In the Melune trade tower, a pair of orange legs dashed at full speed, knocking over stalls along the way. Behind the creature, a group of vendors chased it, hurling insults as they watched it escape yet again: the same lizard as always.
Before they could catch it, the animal turned a corner and vanished.
Outside, under a second-floor balcony, a boy waited. He tapped the ground with the tip of his foot, impatient, his head lowered to avoid attracting attention. The wind blowing in from the plaza played with his gray hair, revealing a few strands of white. Eden frowned, fixing his gaze on the balcony.
"Ahh… I said last time was the last," he muttered, feeling his impatience grow.
Suddenly, from behind a curtain and with a failed flip off the balcony, the lizard crashed against the roof of a house. Still wrapped in the drapes it had leapt through, it rolled and slid until it fell right in front of Eden. The boy flinched at the sudden thud.
"F… damn it, Mielchor," he murmured, approaching the motionless bundle with caution. "I told you: the roof, and from there…"
Then the lump jumped, and from between the knots, Mielchor stuck his head out. His eyes wide and his tongue lolling out, he held up over his head a huge honey jar, proud of his glorious heist.
"Mielchor, Mielchor!" Eden shook him desperately. "Quick, this isn't the time for your victory poses!"
From the balcony, a vendor pointed at them furiously, shouting that he was the thief. At the same time, footsteps and voices rumbled from inside the tower, drawing closer.
Barely recovering, the lizard shook his head, sized up the situation, and tossed the honey jar at Eden. He caught it purely by instinct.
The tower doors burst open: guards and furious vendors lunged toward them. With the jar in his hands, Eden slowly turned his gaze toward the crowd.
"Run!" he shouted, shoving the jar back at Mielchor before taking off.
Both fled into an alley toward Alabard's central plaza.
"Kuh, kuh," Mielchor coughed.
Eeden shot him a sideways glance. The moment he saw that mischievous grin, he clicked his fingers and brought a hand to his chest—signal to throw the jar. But in that tiny distraction, neither noticed the carriage rushing toward them, dragged by a pair of krováxid: colossal crabs, nearly a meter and a half tall, bearing shells of hardened, lightweight rock. Their legs, coated in a black mineral, clattered against the cobblestones with a harsh, dry sound.
With a swift motion, Mielchor hurled the jar over the carriage just as both slid underneath it. The vessel dropped onto Eden, who failed to catch it: its weight crushed him against the ground, knocking the air out of his lungs.
"You son of a…" he gasped, with what little breath he had left, pushing the jar off his chest.
The container was still intact, and the carriage had halted their pursuers. Mielchor leapt forward. He puffed his cheeks and, with a spit, released a thick curtain of smoke that blanketed almost the entire plaza.
"Good, good… let's go!" Eden said, getting back to his feet and grabbing the jar.
With a nudge of his foot, he signaled Mielchor that it was time to leave. Without wasting another second, they melted into the crowd.
Night fell behind them. They ran until the lights of Alabard faded little by little in the distance. They crossed empty fields where only the dry grass creaked in the breeze, and passed through moss-covered ruins: forgotten remains of a dead age.
The forest was close now. When they finally felt safe, Eden slumped against a crumbling wall, panting.
"That was close… way too close."
Mielchor, proud, hugged the jar against his scaly chest. Eden looked at him with exhaustion, and a short laugh escaped between his teeth.
"Alright, you earned it. But this is where we part."
The creature tilted his head, confused. Eden petted him gently.
"Remember I'm leaving tomorrow. So either you find a way to get honey for free—without stealing," he chuckled breathlessly, "or get ready to spend some time in jail."
Mielchor snorted with a childish grunt before vanishing into the shadows of the coming night. Eden was left alone, wrapped in the weight of silence.
The full moon hung high above; the city's clamor faded into nothing but a distant murmur. Eden walked along the rocky path, the ruins seeming to dissolve into the darkness with each step. He moved absently, holding something in his hands.
"Finally… I have enough money to leave this city," he murmured, exhausted, counting coins under the silver light.
The count revealed twenty-seven silver coins and one hundred fifty-eight copper ones. Not a fortune, but enough to keep a family of seven alive for almost three months.
Even so, satisfaction barely flickered on his face. In his eyes lingered a shadow of sorrow… and disappointment?
"This isn't what they taught me…" his voice cracked, weighed down. "What would they think of me?"
