Chapter 7 Road to Poseidon

The day had finally arrived. After two months of preparation and waiting, we stood before the grand entrance of the palace, the ornate gates open wide to reveal the snow-dusted road that stretched toward the horizon. Despite the clear skies, a sharp wind swept through the courtyard, biting at our cheeks and making Rosilia shiver slightly in her fur-lined cloak.

The delay had been both a blessing and a curse. The roads, long abandoned due to the beast that had terrorized the region, were in terrible condition, requiring workers to clear debris, repair bridges, and make the path usable once more. Add to that the unpredictable northern weather—though it was officially the end of winter, snowstorms continued to hit intermittently, blanketing the area in thick, icy drifts.

But the wait hadn't been wasted. George, being the meticulous ruler he was, ensured everything was prepared for our journey, including a formal application process for Isaiah's enrollment at the University of Deity. Apparently, the process wasn't as simple as just showing up and declaring your intentions. First, a letter had to be sent requesting an application form. If the university approved the request, they would send the form back with an official seal, which we would need to present upon arrival. It was a slow, bureaucratic process, but George's influence had undoubtedly sped things up.

I can hear you think what did we do during our wait?

The long weeks weren't idle. Isaiah had taken it upon himself to teach me the basics of the Gaia language. Though I wasn't fluent yet, I could manage basic conversations, enough to avoid getting completely lost in a crowd. In return, I helped Isaiah improve his magic. His progress was impressive—his spellcasting was sharper and more controlled than when we'd first met, though he still had a lot to learn.

Rosilia had also joined in our studies, and George personally taught all three of us the fundamentals of the Poseidon language. It turned out George possessed a the Angels blessing known as the "Language God," which allowed him to speak any language fluently after hearing a single word. 

Angels Blessings are powers given to people at birth by the world, that most people are born without.

Watching him effortlessly switch between languages was fascinating—and mildly frustrating, considering how hard the rest of us had to work just to master a few sentences.

Through these lessons, I learned more about Rosilia. Beneath her haughty exterior was a curious, eager young girl who soaked up knowledge like a sponge. She wasn't just learning languages; she was learning about the world outside the palace for the first time. It was hard not to feel a sense of responsibility for her.

Now, as we stood by the carriage, the reality of our departure began to sink in. The palace staff gathered to see us off, their expressions a mix of warmth and sadness. The king himself stood at the front of the group, his imposing figure softened by the affectionate way he looked at Rosilia.

"Bye," I said, bowing deeply. "Thank you for all your hard work and kindness during our stay."

George nodded, his stern face easing into a rare smile. "Take care of yourselves. And when you return, be sure to give my regards to Yatsu."

"I will," I promised, meeting his gaze.

Isaiah, already seated in the carriage, was eagerly counting the bags of money we'd been given. His childlike excitement at the sheer amount was contagious, and I couldn't help but smile.

Rosilia, however, lingered by her father. She wrapped her small arms around his waist, burying her face against his coat. "Bye, Daddy," she said softly, her voice trembling. Tears glistened in her ruby-red eyes.

George placed a large hand on her head, his expression bittersweet. "Be strong, Rosilia. These four years will pass quickly, and when you return, you'll be ready to take on the world."

She nodded, but the tears continued to fall as she reluctantly let go. Despite her proud demeanor, Rosilia was still a young girl who had never been away from home before. Her small frame barely reached her father's hips, and the sight of her trying to stand tall despite her sadness tugged at my heart.

With one final wave to the gathered crowd, we climbed into the carriage. Rosilia wiped her tears and took a seat beside me, her chin held high, though her hands trembled slightly as she clutched the folds of her cloak.

The driver cracked the reins, and the horses began to move. The wheels creaked as the carriage rolled forward, the palace slowly disappearing behind us. I leaned out of the window for one last look, seeing George standing there with his arms crossed, watching us until we were out of sight.

As we left the palace grounds and entered the freshly repaired road, I felt a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. This wasn't just a continuation of our journey—it felt like the beginning of something new.

Isaiah, still counting coins with a grin, finally looked up. "We're rich! Do you think we'll get to use all of this?"

I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress a smile. "Probably not if you spend it all on snacks."

Rosilia finally spoke, her voice quiet but steady. "I'm ready," she said, more to herself than to us.

I glanced at her and saw a flicker of determination in her eyes. The sadness of leaving her father was still there, but she was already looking ahead.

