After a longer-than-expected preparation, Eden ended up sharing the wagon with the felyne—who sat up front near the driver—and with a hooded human in a green cloak who still hadn't given his name.
Once he finally settled into his seat, Eden gave a small nod, awkward and stiff, more a reflex of politeness than real greeting. The cloaked man replied in kind, just a slight dip of the head, without a word.
The wagon set off with a slow rattle, winding through the city's narrow streets. They crossed busy plazas, passed fountains where children splashed, and rolled by vendors shouting worn-out end-of-day offers. Eden watched everything with a blend of anticipation and melancholy. He remembered how much Mielchor's company had helped him these past days; without him, Eden wasn't sure he would've lasted. Even if the tiny creature often dragged him into trouble, solitude was always easier with him around.
He realized this might be the last time he'd see the city for a long while. And although the journey had just begun, he still struggled to believe everything was about to start over.
Soon, the city was far behind, swallowed by the reddish glow of dusk. The sun vanished beyond the horizon while the heavy gallop of the Krovaxid—massive crabs with legs plated in dark mineral—made the wagon tremble with each powerful stride.
Night fell without warning. A heavy silence wrapped the group. Too early to sleep—and harder still when traveling among strangers. After a few hours of dull boredom, Eden couldn't take it anymore and leaned halfway out the window.
The wind hit him hard, tousling his hair so violently he couldn't help but laugh under his breath. Even without sunlight, darkness wasn't complete: the stars shone countless and bright, like a silver river spread across the sky. And there, outlined against the shadowed horizon, stood the Eternal Tower—vast, serene, as though patiently waiting for them.
Eden remained there watching. His gaze shifted from the road to the brush-covered fields, to animals darting into the distance… then back to the sky, and to the Tower's silhouette.
From the opposite side of the wagon, a voice broke the silence:
"Ever wondered how to reach it?" asked the man in the green cloak, eyes still fixed on the world outside. His tone was calm, almost casual, yet his expression carried an odd, quiet certainty.
Eden jolted at the abrupt question.
The man didn't seem bothered. He let out a short laugh, followed by a soft, relaxed smile. Every gesture felt deliberate, as if he moved to a rhythm only he could hear.
"Forgive me," he said gently, placing an open hand against his chest in a polite gesture. His eyes met Eden's—neither mocking nor tense. "I haven't introduced myself. I'm Alaric… Alaric Dusq'banne. A Land Navigator."
His calm contrasted sharply with Eden's discomfort. It felt as though this stranger already knew exactly where he was, and where he was headed.
"No… not really," Eden answered, uneasy, shifting in his seat.
Alaric smiled faintly."Many dream of touching it… or claim someone once did. But the truth is, no one ever reaches it. You know the legend, I assume?"
"I think so… a bit, from when I was a kid," Eden replied, more relaxed but still uncertain. "It said that…" He dug through memories. "Right—something about the Tower holding other lands inside, and choosing who may enter. Was that it?"
"More or less," Alaric nodded, leaning back. "They say it's always been there. No one can reach it, yet everyone agrees it rises beyond the heavens. The strange part is—no two people see it the same."
"What do you mean?" Eden asked, curiosity flickering.
"It has no fixed form… or reality," Alaric said after a pause. "Each mind sees it differently." He stretched, letting silence settle again. "Anyway… I'm traveling with the hope of reaching it someday." He spoke with a yawn, as if commenting on the weather.
"It's time for you to sleep, snow-boy," the felyne cut in, hopping from the front to their side, dodging crates and sacks with feline grace. "Past your bedtime, kid."
Eeden blinked and smiled despite himself. The creature's tone was firm, but oddly gentle. He leaned back, letting the wagon's sway and the soft whistle of the wind lull him.
He closed his eyes for only a moment. When he opened them again, Alaric sat silent, arms crossed, gazing at the stars. No urgency. No commands. Just that steady rhythm flowing from the wagon and the deep pounding of the Krovaxid.
Eden sighed, defeated by days of exhaustion, and let the night carry him into sleep.
Morning light crept through cracks in the wagon walls. Warm tones painted the horizon. Eden opened his eyes slowly. He'd slept well, though all night he'd clung to his belongings, afraid they'd vanish while he dreamed.
Before moving, he checked everything. All accounted for.That's when he noticed: the wagon wasn't moving. To his left, crates and sacks were jumbled, knocked from their usual place.
He sat up and stepped out. At first, he saw no one—their wagon was last in line. The morning heat hit him with surprising intensity. Eden walked forward, searching for the others.
Only the Krovaxid appeared at first. Some dug into the soil with their pincers, searching for mineral-rich stones; others gnawed calmly on meat brought to feed them, or crushed tough fibers with noisy, dry snaps.
Further ahead, Eden spotted the group gathered on the road—circling something.
He heard the voices first:
"Caught him eating our rations this morning," Alaric said, voice firm and plain.
"Little thief!" the felyne mocked, one brow raised. "Better teach this Drakilith some manners."
