Seeing that expression, Lavayla suddenly felt as though she were being stared at by soone who had just discovered a priceless heavenly treasure, just like in the cultivation stories she once read.
Instinctively, she took a step back.
"Watch your step."
Mirek’s voice sounded beside her, steady and low, halting her movent just before she lost her footing.
"Oh, thank you," Lavayla said as she glanced back at Mirek.
With his support, she steadied herself and straightened her posture before turning her attention back to Shalika.
"You do know a safe way out of this space," she said slowly. Then her brows drew together in confusion. "And... why are you looking at like that?"
Shalika smiled and gently shook her head.
"Please do not misunderstand. I was simply happy, that is all. If my expression made you uncomfortable, then I apologize." She paused before continuing, her tone calm and assured. "And yes, I do know a way out of this space. In fact, I could personally send you out."
Lavayla relaxed slightly, but Shalika’s next words made her freeze.
"However, that can only happen when the space itself determines that you are ready to leave as its worthy successors."
Lavayla had been nodding along, but now she stopped completely. Her eyes narrowed with confusion as she stared at Shalika.
"...Worthy successors?" she repeated carefully. "What exactly do you an by that?"
"I will explain everything," Shalika replied patiently. "But first, you should not worry about being trapped here. If the space senses that you have stayed long enough, or if sothing urgent occurs in the outside world that requires your return, it will open a path on its own."
She placed a hand lightly against her chest.
"This space possesses its own consciousness. My role as guardian of the Mist Forest is rely to guide and maintain balance."
Her smile deepened slightly.
"And what I am about to explain may take so ti."
As she spoke, she waved her hand gently through the air. The wide sleeve of her translucent dress flowed outward like drifting mist.
A mont later, a simple square wooden table appeared beside her, accompanied by three chairs. One stood opposite her position, while the other two rested side by side.
"Please, take a seat."
Lavayla was not shocked by the sudden appearance of furniture. After everything she had witnessed since entering this strange world, such phenona no longer surprised her.
What truly caught her attention was sothing else entirely.
In this seemingly primitive era dominated by beastn tribes, the guardian of a hidden dinsional space displayed a level of refinent and comfort far beyond what most tribes possessed.
Mirek, however, reacted differently.
He had been born into the Ember Stripe Tribe. Although the tribe lacked advanced construction or craftsmanship, their strength ranked among the finest. Survival, hunting, and combat defined their existence.
From a young age, Mirek had lived much like his elder brother and fellow warriors. Long hunting expeditions were normal. Weeks away from the tribe often turned into months, and sotis even half a year passed before his return.
His dwelling within the tribe was little more than decoration. One of the simplest huts among them.
Yet he had never considered that a flaw.
To Mirek, dedicating himself entirely to hunting, training, and studying the beasts roaming the surrounding forests was natural. Strength ensured survival. Knowledge of prey ensured victory.
He had never felt disadvantaged for knowing little about the more developed lifestyles of tribes said to exist beyond the Great Mountains, far across the distant lands.
But now...
Seeing a neatly crafted table and chairs appear from nothing made him realize just how vast the difference between worlds truly was.
Lavayla sat first, placing Vai carefully on her lap. Mirek followed, remaining alert even as he took the seat beside her. His red eyes never left Shalika, instinctively wary despite her gentle deanor.
Shalika lowered herself gracefully into the remaining chair.
For a brief mont, silence settled between them. The surrounding mist drifted lazily through the trees, and faint spiritual energy shimred in the air like invisible currents.
Then Shalika spoke.
"This space was not created naturally," she began. "Long ago, before the beast tribes spread across these lands, powerful beings discovered a fracture between ti and reality."
Lavayla leaned forward unconsciously.
"They refined that fracture," Shalika continued, "turning it into a sanctuary. A place ant to preserve life, knowledge, and balance whenever the outside world fell into chaos."
Her gaze moved between Lavayla and Mirek.
"But such a place cannot exist without guardians... nor without successors."
The air seed to grow heavier.
