When Kallen awoke on the second day in his stone-hewn cell, the realization of his new home, at last, properly settled in his mind. The grin he fell asleep with faded away alongside his consciousness. He opened his eyes in utter darkness: no luminosity, no sounds, nobody. The only constants were the occasional water droplets, which he could only hear if he put his mind to it. He sat up on his rough bed slab, his body still stiff from yesterday's efforts. He didn’t even feel like sparing a snarky comment in his head.
Yet, there was something else—a faint prickling sensation just beneath his skin. His hand moved instinctively to his forehead, where he found his horn. While he tended to avoid touching it, he knew its texture and shape like no other, and it changed today. Slightly longer than before. It felt rougher, too.
It sent a jolt through his spine. It was coming back, the Beast. Advancing, slow but steady, like a predator stalking its prey. The air coming out of his lungs felt hotter with each breath. The urgency took on a new weight. His horn and a few scales were still present after he escaped Beastification, so he knew he was on a shorter timeline than others. The kid didn’t expect the mark to act so quickly—a child’s naivety.
Feeling his heart pound like it was escaping his chest, Kallen immediately crossed his legs and closed his eyes, plunging himself into deeper darkness. He couldn’t see anything, but the passages of the books he struggled so intensely to comprehend were imprinted in his mind. Understanding was one thing, but memorizing was something he was confident in. All these orders, routes, and schedules he had to remember back when he worked in the city developed one of those few skills he became proud of.
On those mental pages stuck in his head, he decided only to keep the illustrations. He wanted to find those shapes again, those waves of warmth spreading feebly from his lower back, his Essence. Yesterday, before collapsing, he managed to capture it again, maintaining it even. This eerie sensation and this taste of victory, he needed to build on it starting now as every second counted.
He devoted what he decided to be his morning to the exercises he practiced the day before, repeating the breathing techniques and the posture meant to help him feel the Flow. The minutes passed, but each attempt left him grappling with frustration. The sensation remained elusive, a fleeting whisper that seemed to vanish the moment he reached for it. Like his results until now were just a dream.
Being unaware of the passage of time planted a seed of fear deep within his soul. The only thing he could rely on to count the days was the passage of the instructor.
Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, like help from the gods, the door slid open, revealing the masked instructor. As he made his way into the room, none of his movements interrupted the oppressing silence Kallen was plunged in, as if to not disturb his concentration. Eager to get some new insight, the boy turned around and faced his bed before this shadow of a man lit the oil lamp.
When the cold hand reached his back, he was prepared, ready to let in the energy he was about to receive. As he expected, the heat wave coursed throughout his body with much greater strength than the wavelets he caught a glimpse of the day before. Kal did his best to stay immobile, still unsettled by this foreign sensation. He needed to focus and understand the key to get him out of this cell alive. After a moment that felt too short, the man’s hand was lifted. The inspection was done. The instructor quietly filled the bowl and cup before heading towards the exit.
“Instructor,” Kallen ventured hesitantly as the man went through the door without stopping in his tracks. “How much time do I have before I turn?”
The masked figure paused, lingering as the door closed itself slowly. “Time bends to how you use it, 106.” Without another word, the stone panel sealed him inside once more. This time, the shadows cast by the lamp could keep him company.
***
After hours of practice, Kallen’s frustration mounted, his mind haunted by the instructor’s cryptic response. The Flow continued evading him, leaving him adrift in his body. After the inspection, he got two things: First, he concluded that the candle's light represented daytime, making it easier to understand how much time he spent isolated. Second, he was now persuaded that Essence had a different feel from one person to another. The waves he felt from the instructor were less warm than even the tiny energy he could perceive within himself. There was more space between them as well. From his perspective, the instructor merely gave him a taste of it. His goal was to find his own—but he was lost even in his own body. All he could do during his short pauses was stare at pages he already memorized and a light he could only dread to see fading away.
Desperate, he pushed harder, his breaths ragged, his concentration fraying. Fear spread its roots deeper. And then, something shifted. He felt it again—not the calm, rhythmic pulse described in the book, but a dark, turbulent energy clawing through his veins. The Flames. The ones who burned his home and his humanity on the way.
