of Lost History can wield that magic."
Rinoa fell silent.
She understood Fitran's meaning. They were both descendants of the erased history, blood deemed a curse by the world.
"I gave you that magic... because I was worried. Only we can bear this curse."
Rinoa clenched her hands.
"And I will bear it with you."
For the first time, they did not feel like a curse. But like hope.
They descended the long stone staircase. Beside them, a waterfall from the underground river rushed fiercely. Water vapor filled the corridor they had just passed through.
Down there... the Center Stones awaited.
In the silence, the sound of the waterfall became a melody that soothed the soul. Each drop of water seemed to narrate ancient, forgotten tales, creating a magical atmosphere that resonated deeper within their hearts. The spirit of magic began to fill the air, inviting long-buried memories of power to awaken within them.
But before they could take another step—
Whummmm...!
Behind them, the remaining Golem Stones began to stir again.
But they were not attacking.
They knelt.
It was as if a shift of pure magical energy coursed through every corner of the room, creating an astonishing aura of peace that enveloped them. Rinoa and Fitran felt the vibration, recognizing that they had become woven into a destiny greater than themselves, one that tied their fates to the very fabric of their world.
It was as if a shift of pure magical energy seeped into every corner of the room, creating an astonishing aura of peace. Rinoa and Fitran felt the vibration, as if they had been woven into a destiny greater than themselves.
The mechanical voice of Varnax sounded, softly but clearly:
"The answer has been received.
We... are no longer judges.
We are the guardians of the path you have opened."
All around them, magical lights sparkled in a mesmerizing dance, creating an unpredictable rhythm that felt alive, while the scent of damp earth mingled with that of enchanted flowers blooming only in sacred places, infusing the atmosphere with a mystical touch. Echoes of unseen voices resonated, as if the universe itself bore witness to this monumental event.
With a new harmony,
embracing the ancient magic that had now become part of them,
Fitran and Rinoa stepped forward.
The soft sound of flowing water from a nearby waterfall instilled tranquility, each drop seemingly whispering ancient messages of power and rebirth. A faint shadow flitted among the trees, hinting at the secrets they were destined to uncover.
Toward the place where Gamma's secrets,
Center Stones,
and the fate of the world
As their steps grew more confident, the glow from the Center Stones began to shine brighter, bringing forth new hope and the revival of the past. A palpable tension lingered among them, while a grand sound in the distance signaled that many souls had been waiting for this moment. They felt the vibrations of the earth, as if the world recognized their presence and was ready to provide answers to long-unanswered questions.
The winds at the Wind Shrine whisper:
"Those who understand the wounds of the past... are those who are worthy to choose the future."