Dawn painted the eastern sky with streaks of orange and pale purple as Richard and Elyndra moved away from the violated refuge. The fresh morning air was a deceptive relief; Richard knew the desert sun would soon turn the sand into a merciless furnace. Each step raised a small cloud of fine dust that clung to their clothes and skin. The silence between them was heavy, laden with the residual adrenaline of battle and the uncertainty of the path ahead.
Elyndra leaned heavily on Richard. Although the spear of light she had conjured had been decisive, the effort had left her visibly exhausted, paler and more fragile than ever. Her breathing was shallow, and Richard could feel slight tremors running through her body whenever the terrain became uneven. The dynamic between them had completely reversed. He was no longer the inexperienced protégé following the mysterious guardian; now, he was the support, the shield, the one setting the cautious pace through the undulating dunes.
"Are you sure you can continue?" Richard asked for the third time that morning, his voice low and tinged with concern.
Elyndra nodded without looking at him, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon where the mountains were just beginning to hint at themselves as a dark, jagged line. "We have no choice, Richard. Staying is death. Moving forward... moving forward is a possibility." Her voice was a hoarse whisper, but the determination in it was unmistakable.
Richard contemplated the Guardian's Seal hanging from his neck. Since he had obtained it through the ritual of blood and knowledge, the object had been more than an ornament – it was a constant source of power and clarity. He held it between his fingers, letting its energy give him strength for the journey ahead.
The first days were a brutal test of endurance. The sun rose relentlessly, hitting them with a heat that seemed to evaporate thought. The landscape was a desolate monotony of sand and rock, dunes stretching as far as the eye could see, slowly changing with the relentless wind. Richard rationed the water carefully, offering Elyndra most of it, while he himself endured the growing thirst. He used "Echo Vision" intermittently, not seeking enemies, but traces of moisture, patterns in the rock that might indicate underground water, any sign of life in that wasteland. At first, he only saw desolation reflected in the weak lines of residual energy, echoes of heat and wind.
At night, the cold descended quickly, biting and deep. They lit small fires with the sparse dry brush they found, huddling close to conserve heat. Richard stood guard while Elyndra rested, her body wrapped in blankets. On those silent nights, under a canopy of incredibly bright and alien stars, Richard practiced.
He didn't dare spend too much mana, but he explored the limits of his new 25-unit reserve. He concentrated on the "Wind Shield," trying to maintain it with less effort, make it denser, more resistant. He discovered that by visualizing the air spinning in specific patterns, he could slightly reduce mana consumption. He also experimented with offensive gusts, trying to create more precise, faster currents. They were small, incremental advances born of necessity and silent concentration.
During one of those nights, as Richard tried to mold a small current of air to fan the embers without using his hands, Elyndra spoke from her makeshift bed. "The temple we're going to... the ancients called it 'Kor-Valar,' the Temple of the Whispering Peaks."
Richard stopped his practice and turned toward her. "Whispering Peaks?"
"Yes," continued Elyndra, her voice a little stronger in the nighttime stillness. "It's said to be built at a nexus of air currents, where the winds of the mountains converge. Sylvan legends said the temple itself whispers warnings and truths to those who know how to listen. But it can also use those winds to create illusions, to confuse the mind and test the will. It's not a place conquered by brute force alone."
"Illusions? Like the ones you created to train me?" asked Richard.
"Much more powerful. More real," replied Elyndra. "The temple plays with your senses, with your fears. You must trust your instinct, Richard, but also question what you see and hear. Perception will be your greatest weapon and your greatest weakness there."
Richard reflected on this, remembering the texts he had read in the hidden refuge days ago. "Is there a connection between this temple and the Book of Ur-Kigal?" he asked, recalling the original mission the system had assigned him weeks ago, before all this.
Elyndra looked at him with an expression that mixed surprise and caution. "The Book of Ur-Kigal... I haven't heard that name in a long time. It's more than a book, Richard. It's a compendium of ancient knowledge, a key to understanding the places where the veil between worlds is thinnest."
