Lila looked at Alliot incredulously, ensuring he wasn't just trying to manipulate them.

  "What you're saying is that we shouldn't trust Ainorrh, right?" asked Lila, her brow furrowed. "But bones and bark, why should we trust any of these shamans? They're all high on their cliffs, looking down at the rest of us. One says they're straight as an arrow while pointing crooked fingers at the other. We'd be torch-blind to take either at their word without looking deeper."

  "We… I don't know," Alliot answered. "Probably we shouldn't. We should keep our own council. Talk with people. Gather opinions. Learn more about their interactions. Humans and enlightened. Different cities. That's what Khanorrh is pushing us to do. And I feel it is the right thing to do."

  "But what if our path of, hm… enlightenment… pushes us closer to, say, the Roots of the Mountain?" asked Aira. "I can feel the connection. And I think we have to explore it. Especially after I got my skill transformed with this ritual. But that will go against what he plainly prohibited us to do!"

  "I don't know," said Alliot, straightening his shoulders despite the uncertainty in his eyes. "But I will support any decision you make. We'll tread this path together."

  "By the fox's tail, I'm in!" said Lila, her eyes glowing with determination. "I was all in even before I… died. But now I don't have a way back and I still want to learn as much about this world as I can."

  Their words hung between them, a promise suspended in the gathering dusk. As shadows lengthened across their treehouse floor, each retreated to their own thoughts—Alliot to his challenged loyalties, Lila to her lost humanity.

  ***

  The moonlight filtered through the branches of their treehouse, painting silver patterns across the floor as Aira rose silently. Throughout the night, she had lain awake, her mind racing with possibilities while Lila's gentle breathing and Alliot's restless movements punctuated the darkness. The Rune on her wrist pulsed with growing insistence, each throb more urgent than the last—not painful, but impossible to ignore, like a compass needle straining toward true north.

  Her resolve had crystallized in those quiet hours—she would act alone, and she would act now. Khanorrh's warnings, meant to dissuade her, had instead illuminated the path forward with perfect clarity. Every prohibition, every boundary he'd set had only confirmed what her instincts already knew: the mountain held a secret meant for her alone. The ancient shaman wouldn't change his stance by morning; if anything, he might increase the guards or implement new barriers. This night represented her only window of opportunity, with the enlightened lulled into complacency by their earlier excursion to the caves. No one would expect her to return so soon, to dare so much.

  The Rune flared once more, and Aira's decision solidified. The time for caution had passed.

  "I'm going to the caves," she said. "Alone. I have to connect with the Roots of the Mountain. The Rune is pushing me, and I can't ignore it. Not only that, the System itself put me on that path with the upgrade to my skill."

  Alliot and Lila exchanged worried glances. "Aira, let us come with you," Lila urged, gripping her friend's arm. "By the fox's tail, you don't have to do that it alone! We're sturdy as old pines together—caught in the wind, but standing strong. We're a team, aren't we?"

  "I appreciate that," Aira replied, her gaze softening as she looked at her friends. "But it's safer if I go alone. I'd be much faster. Even if I can't hide from the watchers, I can probably outpace them. And it isn't the only reason for you to stay behind. The energy down there is intense, and I can't risk you getting hurt. I need to focus completely on what I have to do. You are still a newbie. And Alliot air affinity will make him a liability. Even if he had improved in the past few days, it's not enough. Just stay safe here. Especially when the angry shamans come. You'll be here to distract them."

  Alliot stepped forward, his expression conflicted. "Are you sure about this? If something goes wrong…"

  "It will go wrong," Aira said. "At least in a way that this city will be a disturbed hornet's nest in a few hours. But this is something I have to do. Trust me."

  Reluctantly, Alliot and Lila agreed, though their concern was palpable. They watched as Aira gathered her thoughts, then turned and headed back toward the mountain. Toward the entrance to the cave.

  ***

  Aira plunged into the labyrinth of tunnels, each step taking her deeper into the mountain's embrace. The air grew noticeably thicker with each level she descended, from mere dampness to a cloying heaviness that coated her lungs and slowed her movements. Cold moisture beaded on the walls and dripped onto her shoulders, each drop carrying an electric charge that sent shivers across her skin.

  Fifty meters down, the natural stone gave way to passageways that couldn't have been carved by any tool—the walls too smoothly curved, the junctions too precisely angled. The roots that had appeared as mere decorations near the entrance now pulsed with undeniable purpose, their glow intensifying from gentle amber to vibrant emerald that cast eerie, shifting shadows. They twisted and writhed almost imperceptibly when she wasn't looking directly at them, rearranging themselves like living sentinels.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  By the hundred-meter mark, the oppressive energy pressed against her like an ocean's worth of pressure, making each movement a deliberate act of will. Her ears popped, then filled with a low, constant drone that seemed to whisper unintelligible words just below the threshold of understanding. The walls no longer merely pulsed—they breathed in perfect harmony with her heartbeat, as if the mountain was synchronizing with her, testing her resolve, measuring her worth against some ancient standard known only to itself.

  The path forked unexpectedly, then forked again, passages doubling back on themselves in ways that defied physical space. Aira could swear she passed the same junction three times before realizing the mountain was testing her—not just her strength, but her determination. She turned inward, trusting the Rune's guidance over her mortal senses, and the labyrinth seemed to sigh in reluctant approval as the true path revealed itself.