The words echoed in his mind like a persistent resonance.
The ruins had been far behind for a while, and the rocky path was nearing its end. Eden diverted into the forest, making sure no one followed. The moon only barely pierced through the thick canopy.
He jogged for a few minutes until reaching a clearing. There he breathed in relief: his belongings were still hidden beneath a mound of leaves, at the foot of a tree beside the river.
He pulled out a light armor and his old backpack, worn by travel and time. Inside, he kept only a few possessions. Among them, a long dagger: an improvised loot he'd picked up when an adventurer dropped it during a fight in some tavern.
Before lying down, he approached the river and submerged his head. He scrubbed his hair until the black dye dissolved in the water. When he lifted his head, he froze: under the moonlight, his mane shone white as snow.
"Tomorrow we start again," he thought, lying down on a makeshift bed of leaves and branches. He stretched his hand toward the starry sky, as if wanting to catch the stars between his fingers.
In silence, he went over his plan: leave Alabard and head to Celestia, one of the nation's capitals. With a final sigh, he closed his eyes and surrendered to sleep.
The next morning, he packed his few belongings. The coins jingled in his jacket pocket before he adjusted his armor, a simple polished steel cuirass protecting his chest, shoulders, belly, and a pair of bracers.
He sprang to his feet and returned to the main road. He had taken a detour the day before, but now urgency pushed him toward his destination: the Alabard guild. There he needed directions to reach Celestia.
On the way, he was surprised not to run into Mielchor, as usually happened. That unexpected absence left him slightly uneasy, though he tried to ignore it.
Before leaving, he bought supplies: a canteen and a travel ration—bars, nuts, and dried tomatoes—for fifteen coppers. If he rationed it well, it would last five or six days.
With everything stored in his backpack, he headed to the guild. At the reception, an elf with hair black as obsidian, just a bit shorter than him, greeted him with a cordial smile.
"Good morning, young man. How can I help you?" she asked, leaning over the counter.
"Good morning," he replied, a bit nervous. "Could you give me a map or some directions to get to Celestia?"
"Of course. One moment, I'll bring you a map of the area," said the elf, turning around to enter a back room.
While he waited, Eden's eyes wandered aimlessly along the polished surface of the counter. Then a raspy voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Hey! You, the one with the white hair. I heard you're heading north, to Celestia, right?"
Eden's heart skipped a beat. He turned to meet the piercing gaze of a half-orc with orange skin who, if not for the unusual tone, could have passed for human.
"Yes… why do you ask?" he said, trying to sound firm.
"My group and I are also heading to Celestia. Want to join? We're traveling by carriage."
The offer was as sudden as his appearance. A dozen days alone, on foot, with all the risks… or traveling with strangers. The idea was as tempting as it was terrifying, and Eden stayed silent a moment too long.
"…Sure. I'll go with you," he finally answered. The decision came out almost by reflex, without weighing the options again.
At that moment, a hand rested on his shoulder. Eden turned: the receptionist had returned.
"Here's the map of the nearby areas. Celestia is here," she said, unfolding the parchment and marking the main roads with her finger.
Eden reached for a few bronze coins to pay, but she stopped him with a gesture.
"No need," she smiled, rolling the map before handing it to him.
"Thank you very much, miss," he replied, returning the smile and extending his hand. The elf let out a soft laugh and shook it with unexpected strength.
Back in front of the half-orc, Eden swallowed.
"When do we leave? And… how much is the carriage fee?" he asked, hoping to hear he wouldn't have to pay anything.
"We're leaving in a few hours, before night falls, and since someone else already paid for the last carriage, there's nothing to pay," he answered, quite relaxed as he stretched. "We'll be with the group at that table," he added, pointing to a table occupied by five people.
After thanking the receptionist again, he walked to the table where the group he'd be traveling with was waiting. As he approached, he noticed they were a varied bunch: two dwarves, an elf with a bow and arrows, a human in a green cloak with a staff, and a cat larger than usual, napping in the center of the table.
He grabbed a chair from another table to sit in the only spot with space, between the elf and one of the dwarves. He stayed there for a while until the elf on his left turned to look at him.
"And you?" she asked with some food still in her mouth.
Eden tilted his head, confused, waiting for her to say more. For a moment he simply watched her. She looked young, maybe only a few years older than him. Her brown hair fell over lively green eyes; her skin, white but not pale, stood out under the dark leather of her outfit.
