All my questions for Gaven were ignored, and he soon left the lighthouse with a request to visit him soon. I let my curiosity go, as it was clear the man wouldn't be telling me anything about his time on Earth and how he had ended up here.

He had said he'd been in this world for a long time, so he wasn't taken when I was—unless I'd been kept frozen somehow for years, unaware.

It made me think the message I had heard before I'd been taken from Earth had been lying; that could mean not everyone had been relocated or that the beings behind it all had the plan to make Earth a research facility for whatever purposes a long time ago, and Gaven had just been part of the start of it.

Time rushed forward at the top of the lighthouse as I deliberated about things I didn't understand, every second accompanied by a tick from the pocket watch. It was soothing, in some way. But eventually, the thing began to ring, indicating the start of the long night.

I clicked a button on the side of the watch that Gaven had pointed out, turning off the alarm. My flames came next. Opening the little glass hatch to the lantern of the lighthouse, I summoned fire to the tip of my finger, and it grew almost naturally until I assumed the lamp was filled. The lever was pulled next, gears slowly clicking to life.

The contraption made a low whirring noise, slow and almost lost beneath the sound of gears and chains being pulled. I could only imagine what it looked like.

I'd never seen a lighthouse in person back on Earth and had never spared a thought about how one would work. I assumed this one was different than usual, restrained by the less sophisticated technology of this world. But I'd done everything as Gaven had directed, so I could only assume it was doing its job.

My mana had begun to drain, but it was at a dismissive rate. My flames were being sustained without a connection to me, and it was calming to watch them dance like a campfire.

I stayed awake that night, sitting with my back against the lighthouse wall, despite what I'd gone through not even a day before. I had no desire to sleep or to move, letting my ghosts wander as they liked.

The birds rose with the dawn as Gaven had promised, so I snuffed out my flames and turned off the contraption. My mana hadn't even reached the halfway point—maintaining the lighthouse flame proved to cost barely anything compared to the process of burning flesh.

I inspected the lighthouse next, cleaning it and removing the cloying dust that filled every floor. The bed's blanket was washed and dried thanks to a well outside, and any junk was thrown out.

That was how I found it.

The chest in the corner of the room was mostly empty, with a stack of crumbling papers taking up the majority of space. Some clumps of fabric were in it as well, perhaps shirts or pants before, but no longer recognizable by my hands. Moving the material disturbed a little object lost beneath the junk, and it rolled across the bottom of the now-empty bin.

Picking it up, I was first shocked by its warmth. It pulsed in my hand, waves traveling up my arm in ripples. The thing was shaped like a marble but much bigger, with a web of grooves carved into the stone surface.

This thing was not junk, I could immediately tell, but I was wary of its purpose. Contrary to other magical items in this world that I had encountered, I could feel its power and knew it was not just a simple marble.

The feeling it gave off unnerved me, so I returned it to the bin. I'm sure it'd be fine for a few more hours if it had been in there all this time. I'd take it with me when I next went to visit Gaven.

With my new home cleaned, I decided to sleep the rest of the day as exhaustion finally caught up to me, curiosity be damned.

The alarm on the pocket watch woke me, and I quickly set up the beaconing mechanism again, already caught in the routine. I didn't stay up there the whole time that night, confident everything would remain stable without me. However, I still periodically went up to check the machinery and made sure it hadn't jammed like Gaven had said it sometimes did.

I could hear the waves of the sea from the top of the lighthouse, and for a moment, I swore I heard that eerie singing again. It was faint behind the glass walls surrounding me, blocked out like the wind that rushed past.

It was gone in an instant.

When the birds began their harmony, I laid down to sleep for a few hours and then left to find Gaven, the strange marble in my pocket. I passed the village, unsure if he would be there, deciding to check the temple first.

Gaven wasn't inside but behind the building, and as I followed the sounds of his pacing footsteps, the dirt gradually changed to sand.

His movement stopped as I assumed he spotted me and called out in greeting. "Cain! I didn't think you'd come to find me so soon."