Part 2

The carriage creaked gently as it was pulled by a massive, woolly creature that resembled a mammoth. Its thick fur was a mix of gray and snowy white, blending seamlessly with the icy landscape around us. The creature, a Mammock, was a marvel of the northern territories—its four long, curved tusks arched outward majestically, and its stocky body exuded raw strength. Each step was deliberate, its wide paws spreading its weight evenly to prevent it from sinking into the snow. While most people in the north traveled using sledges pulled by snow wolves, Mammocks were the preferred choice for mountainous terrains like the ones we were navigating now.

The rhythmic sound of its heavy footsteps provided a soothing backdrop to the otherwise quiet journey. Snowflakes danced lazily in the air, sticking to the carriage's windows and creating a picturesque, frosty frame.

"Clap!"

Rosilia clapped her hands sharply, snapping Isaiah and me out of our quiet contemplation. She straightened her posture and threw her arms in the air, commanding attention.

"Isaiah, go do the food thing or something! Luna, go do whatever you are doing!" she ordered imperiously, her voice carrying an air of forced authority.

I glanced at her from my corner of the carriage, suppressing a chuckle. When I first met her, I had been physically terrified of her domineering attitude and fiery personality. But now, after spending weeks together, it was clear she was simply trying to imitate her father's commanding demeanor. Beneath her haughty exterior was a girl who was still figuring out her place in the world.

Rosilia crossed her arms and tilted her chin upward, sitting like a queen issuing royal decrees.

"Rosilia…" Isaiah began, his tone exasperated, but he didn't get far.

"It's Miss Rosilia to you," she interrupted, fixing him with a glare.

Isaiah slumped in his seat, giving her a defeated look. "Fine. Miss Rosilia," he said, drawing out the title sarcastically. "But, uh… I'm sorry, I don't really see you as the boss around here."

Rosilia's eyebrows shot up, and she turned sharply to face him. "What?! I am the princess of the Gaia kingdom! You must show me respect or—"

She cut herself off mid-sentence, her fiery retort faltering as she looked away from Isaiah. Her arms were still crossed, but her body language shifted. She turned her face toward the frosted window, her expression defiant yet conflicted. From my seat, I could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes, a hesitation she was trying desperately to hide.

Isaiah, who had been ready to retort, softened. He glanced at me, clearly unsure of how to handle her sudden shift in mood.

I sighed and leaned back in my seat, observing quietly. It wasn't hard to see what was going on. Rosilia was finally starting to realize something important: she wasn't in her kingdom anymore.

Back in Gaia, her title carried weight. People bowed to her, obeyed her every command, and treated her with the reverence reserved for royalty. But out here, in the vast expanse of snow and wilderness, her name meant nothing. To the rest of the world, she was just a normal girl—a stranger trying to carve out a place for herself.

I could see the struggle in her. She was proud, determined to prove her worth, yet unsure how to do so without the authority of her title.

For now, I decided to let the moment pass. This was something she needed to work through on her own. But when the time was right, I'd tell her what I was thinking:

That she didn't need to rely on her title or her father's name to command respect.

That out here, in the real world, power came from actions, not words.

That she had the potential to become someone great—not because she was a princess, but because she was Rosilia.

The Mammock let out a low, rumbling noise, and the carriage jolted slightly as we hit a bump in the road. Rosilia straightened in her seat, her composure returning. Isaiah shot me a look that seemed to say, What do we do with her?

I just shrugged, a small smile playing on my lips.

"Don't worry," I whispered to him. "She'll figure it out."

"His name is Ezekiel." Luna heard, she looked up and saw Rosilia standing before her. 

Why does she look nervous? She is the one that makes me nervous. 

Luna signed for her to sit next to her. Rosilia sat next to Luna. 

"How do you do it?" She asked. 

What is she referring to? Maybe convincing George to let her go to school?

 "Being Boss I mean." She looked at the ground like a little child that was about to confess to doing something wrong. 

Boss? Oh, what Isaiah said. 

She didn't take that seriously, right? 

"Well, to be boss you need to not only think about what you desire, hear what other people have to say and reward them, praise them and show appreciation. But it is not like I am qualified to become a ruler or anything." 

Rosilia looked with stars in her eyes from excitement. "Wow! You know so much!" She stood up and stood before Luna, she held out her hand.

"I chose you to be become my right-hand man and instructor while I take the throne."

She had a proud and exciting look on her face. 

She is impressed by that? I don't know what George taught her, but he did look like a mean dictator. 