  "I won't back down," she whispered to herself. But the hum of the energy that surrounded her was too loud for Aira to hear her inner voice.

  The Rune pulsed in response, reassuring her that she was on the right path. Spreading cozy warmth from her wrist and all over her body.

  After what felt like hours, Aira reached a massive hall, larger than she could have imagined. The cavern stretched out before her, its vastness dwarfing even the valley of Ziemrot. The walls, like the rest of the cave system, were covered with pulsating magical roots. But here, they glowed with a brilliant, ethereal light, radiating almost overwhelming power. The air in the hall was thick with energy, crackling like a storm about to break. Aira could feel it in her bones, in every fiber of her being—the ancient power of the mountain, waiting, watching. It was as if the mountain was alive. Its very essence laid bare before her, daring her to take the next step.

  Aira stood at the center of the hall, the energy swirling around her, almost crushing in its intensity. But amidst the chaos, she sensed something familiar—her Rune. It was guiding her, whispering instructions through the magical bond they shared.

  The chamber pulsed with a rhythm that matched nothing in nature—too slow for a heartbeat, too deliberate for random fluctuation. Aira felt the air grow thick, not just with power but with awareness. The mountain was watching her, judging her intrusion. Tiny stones skittered across the floor without being touched, roots quivered against walls, and somewhere in the distance, a sound like massive gears turning echoed through the stone. Whatever slumbered at the core of this place was stirring now, its attention fixed squarely on her. There would be no second chances.

  With the Rune's guidance, Aira began to draw an arcane circle on the ground. As she traced the intricate symbols, the magical power around her shifted, reacting to her every movement. The energy became more focused, more directed, and soon Aira was entirely consumed by the ritual. She felt the Roots of the Mountain extending their reach through her, granting her a vision that stretched far beyond the cavern.

  Through this expanded awareness, Aira sensed every being connected to the mountain's energy. The enlightened of Ziemrot glowed brightly, their connection to the power source undeniable. Even the humans, though not as attuned and spread further away, were present in her awareness, their life forces flickering like distant stars.

  Then she felt it—a commotion in Ziemrot. Khanorrh and the other shamans were moving swiftly, their energy signatures like a storm gathering on the horizon. They had sensed the disturbance and were coming in force to stop her.

  But it was too late. Aira had reached the point of no return.

  The final phase of the ritual was upon her. The energy around her was ready to be transmuted, to be shaped into something new. Aira knew now that the process wouldn't harm the power source; it was too vast, too limitless to be diminished. But what she was about to create should grant her a new level of attunement—something beyond anything she had ever experienced.

  With a deep breath, Aira made the final push. She let the energy flow through her, through her Rune, allowing her changed Energy Manipulation skill to take control. The power surged, filling her to the brim, and then began to condense, focusing on a single point within the arcane circle.

  The air split with a sound beyond hearing—a pressure that made Aira's teeth ache and the roots along the wall writhe like living things. Energy coalesced at the center of her circle, no longer flowing but spiraling inward with violent intent, colors bleeding from green to amber to deepest emerald. The mountain itself seemed to hold its breath, the very stone groaning beneath her feet as power condensed into a single, blinding point.

  When the light receded, floating there, suspended between her outstretched palms, was a fragment of something both familiar and utterly alien.

  The Shard.

  It was a rough, greenish-brown piece of solid material with intricate vine-like patterns etched across its surface. It felt dense and grounding as if it held the weight of the earth itself. There was a faint vibration within it, like a pulse of life deep within the soil.

  Aira reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as they closed around the Shard. It pulsed with the earth's rhythm itself, and Aira could feel its immense power coursing through her the moment she touched it. The connection was instantaneous as if the Shard had been waiting for her all along—a bond between her and the very essence of the mountain.

  With the remnants of the ritual's power still coursing through her veins, Aira's heightened senses detected the approaching storm. Khanorrh led the charge, his energy signature burning like molten stone, edged with a fury that made the very air crackle. Behind him, at least six other shamans followed—not merely approaching, but converging from different tunnels, their collective power bending the mountain's natural currents into a closing net.

  She felt their shock when they sensed what she had done, their disbelief rippling through the elemental flow like stones dropped into a still pond. Two of them faltered momentarily, perhaps intimidated by the sheer audacity of her act. But Khanorrh pushed forward with redoubled determination, his presence now so strong she could almost see him through the solid rock, his ancient power carving through the barriers between them like roots splitting stone.

  Words from his earlier warning echoed: "The mountain crushes the foolish first..." But Aira felt no fear, only a strange sense of anticipation. The Shard pulsed in her hand, warm and alive, responding to her touch as if greeting an old friend. This fragment of the mountain's heart—her prize, her key—was now inseparably bound to her.

  Aira slipped the Shard into her pouch, its warmth seeping through the fabric against her side. Something fundamental had shifted, not just in the mountain, but in her. The ritual was complete, and she was forever changed—whether for better or worse remained to be seen.

  The tunnel behind her rumbled as Khanorrh's power lashed out, stone cracking in his approach. Earth against wind, ancient against visitor, guardian against trespasser. Aira turned to face the entrance, shoulders squared.

  Now, it was time to face the consequences.

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