I shrugged. "There's not much to do in a lighthouse."

"I believe you're right," Gaven laughed. "I suppose that's why I never wanted to be there for long." He hummed, feet splashing in the shallow waves. "I think we'll have visitors soon," he told me noncommittally.

I frowned, shifting in the sand. "Who? Merchants from Rakfall?"

"I don't think so," Gaven replied, and I could hear his smile. "Their last journey didn't seem to end too well, did it?" I huffed, a reluctant smile tugging up my lips as well.

"No, I think the culprits behind that incident will soon visit us," he murmured, like a secret. "You could hear them last night, couldn't you? They seem to have recently acquired many things to trade."

"I guess so. But what would they even trade for?" I asked.

"Those creatures are quite wilful, I believe. They'll trade for whatever they fancy."

"Is that why the sirens spared me? Because they're 'wilful?'"

He laughed, voice turning towards the ocean. "Only they would know, I think. They might've found you too much trouble; maybe they found something likable about you, or yes, maybe it was on a whim." Gaven turned back to me, voice rising in volume. "Perhaps you'll even find an opportunity to ask them."

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

I tilted my head, shoving my hands into my pockets. It reminded me why I was here, and I rolled the marble between my fingers. I pulled it out, stepping closer to Gaven.

"I found this in the chest, in the bedroom," I told him, holding out the object.

The man hummed—it was a sound of familiarity. "I'd almost forgotten about this," Gaven murmured. "Well, I guess I did, in a way."

"What is it? What does it do?" I asked, unable to contain the questions.

Gaven sighed, a heavy thing, and it told of a story that did not seem easy for him to remember. "It's the first created of the 'Trinity of Pinemire.'" He began, and I stayed quiet, holding in the questions those few words had created.

"There are three of these orbs, scattered within the Raugan Islands. They were created by a genius artificer by the name of Findras Pinemire, an unidentifiable number of years ago. Despite the time that has passed, no one has been able to compete with the brilliance of all his creations.

"The rare stories and entries that describe the Trinity say Pinemire took three things that were vitally essential to each other, somehow achieved the impossible task of separating them, then imprisoned their magic inside the purest metal found in this world and engraved the outside with these runes." Gaven paused, taking a breath.

"Pinemire amplified each essence inside the stone, the methods still greatly puzzled over, but known to be linked to the untranslatable runes." He chuckled at that, rolling the marble in his hand. "The man truly should have had more time in this world." Gaven cleared his throat, then placed the marble back in my hand, his cool, wrinkled palm holding on to my wrist.

"Anyways, the most critical part, as many say, is what will happen when they are brought together. Many old texts hint that when the essences are finally brought back together, it will release a great power for the holder.

"However, no one knows how to activate the Trinity. Whenever one person has held all three orbs, nothing has happened, so many consider the story a mere myth. Since then, the orbs have been stolen, traded, bought, and lost, but somehow have always stayed within these islands. I believe it is because this is where they were made, and some power keeps them here." He laughed, patting me on the shoulder. "But that's just the ramblings of an old man."

I shook my head. "Nothing you say seems like ramblings,” I couldn't help but tell him honestly. I knew this man could crush me, if only he decided to do just that. The power I felt from him, and all his unknown experiences in this strange world, didn’t hint at something delusional.

Gaven laughed again, the sound so familiar to my ears now. "You may be right, but even I have my doubts."

I clenched the marble in my hand, eyebrows pulling down. "Why did you give this back to me anyways? Isn't it yours?"

Gaven huffed a breath, the sound pulled away by the wind. "It's not mine, and it doesn't belong to anyone that is still alive. I used to believe I had a claim to it, overcome with zeal and greed. Those dastardly feelings lost me something I did have, and I will never forget it."

Shifting on my feet, stuffing the marble back into my pocket, I couldn't help but wish him to continue. Then, as if sensing my feelings, Gaven chuckled.