"My dad told me always. If anyone talks back at you, you need to show who is boss." 

yeah figures by the way she acts. 

"I am sorry Rosilia but I need to find my family." Luna said. 

Rosilia looked disappointed and wanted to say something, but she stopped herself. "Rosilia when you get to school you will see a lot more people like me, because in truth I am just a normal girl. 

Make friends, people you can rely on and make them rely on you. Even try to find a boy you like and ask him to be king." 

Rosilia had uncertainty in her eyes. "Push all your worries about ruling your kingdom aside and life those four years to the fullest." 

Rosilia looked conflicted and confused.

 "My entire life I have been taught how to act tough and show others my higher status. 

I don't think I ever had a conversation with another girl my age before, I feel alive but also so scared. My dream has come true to finally go to a place where I can meet normal people that don't see me as the perfect princess the kingdom made me out to be.

Then why am I feeling scared? Why do I have the urge to run back to my room?" Her voice was trembling, and tears ran down her face. 

I can't really say much because I haven't been in a situation like this. But I want to help her, I want to be there for her... 

Luna stood up and hugged Rosilia. 

Rosilia was surprised and tugged her nose in Luna's chest like a cat. 

Luna stroked Rosilia's dark red hair, Rosilia is small she came just above Luna's chest. 

Luna was looking over Rosilia and she could see Isaiah sleeping. 

I feel like an older sister. It is a nice feeling; it is a feeling of peace. I wish that this feeling could last forever. 

Luna let out a smile. Maybe I will consider going to school ones I am back home. 

The night was quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fire that illuminated the campsite with a gentle, orange glow. The Mammock, Ezekiel as Rosilia had called him, lay curled up near the flames, its massive, woolly body rising and falling in slow, peaceful breaths. Snow blanketed the world around them, creating an insulated silence that made every sound—crackling embers, distant owl calls, even the faint whisper of the wind—feel intimate.

Isaiah was fast asleep inside the carriage, sprawled awkwardly across the seats, his breathing steady and light. Meanwhile, Luna sat outside, her back pressed against Ezekiel's warm, furry side. The chill of the night air nipped at her cheeks, but the Mammock's natural heat kept her comfortable. She stared into the flickering fire, letting her thoughts wander to memories of home and the road ahead.

"His name is Ezekiel."

Luna looked up, startled by the sudden voice. Standing before her was Rosilia, her silhouette outlined by the firelight. The princess looked uncharacteristically nervous, her hands clasped in front of her and her gaze shifting from the ground to Luna's face.

Why does she look nervous? Luna thought. She's the one who usually makes me nervous.

Luna gestured for Rosilia to sit down beside her. Rosilia hesitated for a moment before accepting the silent invitation, lowering herself onto the snow-dusted ground with surprising grace.

"How do you do it?" Rosilia asked, breaking the silence.

Luna frowned. "Do what?"

"Being boss, I mean," Rosilia replied, her voice quiet and uncertain. She kept her gaze fixed on the ground, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her coat like a child confessing to breaking something valuable.

Boss? Luna thought. Oh, what Isaiah said earlier. She didn't take that seriously… did she?

"Well," Luna began, choosing her words carefully, "to be a good leader—or boss, as you put it—you need to think about more than just your own desires. You have to listen to the people around you, hear what they have to say, and reward them for their efforts. Praise them when they do well, and show appreciation for their hard work. But honestly, I'm not exactly qualified to become a ruler or anything like that."

Rosilia's eyes lit up with excitement, sparkling like the stars overhead. "Wow! You know so much!" she exclaimed. Jumping to her feet, she faced Luna with a determined expression and thrust her hand out as if making an official declaration.

"I choose you to become my right-hand man and instructor when I take the throne!"

Luna blinked at her, taken aback by the sudden proclamation. She's impressed by that? she thought, stifling a laugh. I'm not sure what George taught her, but he really does act like a dictator.

"My dad always told me, 'If anyone talks back to you, you need to show them who's boss,'" Rosilia added, crossing her arms and puffing out her chest.

Yeah, that explains the way she acts, Luna mused.

"I'm sorry, Rosilia," Luna said gently, "but I can't be your instructor. I need to find my family."

Rosilia's confident demeanor faltered. Her shoulders slumped, and she opened her mouth as if to argue, but stopped herself. Instead, she sat back down, looking downcast.

"Rosilia," Luna continued, "when you get to school, you'll meet so many amazing people. People like me—and better than me. You'll make friends, people you can rely on, and who can rely on you. And who knows? Maybe you'll even meet a boy you like and ask him to be king someday."

