Seeker, Rhys, and Luke reach a hill, overlooking the city of Amana.
The horizon stretches out before them, a canvas of muted colors—soft grays and dusky blues—where the sun has not yet fully risen. Their eyes scan the expanse, vigilant for any sign of movement. The Seeker’s heart thrums; he can almost taste the tension in the air.
But there is nothing. No approaching hordes, no ominous shadows on the outskirts. Just Amana, standing defiant.
As they begin their descent down the hill, the ground shifts beneath their boots. Each step is a negotiation with the uneven terrain—a dance of balance and caution. The path winds through gnarled roots and loose stones, leading them closer to the heart of the city.
The scent of pine and damp earth envelops them, carried by a gentle breeze. In the distance, a river murmurs—a soothing undertone to the world’s chaos.
The city’s ancient walls encircle it, their stones weathered by centuries. Ivy and moss cling to the surface, as if nature itself seeks to reclaim what has been lost. The main gate, massive and iron-clad, groans open to admit them.
Guards—few but vigilant—keep watch from the ramparts. Their eyes scan the horizon, ever wary.
The streets of Amana are like forgotten pages of history. Buildings lean against one another, their facades worn by wind and time. Vines creep upward, claiming the walls in a slow embrace. Fragrant herbs spill from window boxes, a testament to resilience.
As dawn tiptoes over the rooftops, the city bathes in golden light. Shadows stretch across cobblestone streets, dancing like memories. Birds call from hidden perches, and leaves rustle in the breeze. Yet beneath the tranquility lies an unspoken fear—an awareness that darkness still prowls beyond the walls.
At the city’s heart stands the Sanctuary—a structure both hospital and refuge. Its spire reaches toward the sky, a beacon for those seeking solace. Stone and metal meld in its construction, and sunlight streams through its generous windows. Symbols adorn its exterior, warding off unseen threats. A small garden at its base offers a quiet sanctuary for reflection.
Amana, with its ancient walls, imposing gate, and the Sanctuary’s sentinel presence, symbolizes defiance. Its few inhabitants—united by determination—hold onto hope like fragile lanterns in the night. They haven’t sought the enigmatic powers that have shattered civilizations; instead, they cradle simplicity and peace in their modest homes.
As the trio passes through the gate, the city seems to slumber. Only the two guards remain awake, their eyes heavy but watchful. They nod in acknowledgment.
Rhys, her shoulders relaxing, exhales as if releasing a burden. “Finally!” she murmurs. “Rest awaits.” Her eyes sparkle, and she nudges the Seeker playfully. “You’ll love this place.”
Luke, ever practical, turns to the Seeker. “Let me show you where you’ll stay.”
Yet as they walk the quiet streets, the Seeker feels eyes upon him—unseen observers in the shadows. He glances around, but nothing reveals itself. The mystery of Amana deepens.
They continue walking until they reach a modest house, its exterior worn but well-kept. The wooden door creaks as Luke pushes it open, revealing a simple yet cozy interior.
Luke gestures towards the door. “This will be your place for the night. Me and Rhys are going to wander off. You stay here, get some rest, you need it.”
Rhys waves at the Seeker, her expression softening. “We’ll be back soon. Take care.”
As the Seeker watched them walk away, he felt a mix of relief and unease [https://img.wattpad.com/e64d3ed945126dc464e78269357c156b0560582f/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f31493756462d44473445377552673d3d2d313437353635313533302e313766336232643365303765306237613338373435313538313832372e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
As the Seeker watches them walk away, a strange mix of relief and unease washes over him.
The house is eerily quiet, almost too quiet, and he can’t shake the feeling that unseen eyes are watching him.
He takes a deep breath, trying to dispel the paranoia, and steps inside, closing the door softly behind him.
The interior is simple yet cozy, with a small bed and a table illuminated by the flickering light of a candle. He sits down, his mind racing with the day’s events. Despite the room’s comfort, an unsettling feeling lingers.
Exhaustion finally claims him as he lies down.
Just as his eyes begin to close, a sudden knock at the door jolts him awake!
Startled, the Seeker sits up. “The door knocking?” he mutters to himself.
He approaches the door, confusion furrowing his brow, and swings it open.