"What's your name and all that?" she insisted, still chewing.
"Uh… my name is Eden and…" his voice trailed off.
He didn't know what else to say. It had been so long since he'd had a normal conversation that the words seemed to flee from him.
"Mm-hm," the elf swallowed. "And your ethereal affinity, element, or whatever you want to call it?"
"My affinity?" he repeated, buying time to think. "It's… physical enhancement." He said it with obvious doubt, as if afraid he might be lying without realizing it.
"Though honestly," he added quickly, shrugging, "it's pretty weak. I barely understand how to use ether."
The elf watched him in silence. Suddenly, her eyes took on a red glow that lasted only a few seconds before fading.
"Magical analysis," Eden thought, shivering. "Shit… I hope she doesn't notice I'm missing that."
"Mm-hm," she nodded, taking another bite. "You've got little ether. I'd say about as much as a kid smaller than you."
"Oh… I didn't know." Eden stayed quiet for a few seconds before forcing a smile. "Well, I guess there's not much to do."
"There's always something to do." The dwarf on his right surprised him with his voice.
Eeden turned toward him.
"Huh?"
"Sorry to butt in, kid," said the dwarf, raising a hand in a peaceful gesture. "Name's Gundar. And what I meant is that the amount you have can grow… with time and effort. We call that an ether vessel: the limit of energy your body can produce. We all have one—human, elf, dwarf. And with the years, it changes. Nobody really knows why."
"Bah! It's an ether core, or mana if you want to speak properly, you stubborn dwarf." The elf raised her voice while taking another sip of beer.
"At least I'm trying to give the boy some advice, unlike you, who only discourages him." Gundar didn't even look at her, but his tone was firm.
"Advice?" she shot back, leaning closer. "There's no proof that the core grows beyond natural development. That's not advice, that's fantasy!" She tapped his shoulder with her finger.
"You stink," the dwarf growled, brushing her hand away. "And stop touching me, drunkard."
The elf frowned and huffed.
"Guys, it doesn't matter," Eden intervened, raising his hands between them without daring to touch either. "Really, let's drop it."
But his words fell on deaf ears. The argument went on between insults and snorts. As he watched them, Eden heard a soft sound to his right. Another dwarf, different from Gundar, was looking at him from the next table. He gave him a friendly wave, inviting him closer.
"They're really going at it," he laughed, taking a drink.
"Are they always like this?" Eden pointed toward the ongoing fight.
The dwarf wiped his mouth, covering it as he yawned.
"Yeah. I always tease them saying the ones who fight end up loving each other when they're done." He took a long drink, finishing it. "Anyway, name's Grumblin, and the bearded one over there"—pointing at Gundar—"is my older brother. I heard they're saying you can't improve yourself because you don't know how to use ether, right?"
"Great," Eden muttered with fake enthusiasm. "This is getting out of hand." He said it almost under his breath.
"Well, let's go outside, I think I can help with that." With a hop, he jumped off the chair and headed out, motioning for him to follow.
"He doesn't even know me, why is he trying to help? But… I don't feel anything bad from him," Eden whispered, covering his mouth with his hand.
He was somewhat perplexed by Grumblin's sudden offer to help. But he had already gone too far with this lie, so in his mind, he had no choice but to keep playing along and hope they wouldn't find him out.
"Why do you want to help me? What would you gain from it?" he asked as he followed Grumblin, already a few steps outside the guild.
Grumblin kept walking, scratching the back of his neck.
"Well, I'm trying to follow in my father's footsteps. He…" he exhaled. "He used to say that if you're a good person without expecting anything in return, you'll be rewarded. I never paid attention to that way of thinking, even thought it was stupid, but after he passed, it finally hit me. Now, whenever I can, I try to help whoever needs it." There was a silence of several seconds as they walked, during which Grumblin lowered the hand he had lifted earlier. "I wish I hadn't been an idiot in the last moments I spent with him." His fists clenched tightly in frustration.
After hearing Grumblin's words, Eden felt a pang of regret. "I shouldn't have asked," he thought. Along with the regret came a wave of anxiety. He wondered whether his question about what Grumblin gained from helping him might have sounded like he was looking down on his help.