Rosilia's expression shifted, uncertainty clouding her features. "Push all your worries about ruling your kingdom aside," Luna said with a small smile, "and live these four years to the fullest."

Rosilia's lips trembled as tears welled up in her dark red eyes. She stared at the ground, her voice barely above a whisper. "My whole life… I've been taught to act tough, to show everyone my higher status. I don't think I've ever had a real conversation with another girl my age before. I feel… alive, but I'm also so scared.

"My dream has come true—I'm finally going to a place where no one sees me as the perfect princess the kingdom made me out to be. But why am I so scared? Why do I have this urge to run back to my room and hide?" Her voice cracked as tears began streaming down her cheeks.

Luna's heart ached for her. She couldn't claim to understand Rosilia's struggles, but she knew what it felt like to be lost and uncertain. She couldn't let the girl face that fear alone.

Luna stood up and gently pulled Rosilia into a hug. The princess stiffened in surprise at first, but then melted into Luna's embrace, burying her face in Luna's chest like a small, frightened kitten seeking comfort.

"It's okay," Luna whispered, stroking Rosilia's silky red hair. She noted how small the girl was, barely reaching her chest. "You're going to be just fine. You're stronger than you think."

From over Rosilia's head, Luna glanced toward the carriage. Isaiah was still fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the emotional moment unfolding outside.

I feel like an older sister, Luna realized, her heart swelling with a strange, unfamiliar warmth. It's… nice. Peaceful, even. I wish this feeling could last forever.

As Rosilia's breathing steadied and the tears subsided, Luna smiled softly to herself. Maybe, she thought, when I've found my family and everything's settled… I'll think about going to school too. Maybe I can have this feeling again.

Part 3

The next morning, they were passing through a snowy, rocky valley. The snow on the mountains contrasts nicely with the reddish tones of the surrounding rock formations.

"Wow! This is incredible!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, in excitement.

I like nature more than the cities; it just feels more like I am alive when I am in nature. 

erosion-formed mountain can be seen with a natural arch or opening in the middle, which is an impressive natural phenomenon. The mountains appear steep and rocky, with sharp peaks and deep valleys, The sky was grey, and it created a foggy effect. 

I guess it is going to snow soon, we need to find a cave, or I have to make shelters again.

I don't know why but for some reason the air feels thick here. It can be because we are high up in the mountains, but I have this gut feeling that something terrible is about to happen. 

The others seem to be feeling the same thing they look on edge.

"Luna, you feel it to, right?" Isaiah asked. 

"Yeah, it feels like anxiety." Luna looked at Rosilia, her proud and confident expressions were gone as if they never existed. 

Her expression was replaced by fear and uncertainty. 

Isaiah and Rosilia kept looking at the path before us. The snowy path together with the grey clouds creates a tranquil feeling. 

"Get your weapons ready." Rosilia said. 

Her voice was trembling, she got her steel shuriken, Isaiah his sword and Luna her knife. 

Thump…. 

Thump… 

They heard Faint footsteps in the distance. Something or someone is coming… 

The feeling of fear and anxiety was getting heavier by the second. 

They could hear footsteps but because of the fog, there was nothing that they could see. 

Everyone was frozen in place, the only thing they could do was stare waiting for the unknown. 

Thump... 

Thump… 

A tall figure appeared out of the fog. 

It was a man. 

His hair is dark brown, green eyes, no particular equipment, wearing a simple grey coat, a black hat was on his head, and he has a striking appearance with a serious or stoic expression. Neither riding on a Mammock, nor riding a carriage, just walking along. 

But for some reason the man looked familiar. 

The man passed by without giving us a look. As I watched him my mind wandered off by the fact that he looked so familiar, the name is on the tip of my tong. 

"Tat...." 

As I gazed over to Isaiah and Rosilia, their expressions were far too excessively different from normal. 

All of the blood from their skin had been drained. Cold sweat was pouring, their hands that were holding their weapons were shaking. I know that expression all too well, it brings back memories I want to bury deep down. 

It's terror. 

The man stopped. His expression turned from serious or stoic to anger. 

"Girl with the lost eye." the man said. 

The tone of his voice was extremely friendly his behavior as while, if you were to ask which way, it has some feeling of seeing an old friend unexpectedly. 

Before I wasn't particularly afraid of him. Maybe because I was too caught up in my thoughts but now, as he focused his attention on me. 

I feel the same way I did all those years ago. 