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Standing there is a little girl clinging to the arm of an old man.
“Hello!” the Seeker says, trying to hide his surprise.
“Welcome to Amana, honored one. Mind you not our intrusion at this hour!” the old man says, his voice gentle yet firm.
“Not at all,” the Seeker replies, his curiosity piqued.
“Ah, but the dawn holds its own secrets,” the old man continues, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I am Symere, and this brave one is Samantha.” The little girl peeks out from behind Symere, her gaze curious and unyielding. “Samantha, mind you say hello,” he encourages.
The little girl, snapping out of her shyness, waves and says, “Hi!”
The Seeker smiles, feeling strangely comforted by their unexpected arrival. “Hi there.”
Symere continues, “Now please, follow me. Tea awaits.”
The Seeker nods and follows Symere and Samantha, who keep glancing back at him with curious eyes. The little girl clings to Symere’s arm, guiding him carefully as they walk. Her small steps are deliberate, ensuring Symere’s path is clear.
They soon arrive at a modest house near the Seeker’s temporary abode. The house, much like the others in Amana, exudes a welcoming aura.
Symere opens the door, and they step inside.
The interior is warm and inviting, with a small fireplace crackling softly in the corner. A simple wooden table is set with a teapot and three cups. The scent of freshly brewed tea fills the air, mingling with the faint aroma of herbs hanging from the ceiling.
Symere gestures to the table. “Please, have a seat,” he says, his voice gentle yet firm.
Samantha climbs onto a chair, her eyes never leaving the Seeker. “Do you like tea?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
The Seeker smiles, feeling a sense of calm wash over him. “I think I do,” he replies, scratching his head and taking a seat.
Symere pours the tea, the liquid steaming as it fills the cups. “This tea is special,” he says, handing a cup to the Seeker. “I hope you like it.”
The Seeker takes a sip, the warmth spreading through his body. “Thank you, it’s very good,” he says, feeling a bit more at ease.
Symere nods thoughtfully. “I can see you have many questions. Mind you telling me first about your journey?”
“My journey,” the Seeker begins, tracing the rim of his teacup, “is one of fragments.” Memories shattered like glass, scattered across this altered world.
Amidst the quiet, the Seeker begins his tale. Symere listens intently as the Seeker takes his time, recounting his journey from the moment he woke up to his arrival here.
“I seek answers,” the Seeker confesses. “Purpose. Why am I here? What role do I play? Who am I, and why can’t I remember?”
Symere leans forward, his blind eyes unyielding. “Amana,” he says, “is a place of convergence. Here, threads intersect—those of the Anathema, relentless in their pursuit, and those of the city’s inhabitants, clinging to life amidst ruins.”
He pauses, then continues, “As Rhys mentioned, the people of this city gave up their powers long ago to live ordinary lives. We know little of what happens beyond these walls.” He takes a thoughtful sip of his tea and adds, “Even if you ask around, you won’t find the answers you seek.”
Symere’s voice softens, “Seeker of Truth, mind you wait for Fia and Beyond to return. They are the guardians of this city and may hold the answers you need. For now, rest and wait, as the day is still unfolding.”
Symere gently pats Samantha’s head and says, “Samantha, mind you walking Seeker back to his abode?”
Samantha’s small hand slips into the Seeker’s, her grip surprisingly strong. “Come,” she says with a steady voice.
As the Seeker absorbs Symere’s words, he steps towards the door, Samantha’s small hand firmly in his. Just as he is about to step outside, Symere’s voice echoes one last time, “How bittersweet is the piece of sugar that gives the tea all its flavor and then disappears, leaving the praise for the tea, not the sugar." He pauses and adds, "Come back any time for a talk and some tea if you want. And remember, Seeker, the truth you seek can either set you free or bind you in chains.”
The door clicks shut behind him.
But then, a voice—a whisper from the darkness: “Is he telling the truth, Symere?”
Symere’s reply is measured, “Yes, I don’t sense any dishonesty.”
“Good,” says the person behind him, hidden in the shadows.
Stepping into view, it becomes clear. It is Luke!
He sits at the table, pouring tea with the ease of someone who has seen too much.