He froze. The memory of the fire, the scales, the horn, and the raw, monstrous power surged back with a clarity that made his breath hitch. He felt like it was in the room, the Serpent who bathed him in fire, coiling all around his body— at its mercy once more.
The boy recoiled instinctively, letting go of all efforts to concentrate. His hands trembled as he sat on the edge of the slab, his heart pounding. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to have more time. He shut his eyes and tried to calm himself, but fear had already sunk its teeth into him. He felt his blood heating up, feeling like he was about to explode once again.
He threw himself off his bed, crashing on the rough ground, then flipped on his back. As cold sweat dripped from his forehead, he started rhythmically hitting the ground with his index finger.
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Days earlier, 23rd day of the 3rd Cycle, year 495
“I don’t feel anything…” Said Kallen, his back laid on the tall grass in front of Safia’s Wood Cabin.
“You think too much, that’s why. Scared a Beast will come and get you?” Replied Anya, seated cross-legged next to him, holding his hand. The leather collar of the same necklace that tamed his transformation back in the Hollow Tower slipped through their fingers.
“...”
“Coward, you should be more afraid of me than them.”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“True, most Beasts aren’t cruel enough to take people hostage,” He taught without a single frown on his face.
Meditation sessions to keep the flames within his mark under control were a daily routine during his recovery. By inputting essence through the necklace, Ani was able to calm his symptoms. But the effects were maximized when his attention was entirely directed towards it. A challenge for a non-Vessel member of a society based on the fear of Beasts. And the fact that he knew this place was situated out of a Glade, his built-in anxiety just wouldn't go away.
“...Why are we doing it outside today…Miss Anya?” Said Kallen, trying his best to act composed.
“I can’t say much, but this is good training for what will come. Comfort is a notion you will have to forget once you leave this place. You must learn to focus even in difficulty.”
He understood the reasons, but the execution was something else. He had been lying there for probably more than 30 minutes but couldn’t feel the pendant nearly as good as within the cabin. As he kept persevering, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get up until he reached some form of success, a wooden squeak made itself heard. It was disturbing enough to draw a nervous rictus on Kal’s brows, finally.
“Safia…” Said Anya, seemingly annoyed by the house owner, rocking her chair and watching her educate her pupil.
“Kid, focus on that instead.” Kallen sneakily opened an eye, scanning Ani’s face, not knowing how to react. It was one of those rare occasions where Safia decided to address him. ”I’ve been watching for a while, and he is no natural. He probably won’t understand the Sixth Sense with the standard techniques. He needs something more grounded.”
“...Go ahead then.” Said the northern lady, with a frown as if she felt insulted.
He then closed his eyes again. Focused on the chair's rhythmical sounds, it reminded him of Father Lark. The man was in his late forties but acted 20 years older. His time learning to read and write in the Ivory Tower alongside the other maze children was one of the only peaceful moments he had outside his home. The sound of his rocking chair was soothing, a sign that he was always around. In one of the few safe havens Melhem possessed, he felt safe. His heartbeats slowed down, and as the minutes passed, his other senses were magnified.
The damp and earthy scent of the earth, the gentle breeze rolling on his skin, the grass blades bending under his weight, and the subtle taste of the porridge that remained in his mouth—in complete darkness, he could somehow feel everything in his proximity.
Until it started to fade away.
All that remained was the subtle vibrations between his mentor’s oddly soft hands and his. It matched the chair’s rhythm with no fault. He tried latching onto it, following the tempo by tapping his index finger against his mentor’s skin. And as his cadence got closer and closer to the original, he felt it, a sensation of relief even greater than every meditation session prior combined. He caught it, the pendant’s Flow.
After a few minutes, Anya slowly removed his hand, throwing Kallen off his trance abruptly.
“I’m surprised. Only oddballs use this kind of trick. It makes things even worse most of the time. He is just like you, Safi~ An eccentric.”
“Can you please now get inside? I need to do my round.” Replied Safia with indifference.