"I've told you quite the tale today, Cain. Another one would only break my heart." That strong but thin hand tugged on my shoulder, turning me away from the sea—a silent command that it was time to leave.

"The first of the Trinity is in your possession now, so do with it what you will. Take my caution with you, however. Never let your drive consume you, and overpower what truly matters," Gaven warned, and he walked away from me and into the water until he sank into the sea with a final splash.

The ocean stilled at that, the lapping waves now barely making a sound. Some part of me felt his words were wasted, directed at me. What really mattered? I had no idea.

I returned to the lighthouse, Gaven's explanation running through my mind. I idly rolled the marble in my pocket. The compressed power I felt from it now made sense, the waves giving off a sense of a formidable existence, the calm swirling of heat telling of its transcendent abilities.

I was not at the level where I could comprehend the artifact.

I was lost in its presence back in the lighthouse, the marble's pulsing mystifying and seemingly sending shockwaves through my mana circuit. I could only imagine the effect all three marbles would have together. However, I wouldn't know where to start looking for the other two.

The ringing of the pocket watch woke me from my fugue, and I went to the top of the lighthouse after placing the marble back into the chest.

Lighthouse lit, I sat against the wall and looked at my status.

Name: Cain Miller

Title: Blind Man's Avarice

Class: Executioner

Strength: 37

Endurance: 35

Vitality: 24

Dexterity: 31

Intelligence: 15

Wisdom: 28

Perception: 17

Skills:

[Chop (4)] - passive

[Enhanced Sense (2)] - passive

[Summon Flame (4)] - active

[Silent Blade (2)] - active

[Map Line (2)] - active

[Spectral Hand (1)] - active

[Spectral Hand] was the most compelling to me, sitting as the only skilling at level one. It was a significant trump card, as I was the only one who could see its manifestation, even if it did take the most mana to use.

I wanted it to level up, and also to understand its limits and abilities. If it improved, the mana cost might decrease, and the time I could keep it summoned might increase. So, for now, it was my highest priority.

I activated the skill, paying more attention to the process than I ever had before. Like [Summon Flame], the mana traveled down my arm, then seemed to duplicate my hand before separating from it. I'd never noticed that before, as the times I'd used the skill had only ever been in high-risk situations.

The translucent hand moved forward as I willed it, fingers flexing. The mana cost was minimal at the moment since I hadn't directed it to interfere with anything in the material world.

I pushed it towards the door of the lighthouse, my own fingers twitching in my lap. It phased through the door but was still visible to me as it moved down the ladder and then the stairs.

I could understand the spectral hand's distance from me instinctively, and now on the second floor of the lighthouse, it was about thirteen feet away.

The rate at which mana flowed out of my core began to increase, trickling away like a broken faucet. I moved the hand to the first floor, but at the bottom of the steps, it halted, and trying to push it farther made my mind flicker.

I pulled it back to the second floor, my mana stores now slightly above the halfway mark. The range limit seemed to be around twenty-nine feet.

It was odd, the feeling. I could sense the surroundings around the hand as if I were downstairs myself. If I looked down, I could see the hand, and it felt like I was just floating above it in the darkness. If not for the hardwood floor beneath me, I knew my senses would be incredibly disoriented.

Hand now moving to the chest on the second floor, I directed it to flick the latch. It became denser, almost solidifying but not quite. Finally, the fingers gripped under the lid and pushed the container open.

A bead of sweat rolled down my temple.

Mana now at 25 percent, I pushed the hand into the chest to pick up the marble lying there, unassuming. The fingers of the hand flinched as it approached, as if they had met resistance. Still, I pushed forward, and the hand wrapped around the marble, its existence flickering.

I managed to pick up the orb, but as my mana fell below 5 percent, I released the skill, and the marble fell back into the chest. This experiment was the longest I had kept [Spectral Hand] alive without other mana costs cutting into the skill's potential. What heights I could take it to were—at the moment—only a figment of my imagination.

I was drained, but fulfilled.