Terror... 

Luna tried to look at him, but her eyes were locked on the ground like some kind of statue. She couldn't move because of the fear. 

"Do you know someone by the name Tatsuya Fukushu?" Luna's eyes lit up in happiness and all of her fear and terror left her body like she had just heard the best news of her life. 

Luna's gazed came off the ground and turned to the man. 

Finally! 

Finally, someone that maybe knows something about him. 

Maybe Tatsuya realized I was gone so he asked people to search for me? 

What about the others, maybe he was acquainted with them too? Maybe that's why he felt so familiar? 

Luna took a step forward as she said. "Yeah! He is a friend of mine, and I am searching for hi..." 

In an instant blood came up my throat and I spit out blood. 

"Goha!!" 

And Luna fell to her knees. 

I was looking at blood spread out on the ground, I wasn't able to move, I couldn't even gather my mana. 

Then I realized that it was my blood that I was lying in. 

That man landed an attack on me while his back was turned. I didn't even see him move. It took me 10 seconds until I realized it was me that was hit by an attack. 

The attack felt like immense pressure was thrown at me. Did he crush my lungs? Crush my organs? I could still breathe, but it was shallow and slow, it didn't feel like much oxygen was getting in my lungs. 

Maybe it is filled with blood? No, it wasn't that. 

My gate, my mana... he crushed my gate. This is bad without my gate I can't produce mana that's why I can't gather it anymore. 

Without my gate I can't use spells anymore so also no healing magic... 

In other words, it's fatal. 

I am going to die. 

No!! 

NO!! 

I don't want to die! 

Ones I made that realization everything around me faded I could only hear my inner voice. 

Fear, terror, disappointment, sadness, all that kind of emotion filled up inside of me. 

No! Please help me! 

Someone please help me! I don't want to die! 

I don't want to die! 

I don't want to die! 

I don't want to die! 

Tears were pouring down my face not only from sadness but also from hatred. 

As I was going through my memories probably to find a way out of this situation. 

There were only three people who I could see. Yastu Davida, the person that saved me and was like a dad to me. 

Ruza Davida, the person that was like a sister to me. 

And Tatsuya Fukushu, the person that was like a brother to me but there was one more. 

One more person I could see. 

No, he wasn't from my memory, he was standing right in front of me. 

Everything was blurry and had no color anymore but the person, I could see clearly was wearing all grey. 

Every other feature of my body was already dead, but my hatred for the man was what kept me alive. 

I need to kill him. I need to save them... 

 them? 

Oh, that's right Rosilia and Isaiah how are they doing? 

I couldn't see much because of the blurriness of my eye but I could see two bodies lying on the ground next to the man, both covered under a layer of snow.

The man walked over at me, but I could only hear a ringing sound in my ears. At that time, my consciousness was already on the verge of being interrupted. 

I didn't have any judgment left.

The man to a look at me as he surveyed. 

Our eyes met. 

"Is it over?" he questioned. "Yastu has told me great things about you. He even considered making you the new apostle." 

I can't hear what he is saying. 

In front of this overwhelming intent to kill, I can't do anything. Helpless and weak just like all those years ago, that time I was lucky someone had gone to save me but this time that will not happen. 

You only have one life so make the most out of it, someone used to say that to me? I don't remember. I wasn't strong enough. 

"You are already dead? I can still see the mana surrounding you. It is an impressive scene indeed, you may even rival mana god Hecate. No mature." the man said. 

He turned around and started to walk away 

Then I felt something, this feeling was something I experienced many times. 

For some miracle I felt mana in my body, it was all over the place just like it was right before I got teleported away. I could feel it realizing from every Ince of my body. 

I couldn't control it, but I knew that it was going to realize something, maybe it was my last lifeforce that was giving in to the darkness. 

Then I felt it... 

It was realized.

Part 4

Everything was white, a pure white space. I couldn't move but I could still feel my body. I didn't hear the ringing anymore and my breath was steady and calm. I could feel the sun's warmth on my body and a calm breeze of the wind. 

"-----XX---XXXX" 

I heard a high-pitched voice that I didn't recognize. 

"----XX----XXXX" 

I tried to make sense of it, straining my mind. This wasn't the language of Deity, nor the tongue of Gaia or Poseidon. Could it be Ifaisteio? Kyoei? Or perhaps even Carlem? The question spiraled through my thoughts as I wrestled with the uncertainty. If this wasn't a divine language, then… was I dead? Or was this truly some sort of god?

