The next dawn was grey and heavy, the kind that carried silence before a storm.
Mist veiled the valley, wrapping Riverstone Hollow in a ghostly calm. Ikenna stood by the Mother Tree one last time, fastening the leather straps of his pack. His staff rested across his back, the Seed of Equilibrium nestled safely in a pouch close to his heart.
Adaeze approached with two horses. "Provisions, maps, and water," she said briskly. "I even packed your favorite dried tubers."
He gave a faint smile. "You're really coming, then."
"Of course I am." She swung onto her saddle, her expression firm. "You'd get lost before sunrise without me."
A soft chuckle escaped him, but it faded quickly as he turned to the horizon. Beyond the mist, the Eastern Mountains loomed faintly — jagged silhouettes etched against a pale sky. That was where the Spirit had directed him. The cradle of life. The place where the Soil's Blood was said to flow.
Elder Nnadozie appeared behind them, supported by a staff carved with ancient sigils. "The mountains are older than memory," he said, his voice grave. "You'll find what you seek there — but beware. The land beyond is untamed. The spirits there… they do not welcome men."
Ikenna bowed respectfully. "I will honor them."
The elder studied him a moment, eyes softening. "And if the balance asks for your life?"
Ikenna hesitated, then answered quietly, "Then I hope I'll have the courage to give it."
Nnadozie's lips thinned, but he nodded. "Then go, Guardian. The soil watches."
They rode for hours through rolling plains and burnt patches of farmland slowly healing. The scent of ash faded into that of wild grass and damp wind. Birds had begun to return to the skies.
For a while, there was peace. Adaeze hummed softly, the rhythm of hooves steady beneath her voice.
But Ikenna couldn't ignore the faint tremors in the earth — the unnatural ripples that occasionally pulsed beneath their path.
"Do you feel that?" he asked.
Adaeze frowned. "The shaking? Yeah. It's been following us since we crossed the last ridge."
"It's not the soil," he murmured. "It's something beneath it."
As if in response, the ground ahead of them cracked open. A massive root shot upward, coiling like a serpent, and from its bark peeled away the shape of a creature — half plant, half beast, its body made of twisted vines and stone.
Its eyes glowed a sickly green.
Adaeze drew her sword. "Corrupted guardian!"
Ikenna dismounted, slamming his staff into the soil. "Stay behind me."
The creature roared, the air vibrating with the sound of earth grinding against itself. Its vines lashed out, tearing furrows into the ground.
Ikenna raised his free hand, summoning a barrier of light from the Seed's power. Roots beneath his feet rose, weaving into a dome that absorbed the first strike. The impact sent shudders through his bones.
The creature lunged again, this time faster. Adaeze rolled to the side, slicing through a tendril. Black sap splattered the ground, hissing like acid.
"It's feeding on the corruption Orodi left behind," Ikenna realized. "It's not attacking us — it's starving!"
Adaeze parried another strike. "Then feed it something else before it eats me!"
He planted his staff into the ground, channeling energy from the Seed. Golden light spread across the soil in a circle, like ripples on water. The corrupted guardian shrieked as the light touched its body — the rot hissing, burning away in tendrils of smoke.
The vines loosened. Its stone face softened, the glow in its eyes dimming to amber.
Then, slowly, it knelt.
Adaeze lowered her sword. "Did you just—?"
"I freed it," Ikenna said softly. "The corruption had taken its will."
The creature lowered its head, pressing a hand — if it could be called that — into the soil. The earth around them pulsed gently, revealing a narrow path through the forest ahead.
Adaeze blinked. "It's… guiding us?"
"The land remembers gratitude," Ikenna said with a faint smile. "Even in pain."
They passed by as the guardian sank back into the soil, its form dissolving into roots once more.
By dusk, they reached the Whispering Gorge, a vast canyon whose sides glowed faintly with veins of bioluminescent moss. The air was cool, filled with the hum of unseen energy.
Adaeze dismounted and tied her horse. "We'll rest here for the night. The mountains are another two days from this point."
Ikenna nodded but kept his gaze fixed on the canyon below. "Do you hear that?"
Adaeze listened. Faint whispers drifted through the wind, like dozens of overlapping voices murmuring secrets.
"It's like… prayers," she said.
"Or warnings," Ikenna murmured. "This is where the boundary between worlds thins. The spirits of the old guardians are near."
He knelt, touching the ground. The Seed pulsed faintly — not in warning, but in reverence.
Then, from the darkness below, came a soft, melodic voice.
"Child of Earth… why do you trespass upon our silence?"
The air shimmered. Figures began to emerge from the mist — translucent beings shaped like men and women, their eyes glowing faintly with light. Their forms were adorned with roots, leaves, and the faint glimmer of seeds.
Adaeze stepped back, sword half-drawn. "Spirits…"
Ikenna bowed deeply. "Ancestors of the soil. I seek the path to the Source — the Soil's Blood."
The lead spirit tilted its head, its expression unreadable. "And what will you do if you find it?"
"I will heal the corruption that festers in the earth," Ikenna said.
"Even if it costs your life?"
His gaze didn't waver. "If that's what balance demands."
The spirit's glow brightened. "Then you carry both the courage and the curse of the first Guardian."
"Curse?" Adaeze echoed.
The spirit looked toward her. "The one who first touched the Soil's Blood gave his heart to the land. His body became its roots. His will became its hunger. From him, balance was born — but at the price of himself."
Ikenna's pulse quickened. "And you're saying the same fate awaits me?"
The spirit reached out, a hand of light brushing the Seed beneath his cloak. "The choice is yours, child of green. The blood will either purify you… or consume you."
The spirits began to fade, their whispers scattering like wind through leaves.
Adaeze turned to him. "We're getting close. Too close."
He nodded slowly, eyes hard. "Then it's time we find out what I was truly chosen for."
The wind rose again, carrying the faint scent of sap and rain. Far in the distance, the mountains loomed higher, their peaks hidden behind storm clouds that pulsed with light.
The path to the Source had begun.
And with every step, the soil whispered louder.