Time, which does not touch Tribal nor Alaya, passed like stone in erosion: slow, relentless, silent.
Kael and Lior lived a thousand years under the eternal gaze of their parents. And then... they ceased to live. They were not killed, but ended like stars that shine until they fade. Tribal and Alaya saw it all. They did not scream. They did not weep. But in their immortal eyes, something broke forever. Their children had generated life. Not of light, as before. But of flesh.
The original spark that Kael and Lior transferred to the first humans became diluted generation after generation. Now, men multiplied by conception. They were fragile, finite, inflammable with passion and hatred. Humans spread across the Earth like seeds carried by the wind. Some remained close to Tribal and Alaya, on plateaus where time seemed scarce and the soul was dense. These meditated, listened to the vibrations, learned silence. Others, however, headed to the extremities of the world: mountains, deserts, deep forests.
It was there that he appeared. Akasha. Not with fury, but with words. Whispers. Promises. He taught the cutting of stone, fire without prayer, the wheel, the spear. He taught how to wound. How to raise walls. How to subjugate. But he also taught healing, metallurgy, symbols.
His gift was ambiguous. And men, hungry for power, devoured the knowledge without chewing the wisdom. Kingdoms were born like wounds upon the Earth. Tribes warred. Gods were sculpted into distorted forms.
Tribal and Alaya watched. Not as gods, but as ancient trees seeing the grasses catch fire. Alaya still touched those who came with purity. She breathed dreams and protected seeds. But she did not interfere.
Tribal, however, began to grow restless. The wind brought echoes. Echoes of Akasha. His presence was no longer a trace. It was a pulse. In the heart of the world, Tribal felt an ancient brother moving among men, smiling like a serpent.
The lament he never cried for Kael and Lior now burned in his throat. He rose. He looked at the horizon. And said only: "He is near."
Alaya closed her eyes. She already knew. But she also knew it was not the time to hold him back. In the growing darkness of empires and in the silent light of those who still sought the source, the world was dividing unknowingly. And Tribal, the first, the eternal, took his first step towards the reunion that would change everything.