Shadows danced on Lidien's face as a small flickering orb of fla suspended above his hands... consuming his Elental Verve continuously as it illuminated their surroundings in the darkness of the environnt.
Lidien had only thought one word in his mind, and it was "Fire"... The simple thought directly transford into tangible reality, the conceptual word itself becoming power that consud his elental verve as it flowed through his Sparkline, manifesting as fire.
As he glanced at Alva, still counting in her mind, he couldn't ask what complex thought had nearly depleted all of her spiritual verve, burning her Sparkline in the process.
Lidien didn't know how far her thinking had gone, for all the complex thoughts he processed with the Monarch of Blood were safely contained within his Dreamflow, shielding him from the Rift's rules... but Alva had no such protection.
Unlike the Rift of the Leaden Blood which slowed the circulation of blood flowing through one's vessels, this Rift--with an unknown na--could transform their "Voice," whether sound or thought, into runes, and those runes manifested into reality, consuming their verve in the process.
Lidien pulled a Verve Stone from his space ring; thanks to the haul he had gathered from the Rift's Core room of the Leaden Blood, he had nearly a hundred thousand of them.
He gave one to Alva and absorbed another into his Coreflux, filling his reserves as he watched the fla in his hand slowly... dissipate when he cut off the supply of Elental Verve.
Alva sat cross-legged, placing the Verve Stone onto her forehead... a different thod of absorption unique to her.
Lidien didn't mind; now... instead of going to explore the Rift, he sat in front of Alva... postponing the plan to explore unless she could fully heal.
His eyes glanced at his hands as he willed his own elental verve to slowly seep outward... yet, like last ti... it kept crackling with small continuous explosions from the chaotic nature of his own verve--a combination of six elents.
Yet, when he said "Fire," a rune ca out of his mouth instead of sound... as it disintegrated, another fire suspended above his palm, disregarding the chaotic nature of his elent, as if the Rift's laws had acted as a perfect filter, isolating the pure concept of 'Fire' from the chaotic mixture of his elents.
Now... to maximize his ti waiting for Alva to completely heal, he recited the letters of the Savage Expanse and the alphabet of his old world.
Until he noticed sothing...
The runes ford depended on what he ant, not the language he was using... like the word "think" using the alphabet had a different pronunciation from the Savage Expanse language... still, they had the sa aning.
And the Runes that ca out of his mouth were the sa... they were produced by aning, not by the sound they actually made... as if all known languages could be translated into runes.
Yet, even though Lidien could see the floating runes coming out of his mouth when he thought of words or letters, he still didn't know how to write them... for spelling a word produced a different set of runes, while saying the sa word produced one complete rune.
It was the difference between stating a command and explaining the command's etymology. One was efficient; the other was a scholarly exercise that the Rift interpreted as a series of separate, intricate thoughts.
A frustrated sigh escaped him, forming into a jagged, complex rune of disappointnt. There would be no easy shortcut. To learn this language, he would have to understand concepts in their entirety, not just their components. The path to mastery had just beco much steeper, but also far more interesting.
As ti slowly passed, the tense lines of Alva's shoulders finally began to relax. She found her peace, absorbing almost a hundred Verve Stones--a staggering cost to replenish the spiritual verve burned away by her single, fateful chain of thought.
While Lidien now fully morized the runic images of numbers and letters, along with the different runes for all the elents, even the word Chaos... and to his surprise, the runes for his Blood, Corpse, and Soul Essences were identical to those floating from his mouth--a direct link between the ancient power in his soul and the fundantal language of this Rift.
Now, he needed to unravel the syntax of this runic language. How did individual runes for letters combine to form the complete, conceptual rune for a word? He needed to find the grammar of reality itself.
Then...
His ears captured the sound of water splashing. His eyes widened, looking toward the endless sea of runes... It was gone. In its place, a wall of stone stread upward past his vision at a terrifying speed.
A lurching sensation seized his gut as the pressure vanished from his legs--the ground had disappeared. They were falling.
It was too abrupt that Lidien could only cut his own hand and use his blood to make a rope, lassoing it on a branch that stuck out from the wall while he held Alva with his other hand, slamming them against the wall after an impactful swing.
Flap!
A strong wind rushed past both of their faces, Alva now fully awake from her stupor and ditation.
As they both looked toward the night sky, still clinging to the bloody whip with their bodies hanging from the cliff, a massive flying being flapped its wings, producing a bombarding sound.
Lidien was surprised when he could now hear his own word.
"Dragon..."
The Dragon morphed into a humanoid form, still flapping its massive wings as it stared directly at the Blood Whip before glancing boredly at Lidien.
Then it spoke, words with an unfamiliar sound... neither alphabet nor the language of the Savage Expanse, but sothing that could not be understood by their minds... only by their hearts.
"It is rare to see a Blessed of Death protecting a Blessed of Life..."
Lidien closed his eyes... he freed his mind, and unconsciously focused his thoughts on his beating heart...
and, as his mouth opened while his vocal cords vibrated... he spoke with what he ant, not by what he thought.
"Leave, and we will spare your life."
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