The Journey to Earth's Echo and Ancient Whispers

Lira's decision to remain on Earth and uncover the mystery of Malakor had strengthened her resolve. The whispers about the "Well of Memories" and "pure Celestial blood" still echoed in her mind—only now, she began to suspect there might be an Earthly counterpart: an ancient place that preserved forgotten histories. The Echoing Stone Valley, as Arka had mentioned, seemed like the most promising clue.

Dawn broke, bringing with it a renewed sense of purpose. Both of them had rested well, and Lira had spent the night training her hybrid cultivation, deepening her connection with Earth's energy. She could now feel a steadier current flowing within her—a more grounded foundation compared to the ethereal lightness of Celestial power. Arka's shoulder wound had also improved, thanks to Lira's gentle healing touch, though he still needed to be careful.

"We have enough supplies for a few days," Arka said, giving their pack one final check. "The Echoing Stone Valley isn't too far, but the terrain is tough. We'll have to go through dense forests and some steep hills."

Lira nodded, her eyes gazing northward. "I can feel something out there, Arka. A very ancient energy. It may not be the Celestial 'Well of Memories'—but it's Earth's echo, I'm sure of it." She recalled the carved symbols on the banyan tree and the ancient gate. She had a feeling those symbols would appear again.

They set off, leaving behind Arka's small hut—which now felt like Lira's first true home on Earth. Lira walked beside him, her steps lighter than before. She was no longer weighed down by helplessness, but instead driven by purpose.

Their journey through the forest was calmer than it had been before. There were no more red-eyed wolves stalking them, as though the mysterious fog that had once surrounded the gate had drawn back the corrupted creatures. Still, Lira remained alert. She could sense faint traces of dark energy in the air, like shadows that refused to fully disappear.

As they walked, Lira continued practicing her cultivation. She tried drawing energy from the trees and stones, feeling the pulse of life within them. Each success strengthened the green-blue aura surrounding her. Arka, meanwhile, watched her with curious eyes. He couldn't see the energy, but he could sense the change in her—this girl now carried herself with a quiet confidence, more attuned to the world around her.

At one point, as they climbed a steep hill, Lira suddenly stopped. She looked down at the valley below.

"Arka… is that the Echoing Stone Valley?"

Arka peered over her shoulder. "Not yet. But we're close. We should get there before sunset."

He noticed the strange expression on Lira's face. "What is it?"

Lira didn't answer right away. Something was calling to her from the valley below—stronger than the whispers of the banyan tree or the gate. It wasn't a voice of words, but an ancient song without lyrics—a melody that felt like sorrow and hope woven together. The tune was oddly familiar. It was the same lullaby she had once heard from King Eldrin when she was a child, a song that spoke of the "Well of Memories."

She realized then: this song was the essence of the "echo of the past." It was a spiritual resonance, a memory etched into the stones of the valley. And more startlingly, a part of her responded to it. The Celestial blood within her, now fused with Earth's grounding force, reacted to the ancient call.

"This is it, Arka!" Lira cried, her voice full of excitement and wonder. "This is Earth's 'Well of Echoes'—the place where the past whispers!"

They descended the hill at once, following the wordless melody. The closer they got, the clearer Lira's mind became: flashes of battles, vague figures of fae and ancient humans standing side by side… and then a golden light spreading across the stones.

When they finally reached the valley floor, Lira stood in awe. Massive rock formations shaped by nature rose around them, their surfaces covered in mysterious symbols—identical to those she'd seen at the ancient gate and the banyan tree. At the center of the formation lay a clear pool, shimmering under the sunlight, perfectly still yet radiating profound wisdom.

Drawn by an unseen force, Lira stepped toward the pool. The ancient song now filled the entire valley, echoing from every stone, every droplet of water. As she peered into the water's surface, her reflection stared back—yet beneath it, the same glowing symbols pulsed from deep within the pool, as if carved into its very bottom.

"Arka… this pool… it's memory," Lira whispered, reaching out her hand to touch the water.

But before her fingers could make contact, a dark shadow flashed beneath the surface—and the melody stopped. The water rippled gently, and the images in Lira's mind darkened: a long-fingered hand clawing upward, and a figure resembling a fae, but with ashen skin and hollow eyes, staring back at her in despair.

"No!" Lira gasped, stumbling back and pulling her hand away. The water calmed, as if nothing had happened.

Arka rushed to her side. "Lira, what's wrong?"

"I… I saw something," she stammered. "Not Malakor. But a fae. A fae that… was trapped. Or maybe… already dead."

A chill ran down her spine. A new whisper crept into her thoughts—unlike the ones before:

Don't trust… don't approach…

Lira now understood: this "Well of Echoes" didn't only hold memories of ancient history, but also hidden dangers. Something else was in the pool, something that wasn't meant to be touched. And the whisper she just heard—it was a warning.

But who sent the warning?

And what had truly happened to the fae she saw in that fleeting vision?