"By the Aetheric Princes!" the elf exclaimed, arms crossed, chin lifted with proud indignation. "You have no idea how hard he was to catch."
Eden hurried closer, trying to see what they meant.When he finally saw it, his chest tightened.
In their midst, small and helpless, stood a tiny creature: a biped lizard with gleaming scales and eyes that pleaded for help the moment they recognized him.
Mielchor… Eden thought, and for an instant, every doubt vanished—nothing left but certainty.
He stepped forward, slow but determined, though every nerve urged him to stop, to retreat, to mind his own business. But seeing Mielchor trapped and defenseless sparked something inside him that he could no longer ignore.
"Uh—" Eden said, forcing strength into his voice. "Let him go!"
The felyne raised a doubtful brow, and Alaric turned toward him with a mix of surprise and disappointment.
"What did you say?" the felyne growled, low.
Eden inhaled. He shoved the felyne aside and advanced, heart pounding. His hand tightened around a knife at his belt—not to attack, but as a pure reflex of protection.
"I said—let him go."This time, his voice carried a surprising edge of authority.
Silence fell—thick and pressing. All eyes fixed on him. The sun burned on his back, and the pressure of the moment threatened to break him, but something inside had decided: he would not stand aside. If he wanted to protect his friend, he had to act, even if it meant abandoning fear.
Without further hesitation, he lunged forward and cut the ropes binding Mielchor. The little creature squeaked and leapt into his arms, curling against him for safety.
Eden pushed him behind and stepped back, standing tall before the group. The elf and the felyne burst with outrage; Alaric watched with a faint, almost approving smile; Gundar remained unreadable as always. But Vairon… Vairon was different. The man who usually seemed approachable was serious—and that seriousness made him far more imposing.
Vairon stepped forward. His presence alone silenced the others.
"You know this Drakilith?" he asked, voice deep and commanding—enough to intimidate anyone.
Eden trembled. His earlier resolve began to waver, but fear wouldn't force him to retreat. He clenched his jaw, straightened his legs, and braced himself.
"Yes! He's my companion!" he shouted, fists tight and shaking. His voice was defiant, though terror smoldered inside him.
Vairon closed the distance, his shadow falling over Eden and Mielchor. Every muscle of his body seemed prepared to strike. His penetrating stare chilled the air. Eden froze; his legs trembled, breath quivering—he shut his eyes, ready to take a blow he knew he couldn't dodge.
But no strike came.Only wind on his face… then a firm, unexpectedly gentle hand rested on his head. Opening his eyes felt like waking from a nightmare: Vairon leaned over him, brushing his hair, no trace of hostility on his face.
"I wasn't wrong to invite you," he said calmly, with a quiet grace. A faint smile curved his lips as he patted Eden's back. "You've got courage."
Eden blinked, stunned, while Mielchor pressed tightly against his leg. The tension drained, replaced by warm relief.
Vairon looked at Gundar with a triumphant gleam, flashing a teasing grin.
Ahead, Cecilia and Gundar worked on the lead wagon, unloading tools and organizing supplies. The air smelled of dry herbs and sun-baked leather. Alaric rested against a trunk, polishing his blade at an unhurried pace, while Vairon—still smirking—sat in quiet satisfaction.
Eden sat with Mielchor, catching his breath, when a feline shadow loomed over him.
"Hey, kid," the felyne said, arms full of jars and tail flicking. "If you're sticking with us, you'd better be useful. The fire won't light itself."
He pointed a sharp paw at him.
To Eden's surprise, the felyne now walked upright—moving almost like a human.
"Go grab some dry wood from the forest. Plenty of it—I'm starving."
Eden hesitated. Was this an order? A joke? Another test?He looked at Mielchor, who tilted his head and chirped softly, as if encouraging him.
"Alright," Eden muttered, getting up and heading toward the woods.
He'd never explored this forest, and the fear of getting lost clung to him. To keep track, he marked tree trunks as he went. He gathered dry branches as he jogged in zigzags, climbed over fallen trees, and from time to time climbed higher to get a better view. He had no training or magic enhancing him, yet his athletic build and good physical shape made him light on his feet.
Still, he wandered farther than planned. The forest surrounded him in deep quiet, broken only by distant birdsong and branches cracking underfoot. Then, after pushing past a pile of fallen branches and stepping through a thick bush, he froze.
By the lake, resting in silence, lay a Braskyl.
Behind him, Mielchor bounced after him, stumbling over roots and logs, running as fast as his short legs allowed. Unable to stop in time, he crashed into Eden just as he'd halted to stare at the Braskyl.
"Shhh, shhh!" Eden hissed, raising both hands and waving one for silence.
Mielchor stared wide-eyed, tail twitching with impatience. Head tilted, he seemed to ask—what now?
"Little rat… we need to replace the food you gobbled while hiding," Eden muttered, lifting a brow in a fake attempt at seriousness, though the playful glint in his eyes gave him away.
Mielchor snorted, then struck his open palm with a fist—like he understood the mission perfectly.