Chapter 604 Stone that Keeps the Soul

The lower chamber of the Temple of Mount fell silent once more after Fitran's last conversation with the fragment of Sheena. However, this silence was now filled with a kind of gentle pressure, like the whispers of the earth holding onto something for too long. The dim light from the old candles hanging on the walls seemed to flicker, casting dancing shadows that added to the mysterious atmosphere of the place. In the corner of the room, the dampness of the walls dripped slowly, like tears from a history long past, inviting memories of the passage of time and the secrets hidden within the dark recesses.

In the center of the circle formed by the roots of the Tree of Life stood five large quartz stones, each radiating a different color. Since Rinoa returned from within the roots and Fitran found the courage to acknowledge his wounds, one of the stones began to crack. The sound of the crack seeped into the silence, merging with the flow of magical energy surrounding them, as if inviting a miracle ready to be born from within. Around them, the scent of damp earth and the surge of energy felt like vibrations in their chests, signaling that something greater was stirring behind the scenes, waiting for the right moment to emerge.

The crack was small, almost invisible. But from within it emanated a strange golden-orange light — not ordinary magic, but a resonance of meaning. The stone... contained a soul. In the gentle breeze whispering through the sprawling roots, there was a soft melody, as if the universe itself was involved, creating a harmonious and soothing symphony. Like a sweet song from afar, the delicate whisper seemed to invite them closer, like a gentle call from a long-lost mother, urging their hearts to listen intently, savoring every note recorded in the vibrations of that light.

Fitran and Rinoa stood before the stone. They could feel a subtle pulse, as if the stone had a heartbeat of its own. Then, a voice began to emerge from within the crack — not a sound carried through the air, but directly from the roots of their minds. Between fear and curiosity, Rinoa grasped Fitran's hand, feeling the balance between tension and hope hanging in the air. Around them, the soft light flickered, creating shadows that danced on the ground, as if the universe itself was observing this sacred moment, flowing in a rhythm that was harmonious and full of meaning.

"I have waited for centuries. In the midst of time that refuses direction, and a world that forgets its first roots."

The voice was heavy, resonant, yet gentle — like that of a teacher who never leaves their student, even when the student has long since passed. With every word spoken, the orange light from the stone vibrated, sending waves of warmth flowing within them, reminding them of the power buried in history. In the corners of their vision, a fleeting shimmering aura passed by, signaling the presence of something more than just physical, touching the spiritual essence of what was happening.

"My name is... El'sharet."

The quartz stone slowly cracked open. From within, a figure of light emerged, gradually crystallizing into a humanoid form. The figure was tall, draped in a long robe made of shards of light, with silver hair that floated like fine smoke. Its eyes did not shine but absorbed the light around it. On its chest, an ancient Proto-Speech symbol was etched:

ꦄꦭ꧀ꦱꦫꦺꦠ — Al'saret

(The One Who Records the Fall of Meaning)

In the presence of this figure, the air seemed to freeze, holding every heartbeat and morning dew clinging to the leaves. The temple felt like a portal leading them to a deeper altar, where every breath carried meaning and every heartbeat delivered a message. A mystical glow flowed between them, creating a deep connection, as if heaven and earth united for a single purpose.

Fitran stepped forward, alert.

"You are not an ordinary being," he said.

As Fitran's words echoed in the tense air, a gentle breeze blew between them, carrying the fragrant aroma of rare flowers growing nearby. In the distance, the sound of a waterfall added to the mystical ambiance, flowing softly like a song left behind from a forgotten age. In the soft light illuminating the space, the shadows of the trees seemed to move as if alive, witnessing this mysterious encounter.

El'sharet nodded. "I am the early guardian of Genesis magic. Not a creator. Not a user. I am merely... the keeper of meaning before the fall."

Rinoa clutched Fitran's arm. "Is this... one of the Early Guardians of the world?"

"No," El'sharet replied. "I stand between them. On the threshold of beginning and end. I... am the first fragment that recorded when the will of the world began to be misunderstood as power."

As El'sharet's statement echoed, the light around him vibrated, as if responding to his words. A sense of calm flowed, as if time paused for a moment to contemplate the truth spoken. The surroundings felt more alive, as if every blade of grass, every pebble, and every heartbeat of the creatures in that place had listened and understood the depth of meaning expressed. A soft voice whispered, as if the wind too was waiting, caught in a silence rich with significance.

El'sharet stepped into the center of the circle. The roots of the Tree of Life welcomed him as if they recognized him. He looked at Fitran and Rinoa, then raised his hand. Five Proto-Speech symbols appeared floating in the air — forming an incomplete spiral pattern. In the air, soft light shimmered, dancing like morning dew dripping from palm leaves, creating an aura that transcended the boundaries of time.

Around them, the glowing aura vibrated gently, as if merging with the heartbeat of nature. The sound of the whispering wind sang ancient songs, carrying messages from forgotten times. In that moment, time seemed to stop; not even the ticking of a clock could be heard, only a magical feeling filling the space. The ground beneath their feet vibrated softly, radiating energy that connected them to the deep and intricate history of the world.

"This world is not one-layered. Beneath the roots of the Stones, much deeper, lies a gateway to the Gamma plains."

"Gamma is not a world, nor a dimension. It is the fundamental space of meaning, where the initial wills that failed to be discarded form a fractured reality."

Fitran squinted. "I once... felt the remnants of its existence. But its path never fully opened."