"And after observing you both," she said softly, "the space has begun to acknowledge your presence."
Lavayla felt her heartbeat quicken.
"...Acknowledge us?" she asked.
Shalika nodded.
"Yes."
Her smile carried aning far deeper than before.
"It is deciding whether you are worthy of inheriting it."
"There are two types of successors," Shalika said at last. "The first are guardians. Guardians are not ordinary beings. They are lifeforms created from the remnants of the powerful existence that ford this space."
Her voice gradually softened as her gaze drifted toward the mist-covered flowers nearby. Pale petals swayed gently beneath invisible currents of energy.
"Sadly..." she murmured, almost to herself, "I appear to be the last of my kind. No matter how tirelessly the mist works, it can no longer give birth to new life from the remaining fragnts of that being."
A faint loneliness passed through her expression.
After a mont, she turned back toward them and shook her head lightly, as if casting aside unnecessary thoughts.
"I apologize. My explanation must sound confusing." She smiled apologetically. "I should have begun from the beginning. Now then... where should I start?"
Lavayla did not hesitate.
"You should start by explaining what it ans for both of us to be ’worthy successors,’ what this place truly is, and everything else. Please do not leave anything out."
For a brief second, Shalika blinked in surprise before laughter escaped her lips. It was light and carefree, carrying genuine amusent.
"Oh? How domineering." Her eyes curved with delight. "I like you."
She rested her chin lightly against her fingers before continuing.
"This space requires either a guardian or a successor. A guardian exists to maintain balance within the space. A successor, however, possesses authority over everything that occurs here."
Lavayla raised a brow slightly.
She did not dare interrupt, but alarms were already ringing inside her mind. Having devoured countless online novels in her previous life, the situation sounded suspiciously familiar. Hidden realms. inheritances. chosen successors.
Protagonists with Golden fingers.
Still, she remained silent and continued listening, questions clearly written in her eyes.
Shalika noticed and smiled knowingly.
"I understand your confusion, but allow to finish first."
She gestured gently around them.
"A guardian remains within the space because we are part of it. As I ntioned earlier, this realm possesses consciousness. Guardians are born from fragnts of the being that created this world. We originate from the space itself."
Her sleeve brushed against the table as faint mist gathered at her fingertips before dispersing again.
"We cannot leave. We are the space. That is why I can manifest objects freely and alter my surroundings at will, yet I cannot step beyond its boundaries."
Her gaze deepened.
"A successor is different."
"The space itself chooses its successor. Only those acknowledged by its consciousness may inherit it. Throughout countless years, travelers who accidentally approached the barrier were either turned away or eliminated before entry."
Her eyes moved between Lavayla and Mirek.
"This is the first ti the space has accepted two individuals simultaneously."
Silence fell.
"As successors," Shalika continued calmly, "you would not dominate the space. Rather, the space would assist you. You may enter or leave freely whenever you wish. Everything contained within it would beco known to you."
Her voice lowered, almost reverent.
"Every blade of grass. Every drop of water. Every creature, every change, every flow of energy. Nothing within this realm would escape your awareness."
She leaned back slightly, studying their reactions.
"So tell ," she asked softly, "who would refuse ownership of such a vast and miraculous land?"
Lavayla said nothing.
Her mind raced as pieces rapidly connected together. Eighty percent of her earlier suspicion now felt confird, yet uncertainty still lingered.
Beside her, Mirek’s brows had remained tightly furrowed since Shalika began describing the authority granted to successors. His instincts, honed through years of survival, reacted not with excitent but caution.
Power always carried a price.
Finally, Mirek spoke.
"If soone inherits this space," he asked slowly, "what happens to the guardian?"
Shalika’s smile paused.
For the first ti since the conversation began, a trace of heaviness entered her expression.
"The guardian’s duty ends."
Lavayla’s fingers tightened slightly around Vai.
"...Ends?" she repeated.
Shalika nodded gently.
"When a successor fully inherits the space, the guardian returns to the origin of the mist. Our existence dissolves back into the consciousness that birthed us."
Reviews
All reviews (0)