"And it's in this temple?"
"Not exactly. The physical book disappeared millennia ago. But fragments of its knowledge were scattered across the seven main temples. The fragment you already have contains part of that knowledge. The one we seek now will reveal another aspect."
The conversation drifted to the nature of magic. Elyndra explained that, while Richard's system provided him structured access to mana, true magic, as practiced by the Sylvans, involved a deeper connection with the natural energies of the world, a harmony that required years of study and meditation. "Your system is a powerful tool, a shortcut perhaps," she said, "but don't forget to feel the world around you. Air, earth, water... they all have their own energy, their own voice."
Richard took the Vision Scroll from his backpack, studying it in the firelight. The blank surface glowed softly, not yet revealing its secrets. "When will I know what it contains?" he asked.
"The Scroll will reveal its knowledge when the time is right," Elyndra replied. "Sometimes, in the face of imminent danger. Other times, when a truth must be recognized. It's not an object you can force, Richard. It's a witness, a guardian of history that chooses when to speak."
On the fourth day, the sky darkened ominously from the west. A wall of dust and sand rose on the horizon, advancing toward them with terrifying speed. A sandstorm.
"Quick, find cover!" shouted Richard, helping Elyndra move toward a small rock formation that offered minimal protection.
The wind howled, and the sand struck with the force of sandpaper. Visibility was reduced to zero. Richard positioned himself in front of Elyndra, activating the "Wind Shield." He expanded it as much as he could, creating a protective bubble around them. The impact of sand and small pebbles against the barrier was a constant roar. He could feel his mana draining rapidly, the imaginary bar in his mind descending: 20... 15... 10...
"Richard, don't keep it so large!" shouted Elyndra over the din. "Make it smaller, denser! Just enough for the two of us! Feel the flow of the storm, don't fight it directly, deflect it!"
Following her advice, Richard reduced the size of the shield, concentrating the energy on a more compact barrier right in front of them. He visualized the air deflecting the worst gusts, channeling the storm's energy around them instead of trying to stop it completely. Mana consumption slowed, though it was still considerable. 5... 4... 3...
The storm lasted what seemed like an eternity. When finally the wind subsided and the sand began to settle, Richard deactivated the shield just before his mana was completely depleted. He fell to his knees, gasping, covered in a fine layer of dust. Elyndra was also covered, but unharmed. They had survived, but his mana reserve was empty, leaving him vulnerable. The slow regeneration the system provided seemed agonizingly insufficient.
"You used the Seal correctly," observed Elyndra, brushing her fingers over the amulet hanging from Richard's neck. "The way you channeled the energy... it was almost instinctual. The lineage is strengthening in you."
Richard nodded, too exhausted to speak. The Guardian's Seal had vibrated strongly throughout the battle against the storm, as if adding its energy to his own. He felt a deeper connection with the artifact after each use.
The storm had altered the landscape and, worse still, had overturned one of their last water skins. They were now dangerously low on supplies. Tension increased in the days that followed. Thirst became a constant companion, dry throats, cracked lips. Richard pushed his "Echo Vision" to the limit, constantly scanning the terrain, desperately seeking any trace of moisture.
Finally, his perseverance bore fruit. He detected a faint line of energy snaking beneath a rocky overhang. Upon investigation, they found a small crack from which water slowly dripped, forming a tiny, muddy puddle at the base. It wasn't much, but it was life. They spent hours collecting the water drop by drop, filtering it through a piece of cloth. The relief was immense, but the incident underscored the precariousness of their situation.
It was two days later, while crossing an area of low rocky hills that announced the proximity of the mountains, when they found the ruins. They weren't large, just the eroded foundations of a few buildings and a solitary monolith, half-buried in the sand, covered with engravings almost erased by centuries of wind and sand.