My mind brimmed with questions as I willed my eyes open, the light burning sharply against them. Slowly, my vision adjusted, and I saw two figures standing over me. The blinding brightness faded, much like the soothing effect of healing magic subsiding.

The two figures were young women, their features identical. They must have been twins. Each wore a golden diadem with intricate patterns that shimmered faintly in the light, a testament to their noble bearing. Their flowing dresses were a marvel—crafted from a sheer, ethereal fabric that seemed almost to dance with the air. Gold-bordered sleeves cascaded down their arms, partially open on the sides, adding a delicate elegance to their forms. Long, straight blonde hair framed their flawless, angular faces. They had an otherworldly beauty that immediately told me—they were elves.

"---XX---XX" I made a sign like someone didn't understand what was going on. 

The elf girls looked at each other confused and made a sign to follow them. 

How did I get here? Where am I? What happened? 

Those were the questions that were going through my mind. I know my name, it's Luna Davida but after that everything feels faded just like a dream. 

Luna arrived at the village. The houses have distinctive, colorful round doors. In the foreground, doors of different colors can be seen, such as red and blue. 

Several levels are visible, with several houses on each layer of the hill. The roofs are covered with grass, so the houses blend in well with the natural surroundings. 

Small well cared gardens could be seen in front of the houses with all kinds of vegetables grown on the them. 

The elves led me through the village, past curious gazes and polite nods from its inhabitants. We approached one of the larger houses, its round windows glowing faintly with colored glass panes. The door swung open, and we stepped inside.

The interior radiated warmth and coziness. Wooden beams arched across the curved ceiling, and a simple iron chandelier hung overhead. A small wooden chair sat beside the door, accompanied by a basket of fresh herbs. Everything here felt handcrafted, each detail lovingly tended to.

Seated at a round table was an elderly elf. His long, snow-white beard flowed down to his chest, and his matching hair framed a face marked with deep wisdom. A red cloak with intricate gold and black embroidery draped over his shoulders. He held a pipe between his fingers, the faint aroma of herbal smoke filling the air.

"---XX---XXX" one of the girls said to the old man. 

The old man's sharp green eyes turned to me. "You understand this language?" he asked in the tongue of Deity. 

I nodded. 

"My girls told me they found you in the forest." He leaned forward, studying me carefully. "Where are you from, child?"

"I'm from…" My voice faltered. A chill ran down my spine as I realized—I didn't know. Panic surged as I grasped at the void in my memory. The only thing I could recall with certainty was my name. "I'm sorry, sir, but I… I've lost my memory."

I glanced down at my hand, drawn to my pinky finger. There was something there—a faint tug, like a forgotten promise. But to whom? The memory danced just out of reach.

I made a promise to someone? But to who? I know I made a promise but what was the promise I don't remember.

I don't remember my family or the friends that I had. 

As I struggled with my thoughts, a piece of paper slipped from my pocket, fluttering gently onto the table.

"What's this?" I murmured, picking it up. It was a map of the world, well-worn and creased. One detail stood out: a circle drawn around the city of Deity. I had no recollection of marking it, but it was the only clue I had.

"I think I need to go there," I said hesitantly. So, thank you for all your help but I need to go"

"Not so fast," the old man interrupted, his voice stern. "What happened to your mana? Was it stolen?"

"My… mana?" I repeated, confused.

I raised a hand instinctively, attempting to summon a spell.

"NO!" The old man's voice thundered, making me freeze. His expression was one of alarm.

 Out of shock I stopped the spell. 

"If you try to release any mana, you'll die from mana loss," he explained gravely. "You must stay here and recover. Attempting magic in your state is suicide."

"You need to stay here and heal up until you are able to go." 

Part 5

A month and a half passed.

The time blurred into a peaceful routine. I spent my days recovering, tended to by a kind old elf woman. She fussed over me like a grandmother, her gentle care as warm as the hearth that crackled in her kitchen. Henoch, the elder, visited daily—though I suspected his frequent visits had less to do with me and more with the sweet old lady.

I learned the basics of the elven language during my stay. It shared similarities with the language of Deity, making it surprisingly easy to pick up. The elves' reliance on their sharp hearing fascinated me, as did their hunting techniques. Silent and efficient, they used bows and arrows, guided by sound rather than sight.

The village grew familiar, its rhythms comforting. Yet, the map burned in the back of my mind—a reminder that my journey was far from over.

Two weeks later, I left the elven village behind, the path to Poseidon stretching out before me.