"All right, I think this place will do," Grumblin said as they arrived at a small park a few meters from the guild. Before Eden could respond, he lay down on the grass. "Okay," he sighed calmly, "make yourself comfortable."
"Uh, okay." With some hesitation, Eden sat in front of Grumblin, less than half a meter away. "So… what now?"
"Close your eyes, relax, and don't think about anything. Absolutely nothing."
Following Grumblin's instructions, Eden closed his eyes, put his hands together, relaxed his shoulders, and let out a long sigh as he tried to clear his mind.
"Is this it? What's next?" he asked, trying not to lose focus.
"Visualize yourself. How you imagine you are—your being, your soul."
"Okay… I'll try."
Nervous, he began imagining what he would look like. Slowly, he formed a mental image of himself by gathering all his features: messy white hair, white skin, a few small scars on his back, another on his left ear, and his red pupils. As he built the image, he began to see something inside him: what looked like a mass? A liquid? It was fluorescent white, floating inside him, in the center of his chest, where his heart would be. It looked like a sphere, but its shape became unstable at times, deforming.
"I see… I see something glowing inside me, something white," he said with intrigue. "What is it? Is that ether?"
"Well, yes, that's ether… or, well, it should be," Grumblin answered, sounding unsure.
"Why do you say that?"
"It's nothing. Now try extracting that energy from there."
"Do I extend my hand and try to touch it?"
"No, no. Try extracting it… with your mind, your will. I don't know how to explain it," he said, disappointed.
"Okay, I'll do that."
He took a deep breath and focused on his ether core. He tried to feel his connection to it, attempting to influence it with his mind and his will. Slowly, he extended his hands—not the ones of his soul nor his physical body, but the ones of his will, from where he visualized everything. As he brought his fingers closer, trying to touch the core, he watched them pass through his chest without feeling anything. As soon as his hands touched the ether it released, it began to travel along his arm, from the tips of his fingers up to his forearm, quickly. In that plane, his whole hand and forearm shone intensely white, while his physical hand became noticeably lighter. Grumblin, witnessing all of this, watched small white sparks sprout from Eden's left hand, fading just as quickly.
Driven by curiosity, he tried to push his hand deeper into that strange and new energy. As he did, all that energy was transferred to his hand, which in that plane he saw overflowing with power, releasing white sparks along with a strong glow. Meanwhile, Grumblin saw the boy's hand being covered in white ether that slowly took the shape of claws at the tips of his fingers and covered the rest of the hand as if it were armor. This armor fell apart in the form of roots extending toward his forearm.
"Good! Now try moving," he said with excitement as he stepped to the side, getting out of the way.
Eeden lifted his arm, which had been resting on his lap. Although he tried to make a small movement, his hand moved at great speed and, with it, a slash of ether stored in his arm was released. The slash passed just centimeters from Grumblin, who barely caught it out of the corner of his eye. Because of the angle at which Eden moved his arm, the slash quickly gained height, vanishing into the clear sky.
"So? How did I do?" he asked, his words full of excitement as he hesitantly opened his eyes.
When he opened them, he saw the tree in front of him, a few meters away, slowly start to slide, revealing a cut that split it in half—a completely clean cut.
And behind the split trunk stood Mielchor, covering his head, terrified after almost being cut due to his carelessness. He had been secretly following Eden ever since he entered Alabard, keeping track of his every step because he didn't want to be separated from his good friend.
"I-I did that?!" he asked, with a mix of enthusiasm and doubt, pointing at the tree.
"O-Of course, but... are you sure your affinity is enhancement?" Grumblin asked incredulously. "Are you sure it's not something like lightning or slashes? I mean, when you were focusing, your arm was covered in white ether and releasing tiny sparks. Though, the lightning element has a blue or light-blue outline," he whispered.
"Uhh..." Eden lowered his head for a moment. "He helped me," "I shouldn't lie to him," "What if he tells everyone I don't have an element?", "I don't think he's a bad person..." All those thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant, repeating over and over, making him more nervous. "You know..." he stayed silent for a moment. "Grumblin, how do I even put this... ha, ha, ha..." he laughed nervously for a few seconds and then let out a long sigh.
"Relax, if it's some important secret, it's fine if you can't tell—" Grumblin interrupted.
"Sorry, it's just that..." as he spoke, he shrugged and closed his eyes, bracing for a hostile reaction. "I can't explain it. I'm just... clumsy with my magic," he said with very questionable confidence.