Richard felt a strange attraction to the monolith. He approached, running his fingers over the worn grooves. He activated "Echo Vision," but the residual energy was ancient, weak, almost indecipherable. Then he remembered the other passive skill the system had registered: "Inscription Comprehension." He focused on the symbols, not trying to read them logically, but letting his intuition guide his perception.
He didn't get clear words, but impressions, feelings, fragmented images: a path that forked, a voice that whispered deceptions in the wind, a warning about "echoes that lie" and "shadows that imitate truth." He felt a sense of loss, of a forgotten civilization that had fought against some kind of deception.
"What do you see?" asked Elyndra, who had approached silently.
Richard described the confusing impressions. Elyndra examined the engravings and the eroded architecture. "This is ancient," she murmured. "Older than the Sylvans. Perhaps from the First Ones, those who existed before the Veil was formed. Legends say they were masters of mind and illusion." The connection with the warnings about the Temple of the Whispering Peaks didn't go unnoticed by either of them.
As they continued, the landscape began to change dramatically. The sand gave way to stony ground, then to slopes covered with dry grass, and finally to the rocky foothills of the mountains. The air became colder, thinner, and Richard felt a different energy, wilder and more primeval. Elyndra seemed to revitalize slightly in this new environment, her steps a little firmer, color returning faintly to her cheeks. "The energy of the mountains," she explained. "It's closer to the natural magic I know."
Richard also felt the difference. His affinity with air seemed to resonate with the environment. He practiced creating small controlled gusts to clear the path of loose stones or to test the wind direction in narrow canyons. He even tried forming thin, sharp blades of air, though they were still unstable and dissipated quickly. He felt his control improving, his understanding of mana and his connection with the wind deepening.
One afternoon, while looking for a place to camp, Richard detected something with "Echo Vision." These weren't the natural energies of the mountain, but the unmistakable residue of recently used technology and mana. Following the traces, they found a small camp hastily abandoned: remains of high-tech rations, a discharged energy battery, and, most disturbingly, faint traces of tactical boot prints heading toward the mountains.
"The organization," said Richard, his voice tense. "They were here. And not long ago."
"They knew about the temple," affirmed Elyndra, her expression hardening. "Either they followed you, or they have their own sources of information. This complicates things."
The urgency intensified. They were no longer just racing against time and the elements, but also against an enemy that was one step ahead. They increased their pace, pushing themselves despite the fatigue and the increasing altitude.
Finally, after another day of arduous climbing, they reached a natural viewpoint. Before them stretched a chain of imposing peaks, their snow-capped summits gleaming in the afternoon sun. And there, perched on one of the highest peaks, barely visible against the pale blue sky, was an unnatural structure. It wasn't large, but its precise geometry stood out against the irregular lines of the rock. The Temple of the Whispering Peaks.
Richard felt a pulse of energy emanating from the temple, a vibration that resonated in his mana. It was powerful, ancient, and strangely... silent. Too silent.
As they watched, Elyndra narrowed her eyes, her gaze fixed not on the temple, but on the sky surrounding it. "Richard... do you see that?"
Richard followed her gaze. At first he saw nothing unusual, just the clear sky. But then, using "Echo Vision," he perceived something: a subtle disturbance in the air currents around the temple's peak, a kind of... invisible barrier, a distortion that didn't seem natural. And within that distortion, faint but unmistakable, he saw points of hostile energy. There weren't many, but they were there, waiting.
"We're not alone," whispered Richard, his hand instinctively going to where he would carry a weapon if he had one.
Elyndra nodded slowly, her face grave. "It seems the organization not only arrived first... but they've already entered. Or," she added with a shiver in her voice, "the temple has trapped them."
The path to the temple wound along an exposed and treacherous ridge. And now, they knew they would face not only the trials of the temple itself, but also the agents of the organization, or what remained of them. The true test was about to begin.
Richard touched the Guardian's Seal with one hand and the Vision Scroll with the other. He felt that these ancient objects had been waiting for this moment, preparing him for what was to come. The second fragment of the Core was near, and with it, another step toward understanding the delicate balance between worlds that was now his responsibility to protect.