It was the same one Erik had seen in his nightmares and visions—only smaller. It seemed… younger?

Unsure of what to do, he waited to see what would happen. Despite everything, he didn't feel any ill intent from the creature.

The small vulture landed on the ground, blinked a few times and looked around. Its gaze settled on Erik, and they observed each other for a long moment.

It gave a soft croak, but didn't do much else.

Erik took a deep breath, steeling himself. Then, with careful steps, he moved forward and knelt before the bird. He opened his hand, inviting the creature. He tried to make his posture and gestures as non-threatening as he could. Still, he didn't manage to keep the slight trembles of his hand at bay.

After a heartbeat, the little feathery-thing hopped into his palm, it was light as a feather. Maybe it didn't weight anything at all. The little vulture locked eyes with him for a brief moment. It was as if it were trying to gauge him, but he couldn’t tell what it was thinking. Then it pecking him lightly, before dissolving into a swirl of teal mist that seeped into Erik’s body.

The peck, however, struck like a hammer blow.

Erik doubled over and crashed onto the dirt-covered stone floor, clutching his left forearm.

His entire body felt as though it had been plunged into ice—so cold it burned. His muscles spasmed, uncontrollably. The pain reached deep into his bones, even deeper into his very being, as if his entire existence had been consumed by burning ice.

It was so overwhelming that coherent thoughts eluded him. His wide-open eyes stared into nothingness as his mind drifted between the waking world and unconsciousness, catching glimpses of the vulture and an endless flock.

Then pain washed away Erik emotions. Nothing outside of it remained.

Utterly disoriented and caught off guard, he struggled to make sense of what was happening.

Then, as suddenly as the pain began, it subsided. It didn’t disappear completely, but it eased into a mild headache.

Breathing heavily, Erik sprawled on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“D-Damn bird… haa-haa… what… what did you do to me?”

He had never experienced so much physical pain, even when he had gotten in the fights on the streets over the years.

It took him a while to get his breathing under control and somewhat come to his senses a little bit. With what little strength he had, he unclipped his water flask from his belt and took a few sips. The water felt boiling hot and he spit it out at first, but he managed a gulp down a little.

After some more time past he regained some of his strength.

Lifting his right hand to inspect where the bird had pecked him, he froze and his pupils dilated.

On his forearm, just above his wrist, was a small Blood Rune in the image of the little vulture.

And then at that moment, he felt it—a connection with the bird.

His mind whirled.

Struggling, Erik propped himself up against one of the stone coffins.

Taking a closer look at the Blood Rune, he tried to piece together what was happening. Then it was as if a forgotten memory had resurfaced, vague images and intentions flooded his mind, offering him glimpses of something beyond his understanding.

Erik couldn’t fully comprehend it yet, but he knew one thing for certain—he had not received a Talent. This was something different.

A… a Gift?

This baffled Erik completely.

Although rare they were not unheard of.

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What puzzled him was that they were obtained by killing monsters. And he had done no such thing.

Even more puzzling was that he was not a Talent Holder. Only they had the capability to carry and wield Gifts and Blessings.

Erik probed the bond with the small vulture, and it emerged in a swirl of teal mist. It landed on the ground and chirped a few times as if trying to say something.

He was captivated by the little creature.

Gifts were an imitation of the being that was killed, with all of their abilities at the time of death. And it was believed they were created by Nelum. Both a natural occurrence and a gift to the one that did the deed. They had the capacity for limited self-direction, but did not possess a soul, and thus were not alive.

The vulture jumped in his lap, and pecked him a few times on the chest, chirping in what sounded like a warning tone.

Those pecks would have made Erik jump after what he had just endured, but he lacked the energy to react. Thankfully, nothing happened.

The little bird kept chirping a few times and slowly Erik was starting to suspected it was trying to convey something, but he was struggling to make sense of it.

He tried to staring at the Blood Rune to glean more information from it, but nothing else came to him. Maybe it was because he was not a Refiner that he couldn't learn more, he wasn't sure.

His gaze then moved to the vulture again.