“You also wanted a pupil, didn’t you?”
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Back in the stone cell, date unknown
Lying on his back, Kallen focused on his breathing, letting himself drift in the silence of his mind amongst the fire pulsing in his veins. He tried relaxing his muscles, fighting against his most primal instincts. The dark energy still loomed at the edges of his awareness, a shadow waiting to pounce. But he did not push it away. He acknowledged it, letting its presence settle without fear. He was looking for something else—the distant water droplets, falling in rhythm somewhere beyond his prison of rocks. Slowly but steadily, his finger matched the sounds that used to disturb him more than anything else. He needed to find a way to stabilize, and this short lesson from Safia was the first thing that came to mind.
The subtle heat of the lamp, the tiny edges of the ground pointing at his skin, the smell of sweat steadily invading the room, the dryness of his parched mouth—all senses were magnified for a time only to disappear quietly. Only Kallen’s finger remained active, still following with assiduity a sound that now left his ears. The fire grew smaller by the second as if the fuel they used to invade their host’s body was no more. When it was utterly subdued, Kal floated in darkness for a minute, appreciating the newfound calm he had reached. Until a new vibration appeared, he couldn’t hear it, only feel it, although not through his skin—because it came from within.
Just like water, he felt this familiar wave of warm energy pour into his lower back, slowly filling his body. He instantly recognized the heat and its frequency as his Essence. What was a firestorm within him perished, leaving behind a faint current—subtle, steady, almost indistinguishable but real. Not wishing to lose his progress, he let his body become a recipient.
As it reached saturation, The energy flowed seamlessly out of his every pore. It felt like bleeding, but without the pain and the open gashes, a sense of relief, similar to the pendant. Wanting to open his eyes, curious to see this energy for what it was, he stopped himself, noticing that the Essence exuded from his body followed a unique direction. This was when he understood.
When the tides come ashore, allow it, or let it return to the sea. The world is an ocean you drift within. Your driving force.
He has been basking in Essence since the day he was born. The entire world has been. He always knew that, but he had never truly understood it until now. Essence was something supposed to come to find him and not the opposite. He couldn’t get a sense of it by searching himself as he was swimming within all along. He already had it. His eyes were shut, but somehow, he could feel the entire room after a minute. The bed, its small crevasses, his empty bowls, the fire dancing in the lamp. He even had a rough idea of how much oil was left, like the energy filling the room was an extension of himself—a third hand.
But he saw nothing but a night sky when he opened his eyes. Stupefied, he sprung on his feet. The stars were never brighter. Only the moon was missing. The second his gaze dropped to analyze his surroundings, he dropped right back to his buttocks.
Water, am I walking on water..? No…
Now that he was familiar with it, he could easily confirm that it was Essence. This light green energy halfway through water, air, and light flowed in seemingly infinite threads beneath him. A quantity so impressive that he could step on its soft and unstable texture. It only took a few seconds more to realize that he was completely naked. But it wasn’t the feeling disturbing him the most. On his lower back, his mark, he felt a tingle out of the ordinary, one he never experienced before. As his hand reached behind, he managed to grab it in one go—a rope.
He turned around.
It stood there, a hulking serpentine creature spiraling from the abyss to the sky. It seemed malformed but pure—a refined white scaly skin riddle with cracks exuding a jade brilliance reminding him of the Thorn. A myriad of arms, tentacles, wings, and horns sprouted out of them. He could see eyes appearing instead of appendices at times, but the biggest ones were the three nested on its head. A blend of raw power and ancient majesty. Its elongated snout was lined with scales that shimmered with the same brilliance as the cracks, each ridge almost eclipsing the stars in sharp, glinting patterns. Serrated uneven horns jutted curving like crescent moons, their texture rough as old wood. Its eyes glowed like molten suns, smoldering with a divinity piercing Kallen’s soul.
The thread of Essence escaping from his mark leads straight to it. It stood so far away as a whole ocean separated them, but their eyes still met. No. Its attention was on him from the start.
The Inverted Tree.
End of Chapter