THE SCENE SHIFTS TO THE SEEKER WALKING BACK WITH SAMANTHA
After escorting the Seeker, Samantha waves goodbye and heads back. The Seeker, weary and burdened by the day’s revelations, seeks solace within the modest home. The bed cradles him, its worn sheets a cocoon against the world’s chaos. His heavy eyelids finally surrender to gravity. In that quiet space, the Seeker drifts, carried by the currents of exhaustion and the promise of someone near.
THE SCENE SHIFTS TO RHYS WALKING WITH THREE KIDS THROUGH THE GATE
The sun starts to rise, casting a golden hue over the training grounds near the city. Rhys stands before Light, Cyrus, and Noah, ready to begin their training session.
“Alright, everyone, gather around!” Rhys calls out. “Today, we’re going to focus on controlling and directing your powers. Remember, control is key! Light, you’re up first.”
Light steps forward, his eyes filled with determination. “Got it! What should I do?”
“I want you to generate a small electric spark in your hand and keep it steady. Focus on maintaining its intensity,” Rhys instructs.
Light concentrates, and a small electric spark appears in his hand. “Like this?”
“Perfect! Keep it steady,” Rhys encourages. “Now, Cyrus, your turn. I want you to channel your energy into your fist and demonstrate a controlled meteor punch.”
Cyrus steps forward, his fist glowing as he channels his energy. “Okay, here goes!” He punches forward with a controlled burst, the ground shaking slightly from the impact.
“Excellent control, Cyrus. Noah, let’s see you dodge these fireballs. Ready?” Rhys asks, turning to the last student.
Noah nods, his body tense with anticipation. “Ready!”
Rhys begins throwing small fireballs at Noah, who deftly dodges each one with impressive agility. “Great agility, Noah! You’re all doing fantastic. Remember, the more you practice, the better control you’ll have over your powers,” Rhys says, her voice filled with pride.
THE SCENE SHIFTS BACK TO THE SEEKER
Who is now lying in bed, deep in sleep. Suddenly, a piercing scream shatters the silence. A scream escaping from someone else’s lips!
“Huh!..” His heart races as he sits up, trying to make sense of the noise.
He quickly gets out of bed and rushes to the door, flinging it open. To his shock, the entire city is enveloped in a dense fog. Visibility is almost zero; he can barely see a few feet ahead.
The silence is broken by distant sounds of fear.
He steps out, his senses on high alert, trying to navigate through the thick, impenetrable mist.
Now fully awake and alert, he strains his ears to catch any sound. “What’s happening?” he mutters to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. “Hello? Is anybody there?” he calls out, his voice echoing eerily in the fog.
Suddenly, the piercing scream rings out again, louder and more desperate this time. His heart pounds in his chest as he instinctively moves towards the source of the sound. His footsteps are cautious yet swift, each step echoing in the unnerving silence.
As he navigates through the dense fog, the scream comes again, guiding him like a beacon. He quickens his pace, his senses heightened, ready for whatever lies ahead.
The fog seems to thicken, making it even harder to see, but he presses on, determined to find the source of the distress.
He squints through the thick fog, trying to make out the shapes moving in the distance. Something unusual catches his eye, a shadowy figure gliding silently.
“H-huh?” he stammers, his breath catching in his throat. Before he can react, another figure emerges from the fog, its form monstrous and menacing.
His heart races as screams echo from every corner, mingling with the guttural growls of the creature.
He instinctively backs away, his eyes wide with fear. Through the swirling mist, he sees two figures locked in combat. One of them, moving with deadly precision, slices through the other.
The victorious figure turns its head slowly, its gaze locking onto him!
Panic surges through him as the figure begins to walk, then break into a run, heading straight for him.
His mind races, his body frozen in place, as the figure closes the distance.
Just as the monstrous figure is about to reach him, another shadowy form leaps out from the fog, tackling the attacker to the ground.
The new figure growls menacingly, its strength overwhelming.
To his horror, the new figure begins to disassemble the attacker’s body limb by limb, the gruesome sight making his stomach churn.
His eyes widen in shock, and he claps a hand over his mouth, feeling the bile rise in his throat.
He can’t tear his gaze away from the horrifying scene.
Finally, the Seeker’s survival instincts kick in. He turns to run, shouting desperately for his companions, “Rhys!! Luke!!”