The rain continued steadily into the morning, soaking the mossy paths and lending the world a muted, gray tone. Despite the dreary weather, the group pressed onward, their cloaks pulled tight against the damp chill.

The old man from the Earth Temple was nowhere to be seen, his mysterious disappearance leaving them with more questions than answers. But there was no time to linger. Their final destination lay to the south: the Water Temple.

They followed the path as it descended into a valley, winding along a small stream that grew wider and swifter as they approached a vast, shimmering lake. The lake’s surface was dark under the overcast sky, rippling gently in the rain. At its edge stood the ruins of the Water Temple, a hauntingly beautiful structure that seemed to defy time.

The building stood on stilts, its foundation anchored directly into the lake. Though its walls were crumbling, they retained an ethereal elegance, adorned with stones in varying shades of blue. The remnants of intricate carvings suggested the once-vivid depiction of a water scene—a flowing river, cascading waterfalls, and leaping fish. Time and weather had eroded the details, but the artistry still hinted at the temple's former grandeur.

Crossing a narrow, weathered bridge that led to the temple’s entrance, the group stepped into the structure. Inside, the air was cool and damp, carrying the faint scent of moss and stone.

At the exact center of the building stood a fountain of breathtaking craftsmanship. Water flowed from its pinnacle in an unbroken cascade, spilling down into a wide, shallow pool. The sound of the water was soothing, yet it carried an undercurrent of melancholy that seemed to mirror the atmosphere of the temple itself.

A stone statue stood beside the fountain, depicting a woman in flowing robes. She held a sword whose point rested on the ground between her feet, her hands clasped over the hilt. Her head was bowed, and her eyes, though made of stone, gave the impression of being closed in solemn contemplation.

Reya felt a shiver run down her spine as her gaze fell on the statue. Something about it seemed hauntingly familiar, but before she could dwell on the feeling, the sound of footsteps echoed through the chamber.

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A gruff voice broke the silence.

“I told you this wasn’t the way,” the voice said irritably. “But did you listen? No. And now we’re late.”

The group turned to see an old man striding into the room, his face partially obscured by a hood. His clothes were simple but practical, damp from the rain.

Reya’s breath caught in her throat. It was him—the man from her dream. He looked exactly as he had then, as if no time had passed.

The man didn’t acknowledge them. Instead, he continued speaking as if to someone walking beside him, though there was no one there.

“Of course you wouldn’t understand. You’ve always been impulsive,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Do you even remember why we came here?”

The group exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to react. Reya stepped forward hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Excuse me…”

The man ignored her completely, continuing his one-sided conversation. “The fountain’s still flowing, you know. Remarkable, really. But it won’t last forever, not with the way things are.”

He moved toward the fountain, his steps slow but deliberate, his gaze fixed on the cascading water. For a moment, the group stood frozen, watching him as though he were some ghost from the temple’s past.

Reya’s heart pounded. She knew this man held answers, not only about the temple but about her dream. Summoning her courage, she stepped closer, determined to confront him.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice stronger this time. “Why are you here?”

The man paused, his head tilting slightly as if he’d heard her—but he didn’t turn around.

“It’s not time yet,” he said cryptically, his tone soft but firm. Then, without another word, he turned and began walking toward the back of the temple, disappearing into the shadows.

Reya stood frozen, her mind racing. The rain outside grew heavier, the sound mingling with the fountain’s endless flow. The others moved closer to her, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern.

“Reya,” Lina said gently, placing a hand on her arm. “Are you all right?”

Reya shook her head, her thoughts still swirling. “I’ve seen him before,” she murmured. “In my dream. He... he hasn’t aged a day.”

Kai glanced toward the shadows where the man had vanished, frowning. “We need to find him. He might know something—about this place, about the trials.”

Amaya nodded in agreement, gripping the hilt of her sword. “Let’s not waste time. If he knows anything, we need answers.”

Reya swallowed hard, her determination solidifying. She looked back at the fountain and the statue, feeling a strange connection to the temple’s solemn beauty. Then, with a nod, she followed the others deeper into the ruins, the echoes of the old man’s voice still lingering in her mind.