In his heart, he felt as if a strong call echoed within his soul, hinting at the presence of something greater and more mysterious. Faint shadows appeared in his mind, displaying a history of conflict and harmonization woven within Gamma, like a golden thread connecting every aspect of life. A distant voice sounded like silence singing, as if the universe united in feeling it, creating a longing for knowledge that had long been buried.

"Because to enter Gamma," El'sharet said, "five artifacts are needed — not from power, but from forgotten concepts."

Veins of light flickered around them, indicating the awakening power. El'sharet sensed a magical presence enveloping the place, as if all elements of nature had agreed to witness this crucial revelation. The voice of nature and the whisper of energy seemed to guide them into the heart of the oldest secrets buried. In the corner of their vision, soft shadows danced, creating an illusion of time travel, as if inviting them to remember forgotten moments, when the souls that had passed hinted at hope and traditions from ancient times.

El'sharet conjured the five symbols before them, each crystallizing into the form of an object:

The space around them vibrated slowly as the first artifact appeared. The air filled with a damp aroma, like morning dew in the heart of the forest, flowing from every side. A soft rumble, as if there were whispers from another world, added to the mystical atmosphere of the place. Among the gentle breezes, there were whispers of ancient mantras resembling a sweet song, softly echoing in their ears, as if reminding them of the power buried within, calling souls to dance in harmony.

Oculum Caeci (Eye of the Blind)

A black crystal ball that can only reveal truths that are not meant to be seen. This artifact is buried in the ruins of the Tower of Will in the north of the Stones.

Vox Nonnata (Voice Yet to Be Born)

A small bell that only rings when someone realizes they are the result of someone else's decisions. Buried in the tombs of the dream bearers.

Ferrum Pietatis (Sword of Mercy)

A blunt black blade that can only wound entities without names. Thrown into the River of Slow Time.

Manus Oblita (Forgotten Hand)

A silver glove that once belonged to the first human who refused to use magic. Now kept in the sarcophagus of Zantherra, the early guardian of the Stones. The sarcophagus is adorned with ancient symbols, softly shimmering in the moonlight that breaks through the gaps of the large trees surrounding it. The whispering wind swirls among the leaves, as if holding untold secrets. Time seemed to pause for a moment, the world around the sarcophagus fell silent, and there was a sense that even the stars had stopped their heartbeat, listening to every vibration from this sacred place.

Scriptura Altarum (Book of the Rejected Altar)

An empty book that fills itself when someone utters the name that must not be spoken. Its location... is unknown. Even El'sharet cannot touch it. In its shadow, the confused and fearful faces of those who sought this book appeared, as if the object was waiting for the right moment to reveal itself. Slowly, darkness crept from the corners of the sarcophagus, creating long shadows that seemed to strike at the souls of every seeker daring to approach this forbidden knowledge.

El'sharet gazed at Fitran and Rinoa with empty yet grave eyes.

"These five artifacts will not open Gamma for you."

Fitran raised an eyebrow. "Then for whom?"

"For... those born from your wounds. For a new world that wishes to know why the old world once surrendered."

Rinoa looked towards the roots. "If we do not open the gateway, then why must we gather the five artifacts?"

"Because these artifacts are the seals of will, and when Gamma begins to rise on its own... without balance, it will drag the Stones and the entire Alpha into an irreversible spiral."

The space around them vibrated, as if following the flow of energy from El'sharet's words. A mystical aura enveloped them, and every heartbeat seemed to count down to something greater than mere conflict. Amidst the dimness that embraced them, soft light occasionally flickered, depicting formless shadows dancing between them, as if the weary spirits of the artifacts were trying to express something, the whispers of the wind caressing their skin, hinting at unspoken stories, forgotten nostalgia, and an unquenchable longing.

"So this prevents destruction?" Fitran asked.

El'sharet smiled faintly. "No. This... prevents the old will from demanding an explanation."

Yet, amidst the flickering lights surrounding El'sharet, there was a soft whisper echoing, as if emanating from the souls bound to the artifacts. The voice was filled with longing and sorrow, like a song from the past that would never fade. Each note touched the center of deep curiosity, making Fitran and Rinoa feel as if they were thrown into a more extravagant reality. With every breath, it felt as if they could smell the scent of a somber history, a blend of hope and loss, reminding them how thin the line was between reality and memory. This magical feeling seemed to draw them closer to an invisible river of time, where the past correlated with an unwritten future.

After that explanation, El'sharet's body began to dissolve back into the quartz light. The light seemed to vibrate as his figure faded, as if reminding them of a presence that would never fully disappear. In that moment, the world seemed to pause, allowing silence to seep in, giving space for the effusion of an unreachable soul, where every disappearing light touched the layers of depth buried within them.

"Your task is not to save. But to remember completely."

A fleeting shadow appeared in their minds — quiet places where they once played, and the sound of laughter echoing like a song from lost childhood adventures. The desire to return flickered between them, but the depth of the mystery waiting ahead was more enticing, like stars in the night sky shining with promises of secrets. Amidst the flowing shadows, the night wind whispered softly, carrying the scent of damp earth and unspoken hope. Silence enveloped them, as if time had paused for a moment to grasp the beauty of memories and face the destiny to come.

"And remember... the deeper you search for Gamma, the more parts of yourselves you will lose to enter it."

Fitran stood still. Rinoa held his hand, feeling the vibrations of a wider universe, realizing that this journey was about more than mere discovery; it was about surrendering to the unexpected. Everything felt like it was vibrating, like the moment before a storm, and they knew that whatever awaited them would change them forever. In the depths of pain and hope united, distant silent voices seemed to call them, as if asking to breach the boundaries of reality and explore forbidden territories, where soul and universe united in an eternal dance.