The Echoing Well and the Whisper of Celestial Blood

Lira had made her decision. Parting with Elara and Fael, though painful, brought her clarity. She was no longer torn between two worlds. Instead, she chose the path she believed was right: uncovering the truth behind the threat of Malakor, alongside Arka. The mysterious mist, now slightly receded from the ancient gate, carried the scent of fate calling her name.

"The Well of Memory?" Arka repeated, his face puzzled. He had never heard that name in any earthly legends or folktales.

Lira nodded, her eyes gazing into the distance, beyond the depths of the forest.

"It's a very secret place in Kayangan, Arka. They say all forgotten knowledge and history is stored there. Sometimes, fae who have lost their memories or seek wisdom go there."

She paused, recalling.

"I heard it in a lullaby my father used to sing. 'At the Well of Memory, the echoes of the past whisper… only the pure blood of Kayangan can open the path…'"

"The pure blood of Kayangan?" Arka frowned. "Then how can we find its earthly counterpart?"

Lira looked at the ancient gate carved with strange symbols.

"If this gate is a seal created together by fae and ancient humans, then surely there's a place on Earth that holds a similar connection. A place where the echoes of the past also whisper—but for those rooted in the Earth."

She remembered the old banyan tree that gave her a fleeting vision and energy that morning.

"Maybe it's not a water well, Arka. Maybe it's… a place so ancient, deeply tied to the roots of the Earth."

Arka pondered her words. He had once heard stories from his grandfather about "energy points" across the land—places where nature felt more alive or where ancestors lingered. Often considered sacred or avoided, to Lira, they might be clues.

"There are a few places like that," Arka murmured, pointing north. "There's the Echoing Stone Valley up north, near the mountains. People say any sound made there echoes endlessly, as if the stones remember. And there's also the Luminous Crystal Cave, but that's far and dangerous."

Lira felt a spark of energy when Arka mentioned the Echoing Stone Valley.

"The Echoing Stone Valley," she repeated. "Echoes of the past whisper… that might be it, Arka! The echoing sound—like memories!"

Though Arka knew the risks, he also saw the hope in Lira's eyes. If this was the way to uncover Malakor's threat—and understand Lira's world—he was willing to take the chance.

"Alright. We'll go to the Echoing Stone Valley," Arka declared, his face resolute. "But we'll need more supplies. And you, Lira, need to train more with your new powers."

Back at Arka's hut, the atmosphere shifted to one of purpose. Arka prepared more dried food and water, repaired his slightly damaged machete, and sharpened his kitchen knife. Meanwhile, Lira spent her time in the garden—not just helping with planting, but actively training her hybrid cultivation.

She attempted to summon the golden-blue light energy she had used earlier. At first, only faint sparks appeared. But she recalled the sensation when her hand had touched the gate's pillar—that grounded feeling of being rooted in the Earth.

Closing her eyes, Lira touched the garden soil. She imagined her own roots sinking deep into the Earth, connecting with the energy of soil, water, and minerals. Then, she visualized the celestial light from within her core shining outward, trying to fuse with the Earth's energy.

Slowly, a stable orb of blue-green light began to form in her palm. Its color blended the essence of Earth and Kayangan, radiating a warm yet dense aura. Lira could feel it pulsing—stronger than ever. This was her unique power on Earth.

"I did it, Arka!" Lira cried out joyfully, showing him the orb in her hand.

Arka was amazed.

"That's… incredible, Lira! You really do have that power." His respect and awe for her deepened.

Lira didn't stop at just forming light. She experimented—manipulating air, nurturing plants with her touch, even trying to heal a small cut on Arka's hand from a thorn. Though still basic, her powers were gradually returning—but in a different form, more grounded to the Earth. She even felt slightly stronger than in Kayangan, as if the Earth offered her a solid foundation.

That night, after their preparations were complete, Lira once again heard whispers. This time, they didn't come only from the distant dark energy, but from within herself. The voice of King Eldrin echoed, followed by Malakor's ominous threat, then the ancient whispers of the banyan tree and the gate—all blending into a chaotic melody of fate.

Lira knew—the more she uncovered, the more she would discover. And not all of it would be pleasant. But there was no turning back. She was no longer just a lost princess. She was the keeper of a key—one that, somehow, had awakened something that should have remained sealed. And Arka, a simple man of Earth, was now the only bridge between her and the terrifying truth.

---

In Kayangan, King Eldrin sat on his throne, a glowing goblet in hand. He drank slowly, his expression grim. The potion—Heart Crystal Essence—was both a calming agent and a medium for long-distance communication with celestial beings, but it drained his vitality.

"Lira… you're drifting further," King Eldrin muttered, sensing their weakening telepathic bond. He could no longer sense her exact location—only a faint direction.

"We cannot let her awaken the 'Well of Memory' on Earth, Your Majesty," said his advisor, the fae Elarion, his voice echoing through the hall. "It's too dangerous. The ancient prophecy was clear."

King Eldrin closed his eyes.

"That prophecy… is not as clear as you think, Elarion. There are parts missing. And I fear Lira will be the one to find them. Or worse, become part of them."

He knew—Lira's search for the truth might lead her to a destiny far greater than that of a mere princess. A destiny that could either save… or destroy both worlds.