A silence stretched between them, one that could have lasted an eternity as Eden waited for Grumblin's reaction. The dwarf searched for the right words—words that didn't seem to exist in this situation, at least not for him. It was something unheard of, something he had never witnessed, nor read about, nor even imagined. All he felt was astonishment and confusion.
"Well," he let out a long sigh, "I honestly don't know what to say, kid. It's... weird? I've never heard of anything like this. I heard about an ancient king who couldn't use his copy magic at all until he was seventeen but... from what I read, he wasn't even able to use ether or extract it." He fell silent for a moment, bringing his hand to his mouth, murmuring something. "I don't know how the others would react if they found out. Did you feel anything strange when your arm got covered in mana?"
"Uhhh, yeah, it felt light, like it was floating on water, and even though I tried to move it slowly, it moved quic—" A small drop of blood started dripping from his nose as he felt a cold sensation spread through his body, like he had plunged into frozen water, giving him chills. He felt dizzy, watching his vision slowly blur. "Grumblin, what's goi—" He fell to the ground, still conscious but unable to speak clearly due to the dizziness.
"You probably used too much ether or ran out of it. Try lying on your side so the blood doesn't go into your lungs, and rest until the dizziness goes away."
Several minutes passed after Eden collapsed from the excessive use of ether. Grumblin stayed seated at the foot of a nearby tree, out of Eden's line of sight, carving a piece of wood with a small knife he'd taken from the tree that had been cut earlier.
"I think I'm fine now," Eden tried to stand. It took some effort, but he managed to stay on his feet.
"Looks like you're feeling better. Try walking, let's see if you don't fall flat on your face," Grumblin said, mocking him.
Even standing was an achievement, given how his body felt like it was tipping in every possible direction. His head was still spinning. He stayed still for a moment after hearing Grumblin's words, trying to clear his mind. When he took a few steps, he immediately collapsed to his knees, catching himself with his hands on the ground.
"Grumblin, I don't think I'll be able to walk properly for a while, could you—" he was interrupted.
"Call me Grum, kid. And help you? Of course," he replied with a smile as he stood up to help Eden back to his feet.
Once inside the guild, the atmosphere wasn't any better. The argument that had started shortly before Grumblin and Eden left the table had only gotten worse.
"The ether vessel can grow!" someone shouted angrily.
"Don't confuse the boy with your stupid beliefs!" the elf replied, glaring at him. "Just like you say a dwarf only knows how to smash metal with a hammer!" she added sarcastically.
"Ugh," Grumblin grunted in annoyance. "At least I'm not one of those tall, chivalrous, elegant elves with hundreds of years who don't even know how to talk to a kid," he said ironically. "Anyway, I don't see any around. I only see a drunk and irritating elf..."
He was interrupted by a loud slam on the table, from the man who earlier had invited Eden to join them.
"Come on, Vairon, let me crush this tiny, minuscule, pathetic hammer-lov—" she tried insulting Gundar as she attempted to punch him but was cut off.
"Tsk," Vairon clicked his tongue. "Nexus, bind to..." He raised one hand toward the elf while looking for a spot to throw her. Upon finding a wall where she wouldn't cause collateral damage, he pointed his other hand at it. "Bind to wall, pull."
The elf was yanked toward the wall at considerable speed. When she hit it, she remained immobile for a few seconds, stuck several centimeters above the ground.
"Let me go! Let me go already!" she shouted, struggling to free herself. "Why only me?! The dwarf started it!" she screamed, kicking.
"Because I heard everything, gods. Is she always like this? Or only when she's...?" he asked Gundar.
"Vairon, let me down already!" she yelled from the other side of the room, interrupting the conversation.
"She's always annoying, but when she drinks, she becomes unbearable," Gundar sighed. "Leave her there until she stops wanting to fight." He sat again and took another drink. "Tell me, why invite the kid? I doubt he's any good at fighting or magic. You heard him, didn't you? He said he doesn't even know how to use his enhancement magic properly."
Vairon burst out laughing at the question. After a moment, wiping the tears from his eyes, he asked:
"You good at reading people? Dwarf perks?" he said still laughing—until he saw Gundar's expression and stopped. "Sorry, bad joke. Honestly, I don't have a real reason." He paused for a moment. "Just... why not? If I were in his place, I would've liked to travel for free too."
