As the sun began to rise, its rays shone bright into Travis’s face as he lay on his bed. Turning to the side to avoid the light, he felt the cold steel of the sword pressing against his cheek, startling him awake.
'Guess it’s time to wake up,' he thought, sitting up with a groggy sigh. He glanced down at himself, noticing his body drenched in sweat. His bed, soaked through, mirrored the restless night he’d endured.
'Wild night and a weird dream to top it all,' he thought, dragging himself out of bed. His gaze landed on the sword lying beside him, but this time, something caught his eye. A scabbard sat neatly next to it. He bent down, picked them both up, and slid the blade into the sheath. His hand lingered on the hilt as he muttered to himself, 'So that wasn’t a dream after all.'
---
In the dream, after enduring excruciating pain for what felt like an eternity, Travis felt the torment slowly subside. Relief spread through him, leaving his body trembling as he caught his breath. He glared at Eryndor, who was still smiling, calm and unwavering.
"Don’t ever do that again," he said, forcing himself to his feet despite the crushing weakness in his body.
Eryndor’s smile didn’t falter. Instead, his gaze seemed to deepen, as if peering into Travis’s very soul. "That is the very last time you’ll feel such pain, at least inflicted by me," Eryndor said. His tone was steady, yet it carried a weight that seemed to anchor the air around them. "Do you know anything about Coreflow, Travis?" He gestured, and two chairs materialized from nowhere. He dropped into his chair with the ease of someone who had all the time in the world.
"I was told it’s the energy in your body that helps gauge your talent. I remember using it for my evaluation when I was twelve, but I’ve never bothered with it since," Travis replied.
"They’re not wrong," Eryndor said, his voice measured and deliberate. "Coreflow is the primal energy system of your realm. It is the lifeblood of the planet, drawn from its molten core, its ley lines, or the universal force that binds all living and non-living things. In simpler terms, it is the essence of the sun itself. Without Coreflow, everything in your world would cease to exist."
Travis nodded, processing the enormity of Eryndor’s words. "So do you use Coreflow as well?" he asked.
"Oh no," Eryndor said with a faint chuckle. "I am forged from something far greater than that. But that’s a story for another time. Let’s return to Coreflow. Within your body, there are Core Nodes. These nodes are like gateways for energy, channels where Coreflow gathers and moves. They determine how much energy you can store and how effectively you can use it. If one is weak or blocked, your flow becomes disrupted, like a river hitting a dam. But when they are strong and aligned, your power flows like an unyielding current."
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"I’ve heard of that before but never understood it," Travis admitted. "I remember someone saying there are nodes in my brain, heart, palms, and feet. Am I right?"
"Yes, you are," Eryndor confirmed. "Those are your primary nodes. But there are countless others spread throughout your body, smaller yet just as vital. You’ll only come to understand their significance when you’ve attained mastery over Coreflow. For now, it is enough to focus on the basics."
Eryndor leaned forward, his expression sharpening. "Now listen carefully, Travis. While you possess my power, you are no different. Strength is not gifted; it is earned. If you are to wield me properly, you will need to work for it. That journey begins the moment you wake." His voice softened slightly, though it carried no less conviction. "This is goodbye for now. We will meet again when you’ve crossed your first milestone."
Travis opened his mouth to respond, but the world around him suddenly dissolved into darkness. Moments later, he found himself dreaming of a peaceful life with a beautiful woman who was no longer Jessica.
Travis carried the sword in his left hand, its weight familiar yet strangely comforting, and stepped out of the stable after gathering his bathing materials. The morning air was crisp, and the sun bathed the horizon in hues of gold and orange, casting a serene glow over the landscape. He walked down to the river, the soft crunch of his boots against the damp earth mingling with the distant calls of birds and the gentle rush of water.
Kneeling by the riverbank, Travis dipped his hands into the cool, clear water, relishing the refreshing sensation as he began to bathe. He scrubbed himself thoroughly, the cold water washing away the remnants of sweat and fatigue clinging to his body. His thoughts, however, were far from quiet. Questions swirled in his mind—about the dream, about the sword, and about Eryndor's cryptic words. Yet, he knew the answers wouldn’t come immediately, and there was no use dwelling on them now.
He sighed, his gaze fixed on the rippling surface of the river as his thoughts shifted to the mundane. 'Well, guess I'll be eating at Mr. Logan’s house again. I hate being a burden,' he thought with a twinge of guilt as he rinsed off the last traces of soap.
On his way back to the village, Travis took a moment to appreciate the scenery around him. The aftermath of the explosion had left the land surprisingly level, transforming it into an enchanting meadow teeming with wildflowers of every imaginable color. The delicate petals swayed gently in the breeze, creating a vibrant tapestry that seemed almost too beautiful to be real. He smiled to himself, taking in the world’s quiet beauty, before leaping over a fence and entering the village.
As he walked through the cobbled streets, the murmur of voices reached his ears, drawing his attention.
"…heard there was a man in the fields at Logan’s farm. Wonder if they caught the guy yet," a villager said, their tone laced with suspicion.
"I heard that too. What kind of evil must he have been doing to the food? May Artol save us from him," another added, their voice filled with concern.
Travis quickened his pace, his heart beating a little faster.
'I should probably hurry on to Mr. Logan’s house,' he thought, feeling a faint prickle of unease.
Once he reached his small dwelling, he changed into clean clothes and headed toward Logan’s house. The estate was a sight to behold—a large, beautifully decorated home that stood proud beside the sprawling farmland. The intricate woodwork and polished stone gave it a regal air, a reflection of the family’s status.
Logan’s lineage traced back to the first settlers of the area, and their farm had grown into a near-monopoly, making them one of the most influential families in the region.
Travis approached the door, pausing to clear his throat before knocking. Moments later, the door opened, revealing a smiling woman. She was one of the assistants, her demeanor warm and welcoming.
"Oh, Travis, do come in. The Master has been waiting for you," she said with a bright smile.
Travis nodded, returning the gesture with a polite smile as he stepped inside. The familiar scent of roasted meats and fresh bread wafted through the air, guiding him toward the dining room. It was where he spent most of his time whenever he visited, and today was no different.
As he entered, he saw Mr. Logan and his family seated around the large dining table, their voices a soft murmur of conversation. The sight made him pause, his throat tightening slightly as he gulped.
'Man, I hope it doesn’t turn awkward like normal,' he thought, steeling himself before walking further into the room.
TO BE CONTINUED