"What is it little guy? What do you want to show me?"

This time he tried probing the vulture through their connection.

Then, something strange happened. Erik’s vision went black for a moment only to return, but this time he was looking at himself—as if through someone else’s eyes. He looked ragged and exhausted.

“Is that…?” he muttered and watched as his own mouth moved.

His eyes then opened wide in shock, and they were glowing with a teal glow. The experience was surreal.

He had never seen himself from the perspective of another being. He lifted his right arm and waved and saw himself do it.

Then the vulture shifted its sight, showing him more.

He saw that throughout his body there was teal mist, and as he watched, it began to shrink ever so slightly.

Is that... essence?

This was the type of energy that permeated everything. All beings were made from the three main types of essence. And it was also what Rune Bearer's used to power their Abilities and Skills. And even though it was in small amounts even normal humans had some.

Is my essence being consumed?

Before he could examine the situation further, his vision snapped back to his own body. And a bout of intense headache assaulted him. Erik gritted his teeth through it and slowly it subsided, but now it left a more persistent ache than before. He felt even more drained than before.

"What is happening?" Confused he looked at the little vulture.

Then it came to him. If he was right, then he wasn't really suppose to have this... Gift.

Refiners, regardless of their Talent or which essence they wielded, possessed stronger bodies and souls than normal humans. A regular person was too weak to bear the weight of a Gift—without that strength, his guess was that he was dying. Most likely his essence was being consumed to compensate and keep him alive.

He groaned.

Could nothing go his way? Everything was going from bad to worse today. He had failed to Awaken a Talent, and now this Gift made things even worse.

Overwhelmed he took a deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts.

Should I give it away? Was the first thing that crossed his mind, but his instincts screamed that it was a bad idea.

No matter what Rank and Grade it was, Gifts were rare. And he had no idea what someone more powerful would do if they found out about it.

He wasn't willing to risk betting his life on the good will of some stranger. Or that the law would protect him—he had no backing. Besides, he could feel that he was deeply bonded to vulture. He didn’t know if it was even possible to sever that bond safely.

He sighed.

Exhausted and overwhelmed, his mind emptied of all thoughts as he stared at the stone coffin in front of him with hollow eyes. It took him a while to notice the faint inscription on its rim, barely visible in the moonlight.

It was the same one he had seen earlier next to the tapestry of Bjorn. These were the words of the Exalted.

A small light flickered back into Erik’s eyes.

These words again…

Suddenly, he grew curious about the mausoleum and those who rested here. Slowly, he stood up on shaking legs and walked over to the stone coffin. He swept away the dust, dirt, and vegetation from its surface. And the simple carved runes of the deceased revealed themselves.

Here lays Bjorn Skuljar.

Erik eyes widened. He wasn’t expecting to see the resting place of this great figure here in this corner forgotten by time.

"Then who is in the other one?" he mumbled to himself.

He went back to the one he had been leaning on and cleaned it as well.

What he saw left him surprised, to say the least.

Here lays Murin, son of Bjorn Skuljar. A true warrior who used his powerful Talent to hold the onslaught of Nilgrim at bay.

"That’s Bjorn’s son? Wait... he Awakened a Talent?"

Erik recalled the story of Skulheim's founder and slowly, a thought began to take root in his mind. Maybe Murin just went through with the Mirmirsker ritual or maybe... he Awakened by entering a Whisper.

Can someone really do that? Can they survive?

Could Freya have been right about that? Recalling the stories she had told him, fragile hope dared to bloom within him. It had always seemed absurd to him. Even if some of the accounts were true and a person could Awaken by entering, it would still be borderline suicidal.

And why would anyone risk their life when the Mirmirsker provided a safe way to Awaken? But perhaps, if one was truly desperate… like him—because he definitely was—then they would venture into it.

“Maybe it's possible...” he whispered.

And the more he thought about it, the more the idea began to take root in his mind.

“It has to be.” He exhaled sharply, as if saying it aloud would make it true.

New resolve sparked in Erik’s eyes. He knew what he had to do.