"As the leader who should make the important decisions, you're the most reckless one, inviting a rookie," Gundar grumbled as he drank.
"Would you have rejected him?"
"No. If he had asked to join, I wouldn't have rejected him. But inviting him myself? I wouldn't have done that."
"And I'm the reckless one?" Vairon tried not to laugh. "Are you embarrassed to invite a rookie to the group?" he asked in a condescending tone.
A smile appeared on Gundar's face.
"Let's drop it. Anyway, whatever happens to the kid, or whatever he does, you're responsible," he said before drinking again.
After a while, Grumblin and Eden walked back in. Eden still couldn't walk without support. Vairon, seeing them arrive, motioned for them to sit.
"Did you do a test fight or something?" asked the feline sitting at the center of the table. "Snow boy ran out of energy," he added, looking at Vairon.
"T-The cat talks?!" Eden shouted, pointing at him.
The group burst into laughter.
"Yes, I talk. And better than you, kid," the feline said proudly as he walked around the table.
"Ah, sorry. It's just... I've never seen a talking cat," Eden said, slowly reaching out, trying to touch the feline's whiskers.
"And I'm not just any cat, let that be clear, snow boy."
"But my name is Ed—"
"Snow boy! And I'm not a cat, I'm a Felyne, a race of—"
A chunk of meat thrown by Vairon landed on his face, cutting him off.
"Back to the question, kid. Did you two fight?"
"Not at all, we just..." Grumblin stopped, hesitating.
"We were testing a new way to use my magic! Right, Grum?" Eden nudged him repeatedly, trying to get him to respond.
"Yeah, we found something interesting. A new spell he can cast."
A waitress approached the table, asking if they wanted to order anything else. Vairon turned to ask for more food and drinks.
In furious whispers, Eden grabbed Grumblin.
"What new spell?! I don't even know how I did that," he hissed, shaking him.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry, it slipped out," Grumblin said nervously.
"And I can only use it once, Grum! Only once! After that I collapse!"
Maybe Vairon hadn't heard them. But others at the table had.
"A spell, huh, snow boy? Good that you can develop new things," the Felyne commented from across the table.
"Young man, I know it's none of my business, but... are you sure you're not an Arcanist? It's strange for Combatants to cast spells," Gundar added.
Without knowing what to say, Eden stumbled over his own words, while Grumblin tried to explain, making things worse.
Across the room, the elf who had been stuck to the wall finally regained mobility; the spell had worn off after a few hours. Now conscious, she approached Vairon to confront him.
Gundar slammed his mug against the table, and the chatter died instantly, as if someone had shut a door. His gaze, as hard as the stone he used to carve, fixed itself on Eden.
"Listen closely, kid. If you really cast a spell... even if you swear you don't know how, that's no small thing. Magic doesn't appear out of nowhere," he said, moving his fingers as if searching for words in the air. "It comes from within, from that center you carry without knowing... your vessel, or your core, as the elf says."
He took a sip of ale, then continued, calmer.
"When that energy crosses your alchemical circle—that seal no one sees but everyone has—it becomes mana. That's what we use to move the world in our favor. A combatant lets it flow through the body: strengthens it, makes it faster, tougher... depending on what they aim for."
Gundar stared into the bottom of his mug, thoughtful.
"That's what I understood, at least," he muttered, as if reluctant to admit it. "But casting a spell... that's a different matter. You don't just feel it; you shape it, give it structure and purpose. And you're saying you did it without knowing how."
His eyes weighed on Eden with doubt.
"That's dangerous."
Eden swallowed dryly. Grumblin seemed ready to speak up, but Gundar raised his hand without looking at him.
"I'm not trying to scare you, kid," he went on, voice lower. "But the core doesn't forgive whims. If you force a path you don't understand, you'll break long before you advance. Every talent is different, like a fingerprint: some are born to strengthen, others to create... and a few, to destroy."
The silence that followed was broken by the creaking wheels of the carriage, already prepared at the inn entrance. Vairon stood up with a tired smile and told the group to get moving.
One by one, they stepped outside, until Eden—still hearing Gundar's words echoing in his mind—climbed aboard. The night air was heavy with moisture and the promise of travel. The carriage departed with the creak of wood and the rhythmic clatter of hooves, while inside it grew a question no one dared to answer: What exactly was Eden, and what price would he have to pay for the power he had shown by accident?