Soren sat plainly on a bench overlooking the busy street. Civilians ca and went, carriages dropped off passengers and loaded up cargo, and a couple of food stalls across from him yelled out their cheap prices as the countless marinated scents mixed and slithered through the crowd.
But none of these distracted him from his thoughts. No, his mind was already eclipsed by sothing else entirely. Sothing that shook him to his core.
“What… the hell?”
Even now, he still couldn’t believe it. The parting words Gunther left him.
Soren’s gaze lowered as he thought back to that fleeting mont. It all happened so quickly, leaving him more puzzled and fearful than he had ever been during the Crimson Ritual. They reverberated in his mind even now—words that should have never been uttered by soone like Gunther.
“The chessboard of fate, huh? What an interesting analogy.
“Changing the path of the orbits—truly an incredible feat. Though, not without a heavy cost… It seems you are still unaware of the ripples you have created.
“But since you plan to journey the continent—I will leave you with this one piece of advice.
“Reach the summit of Mount Tolarion. The answer you seek will be there.”
Before Soren could even reply, the world turned dark for a mont, then he found himself sitting on the bench alone. The sll of rotting wood mixing with alcohol, the visages of broken down shelves lined with crudely made fakes… It was all gone now—as if he had never even been there.
His visit to Gunther’s store seed like it was all a lie…
Logically, none of this should make sense. Nowhere in their conversation did the topic of fate ever co up. And what was even more terrifying was the phrasing itself:
The Chessboard of Fate… That was the term he had used to describe his divination dium. And he later used it as an analogy for how fate itself operated and treated the beings it manipulates… An analogy he only really told three people, Tazzith, The Records itself, and… Silmar, the Whispering Dream.
“Did… Did Gunther personally witness my conversation with Silmar? No, that’s impossible.”
There was no way he wouldn’t have noticed him. His Soul Realm’s inherent ability (the Hermit’s Eye), allows him to see anything within the periter of his Soul Realm. And since he could pierce through the veil of this world using [Eyes of the Fairy], even immaterial things should be within his notice…
But then again, Gunther was an anomaly to begin with. During his visit at the rundown shop, [Eyes of the Fairy] failed to even register a status page for the old man. It was as if his existence was shrouded in fog and secrecy. Although he found it suspicious, he assud it was due to so magitech device or so other technique he wasn’t aware of—which only really elevated his status in Soren’s mind as soone extraordinary, but nothing more than that.
Now however…
Soren stood up and adjusted his silk cone hat. “Let’s revisit the store…” He glanced around for the street sign—Julien Aetolus IV Boulevard. It was about six blocks away from the familiar alleyway. His pace remained steady, but his heart wanted to exit his chest. Every step taken toward that shadowy lane left him more and more anxious.
At the sa ti, his mind continued its own race. His Echo of Mind endlessly lingered on the parting words Gunther said before the world turned dark.
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Mount Tolarion… Answers…
What kind of answers? Was it an answer to the question that led him to this world in the first place? Or sothing else he wasn’t aware of? And the destination itself was also strange… Mount Tolarion, also known as the Estuary of the Stars. A mountain so tall, its summit reaches the celestial heavens above...
From the books he had read, Soren had always found it ridiculous. How could a mountain ever reach outer space? It was sothing beyond the realm of imagination—he found it hard to believe. But at the sa ti, he had already adapted to the ways of this world… Even if it seed illogical, this world itself was never logical in the first place.
“Reach the summit he says… Does that old man want to die?”
Scaling a normal mountain was one thing, but to reach the summit of a mountain that’s said to breach the atmosphere of the planet itself… How would he even manage to make it up there? Let alone the lack of oxygen, he would also need to keep an eye out for roaming Spirit Beasts… And there was no way to know what kind of abominations called the upper ridges of the mountain ho—records of such voyages past the Three Temples of Stars were extrely rare to find.
His frown deepened as he turned another corner. The closer he got to his destination, the more frantic his steps beca. He needed to see Gunther again and question him, but the fear of approaching sothing he once thought of as familiar and safe was eating at his sanity…
Maybe the best outco would be to simply turn around and pretend that nothing happened.
No, this isn’t sothing I can forget…
His instincts were screaming to find out more… It felt as if his life depended on it.
As he approached the final corner, the familiar alleyway ca into view. Soren gripped his wand tightly and slowly expanded his Soul Realm with each step. He swallowed his final bits of hesitation and faced the shadows.
What he saw left him stunned. A cold chill wrapped itself around his neck and back as he resisted the urge to fall to his knees.
Gunther’s store… was gone.
The rotten shack and all its disastrously nailed wooden planks, the scattered bits of trash and broken bottles, the crudely crafted wooden sign that was lazily placed on top of an empty barrel…
All of it was gone. As if the store had never existed in the first place.
“This…”
He had no words to describe his fear.
In the distance, he saw another figure that was sowhat familiar. It was a burly, middle aged man with a receding hairline and a scar on his left eye. A sword was sheathed to his back that he would quickly grip from ti to ti to threaten people with.
Soren swiftly crossed the street and tapped his shoulder.
“Huh? The hell do you want, kid?”
He doesn’t recognize ? Didn’t I just…
Seeing him not respond, the man clicked his tongue and shoved Soren away. “Move it! I still have shit to do!”
Soren didn’t resist—he let him carry on with his business as he stood there in the middle of the sidewalk, pondering about what just happened.
“I… I should confront Cassia about this.”
After returning to the underground dungeon beneath the library, Soren maneuvered his way across the usual corridors.
Passing through the gigantic smithing hall, he frowned. It was hard not to—he had grown used to seeing Noctharn there, hamring away endlessly. The mysterious giant had left with Tyrel to a place called Darkshrine Castle. A city sowhere in the Eclipse Moor. Soren didn’t know the reason behind their travels, but he assud it was most likely due to the Vynasian armadas.
After the Crimson Ritual Incident, Silmar had managed to break one of the promises of the Divine Accord. Only a few days later, reports from Yadria confird another round of spatial cracks occurred and large Voidstar Voyagers had made their way into Yarian. Just like last ti, the ships seed to have headed for that abyssal desert…
Continuing past the colossal hall, Soren finally reached the guild lounge. It was evening by now, so Joyce was most likely serving lunch.
Opening the door, he was greeted by Cassia who was sitting alone on a stool, finishing her al.
“You finished your business?”
Soren didn’t answer. He walked up and sat beside her.
“Cassia…”
“Hm?”
He gulped down his hesitation. What he was about to ask… It was sothing that should have had an obvious answer, but his instincts were telling him otherwise.
“Do you know soone nad Gunther?”
There was silence in the air for a mont. Cassia noticed how serious Soren was being and stopped eating. With her brows knit tightly, she answered:
“No. Who the hell is Gunther?”
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