As Traden found his own resolve, destiny, and a new way.
Traden whispers to himself,for seconds to minutes.....
Ah!,
how about I try exploring the area for clues!?
he finally concludes that exploring the chamber was more a reasonable approach hence he look for more clues about the Ethereal Lattice.
While roaming around, traden suddenly touch something,
it feels like a button, as Traden put pressure on the button,
a cranking sounds, Dust falling around a square pattern
A Door triple the size of Traden slowly opened up, a light ray gushed forward into the altar, revealing a blinding lights and the bright red sun, and mountains towering peak, a monolith of nature's sheer power, pierced the heavens, challenging the sky's dominion.
The outside world!?.... it's beautiful.
Yet, amidst this serene beauty, a whisper of disquiet nestled in his chest. It was not a sound, nor a sight that stirred this feeling,
but an intuition as ancient as the hills themselves. Something was amiss.
During this, Traden's skin prickled with the sensation of unseen eyes upon him. He stood motionless, his breath a silent fog in the cooling air.
I know you're there!
thought, his gaze piercing through the dimming light, trying to catch a glimpse of the watcher in the shadows.
But he uttered not a word, allowing the silence to swell between them. It was a game of patience and wills,
Watch all you want! (he mused internally)
but you won't see the tremor in my heart nor the questions in my mind!....
He stood there for a moment longer, allowing the serenity of the landscape to seep back into his bones. The unknown intent that had so firmly grasped his attention was gone, leaving no trace behind. It was as if the land itself had exhaled, releasing the held breath of suspense.
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Traden took a big breath and smiled faintly,
a silent acknowledgment of the moment's passing.
Perhaps some mysteries are not meant to be solved.(pondered to himself)
With a last glance at the horizon, he turned and walked away, the echo of his steps a testament to the solitude that once again enveloped him.
As he moved forward, the ground trembled behind him. He paused, turning to witness the chamber's walls crumbling into dust, the ancient stones falling like a cascade of memories washing away with time.
Staring at the empty space where the chamber once stood, he murmurs to himself,
So it ends, not with fanfare or grand exits, but with silence and dust.
He takes a deep breath,his voice steadier,With a determined nod to the pile of rocks, he turns away,
Farewell, old guardian of my solitude. Your end marks my beginning.
As he utters his final words to the chamber, a faint whisper brushes against the edges of his consciousness.
It's a voice, ethereal and barely audible, as if the chamber itself is breathing a last sigh into his mind.
"Goodbye....."
The word lingers, a soft caress, a final farewell not from the world he knew, but from the memories that refuse to be left behind.
He stands still for a moment, letting the ghostly echo fade into the silence, a silent acknowledgment of the end of an era and the start of a new chapter.
As he takes his first steps into the unknown, he speaks to himself,
Here I stand, at the threshold of the future, a future unchained.
The chamber of stone, my silent custodian, is no more. In its place, a promise of the vast world awaits
He pauses, reflecting on the journey ahead, and continues.
What tales will I tell when the twilight of my days beckons me to rest?
Will they be of courage, of the sights my eyes beheld, or the hearts that beat in tune with mine?
Only the path will reveal its secrets, in time.
With a final nod to the place that once was.
"In every ending, there is a new beginning"
With that, he turns away, his heart light with the freedom of a journey just beginning, his spirit buoyed by the winds of change.
As Traden ventured forth, the floodgates of his memory flung open, each recollection a vivid stroke upon the canvas of his mind.
Yet, amidst the clarity, some memories remained elusive, shrouded in a fog-like mystery, as if key pieces of his past were ensconced in a haze, beckoning to be uncovered.
He murmured to himself, a soft soliloquy amidst the solitude.
Memories, like scattered stars, guide me through the night.
But what of these shadows that dance just beyond my grasp?
Secrets of my own life, veiled in mist—will the sun's rise grant me clarity, or are some chapters destined to remain unwritten?
With each step, Traden embraced the enigma of his own story, the known and the unknown, as he journeyed into the heart of the world and himself.
Traden's stride halted as a sudden realization dawned upon him.
He whispered to the empty air, his voice tinged with a newfound clarity.
Memories... they are not just recollections but markers of a life lived.
Yet, why do they flicker and fade, resurfacing only to retreat into the mist once more?
He shook his head, dismissing the thoughts as quickly as they came.
No, this is no time for pondering the caprices of the mind. The road ahead is long, and dangers lurk not in the shadows of memory, but in the very real shadows of the world.
With a firm nod, Traden resumed his journey, his mind now focused on the tangible path before him.....
Traden's mind was relentless, an undercurrent of whispers that refused to be silenced.
He found himself grappling with the fragments of his past, each memory surfacing with an insistence that demanded attention.
Why do these memories haunt me so?
he questioned the air, his voice barely above a murmur.
What truths are they trying to reveal?
He knew he couldn't afford the distraction, yet the pull of his own history was undeniable. With each step, the puzzle of his past beckoned, a siren call to the depths of his identity.
!Enough,!
he finally declared, a note of resolve in his tone.
The answers will come, in time. For now, I must focus on the journey, on survival. The past will not dictate my future.
And with that, Traden pushed the echoes of his memories to the back of his mind, setting his sights on the path ahead, determined to forge ahead despite the unresolved symphony of his past.