---
I stayed in the clearing all morning.
The sun never reached me directly. The trees stood too tall, their branches tangled like the ribs of something long dead. Light drifted through in soft pieces… but it felt borrowed, like it didn't belong here either.
I didn't mind.
My legs were folded beneath me. I sat on the flat stone without moving, my hands resting on my knees. The cold didn't bite. Hunger hadn't touched me since the night before. There was a warmth inside my chest… not sharp or painful, but steady.
Like something breathing through me.
I didn't know how to meditate. I had no manuals, no teacher, no path to follow. But I closed my eyes anyway… and listened.
At first, there was nothing. Just the quiet of the forest. The sound of leaves brushing in the wind. The soft creak of branches above.
Then… deeper.
Something else moved beneath that silence. Not sound… not thought… but presence.
It felt like standing near deep water. Still on the surface, but too dark to see through.
I reached for it.
And it reached back.
---
The sensation wasn't gentle.
It wasn't violent either. Just… absolute.
I felt my breath catch as something slid across the edges of my mind. Like a hand brushing against glass. I didn't flinch. I didn't pull away.
I let it in.
For a moment, I felt nothing.
Then came the voice.
Not loud. Not soft. Just real. Real in a way that made the rest of the world feel quiet.
> "You opened the door."
I didn't speak aloud. I thought my answer, slow and steady.
"Yes."
> "You accepted."
"Yes."
> "Then you are bound."
The mark on my palm pulsed, once. A faint glow… like it had been waiting.
> "You are the first in a long time."
The voice was calm. Distant. It didn't feel like speech. More like a thought too large to carry… slowed down just enough for me to understand.
"What… are you?" I asked.
> "A fragment. A memory. A chain that was never broken."
It didn't help much.
"Are you… alive?"
> "I sleep. I remember. I wait. You are the knock that woke me."
I opened my eyes.
The forest hadn't changed.
But I had.
---
I stood slowly, my legs steady beneath me.
The voice didn't speak again right away, but I could feel it now… like a quiet hum beneath my skin. Not words. Just weight. It didn't press. It didn't push. It simply remained.
I felt stronger. Not in the way a warrior might feel muscle. Not like speed or power.
But grounded. Present.
I walked past the edge of the clearing, deeper into the ruins.
The Fallen Grounds had been abandoned for decades. Maybe longer. The sect that once trained here had vanished before I was born. All that remained were stone paths, broken pillars, and half-buried stairways leading into overgrowth.
It was quiet here too.
But not empty.
The voice followed.
Not always speaking. Not always loud. But there… like a thread tied around my thoughts.
I moved toward the nearest building... a collapsed shrine overrun with moss and shadow. A stone table sat in the center, cracked down the middle. Broken prayer beads lay scattered across its surface.
I reached toward them.
> "Do not kneel to ghosts," the voice said.
I paused.
"Was this yours?" I asked.
> "No. I have no temple. I was sealed before shrines had names."
"Then why guide me here?"
> "Because you are still looking for Heaven… even after it left you."
The words struck harder than I expected.
I lowered my hand.
---
I spent the next few hours exploring the ruins.
There were five buildings still standing, more or less. A training hall missing its roof. A meditation garden swallowed by roots. A library stripped bare. A dormitory split in half by an old tree. And the shrine.
None of them held anything valuable. No scrolls. No weapons. Not even corpses.
Only the shape of what had been.
And yet, I stayed.
Each step through the ruins felt right. Not safe… not warm… but true.
I wasn't meant to be back at the village, cleaning stables or carrying buckets. I wasn't meant to wear a disciple's robe and stand in a line hoping for praise.
I was meant to be here.
Whatever "here" had become.
---
By evening, I found a hollow in the base of the mountain.
A small cave, mostly dry, with enough room to lie down. I gathered fallen leaves and old cloth from the ruins and built a nest of sorts. It wasn't soft. But it was mine.
The mark on my palm glowed again as the sun set. Not bright… but steady. I stared at it in the fading light.
"What now?" I asked the voice.
> "You are the vessel. The path is yours."
"That doesn't help much."
> "Then let me show you."
I blinked.
The cave spun.
---
Suddenly, I wasn't in the cave anymore.
Darkness wrapped around me like silk. Not cold. Not sharp. Just endless. The sky... if there was one, stretched out in every direction, deep and purple, laced with faint lines of grey light.
And before me stood a figure.
Tall. Wrapped in chains that pulsed with quiet heat. Its face was hidden. Its hands were open. Around its feet, a ring of stone symbols floated in a slow circle.
> "This is the contract," it said.
Its voice was the same. Still soft. Still deep. Still too large.
> "You are the anchor. I am the seal. Our bond shapes the path ahead."
I stepped closer.
"What do I gain?" I asked.
> "Power… drawn from what others feared. You will not follow their rules. You will not climb their ladders."
"And what do you take?"
The figure tilted its head.
> "Only what you would have lost anyway."
I didn't fully understand.
But I nodded.
The symbols flared once, then vanished.
---
When I opened my eyes, I was back in the cave.
My body trembled slightly. Not from fear. From awareness. I could still feel the symbols circling my thoughts, quiet and still.
The voice whispered once more.
> "Sleep now… while you are still human."
And then it was gone.
Not fully. Just… quieter.
Like it had gone back to rest.
---
I curled onto my side and closed my eyes.
The earth was cold beneath me. The air smelled like dust and stone. But my chest was warm. My breath was steady.
And in my palm… the mark glowed softly.
Heaven had turned its back on me.
But something older had reached out.
And I had taken its hand.
---