Chapter 5: Ulythes

Ulythes is a world where reality bends and contorts like a mirage in the desert. Certain regions of the world twist the laws of reality, distorting and bending the principles that govern its rules. Some would appear as flat plains of stepping stones, while others were labyrinths of twists and turns. These spaces are called zones, a mysterious deposits of energy that interact with reality and exist within the real world.

Dungeons, on the other hand, are entirely separate from the zones. They are often found as unstable slits in empty spaces, acting as independent planes with their own unique properties, physical laws, energy fields, and temporal anomalies.

If a zone is disguised as a strand woven into the fabric of reality, a dungeon is a self-contained world, like a brush stroke painted on a canvas, forming its own unique set of rules and dimensions.

The relations of spaces that connect our world. -Rugues the transmuter.

***

Lionel had been training for days under the guidance of the half-spirits, learning the ways of the forest and honing his skills. He was exhausted but thrilled by the progress he was making. During a break in his training, Lionel found himself drawn to a piece of parchment lying nearby. He then picked it up without thinking and began to sketch.

The pencil in his hand seemed to have a mind of its own as he became fully absorbed in his creation. The parchment was soon covered in a beautiful illustration of the forest around him, with every leaf, branch, and tree carefully captured in detail. Lionel felt a sense of peace as he focused solely on his art.

The half-spirit watched in amazement as the boy's skills became more apparent with each stroke of his pencil.

"You have a gift," Thiraniel said, breaking the boy's concentration.

Lionel looked up and was surprised to find the half-spirit standing there. He felt a twinge of embarrassment and quickly tried to hide the parchment behind his back. "I don't usually draw," he said, feeling self-conscious. "It's just something I do to relax."

Thiraniel chuckled softly. "The forest speaks to you through your pencil, and you carry an ability that captures its essence in a way few others can."

Lionel was taken aback by Thiraniel's words. He had never considered his drawings to be anything special. "Really?" he asked, his voice filled with doubt.

Thiraniel nodded. "Yes, really. I believe you have a special bond with the land, as that bond is reflected in your art."

"Anima is the energy that animates all living things, giving them life and the ability to shape their surroundings. Using the right techniques, you can use your art as a channel and express that energy."

"I can teach you and harness this creativity, using your mind as an instrument to gather and convey with the anima in the world around you," Thiraniel spoke. "But first, you must understand and become one with the essence of the forest. Only then will you be able to truly bring life to your art and capture the spirit lingering from its land."

Meanwhile, in various parts of the forest, a group of spirits moved around, working tirelessly on constructing their outpost. Each half-spirit was tasked with a specific job and worked together with fluidity and ease. The half-spirits skillfully thread the branches and vines together, forming fences and shaping the ground, creating a solid foundation as they continue to develop the entire area. Their movements were fluid and natural as if the spirits were one with the elements of the forest.

Following Thiraniel's instructions, Lionel practiced his anima near the outside of the outpost. Harnessing the energy surrounding him and channeling it through his body. He focused his mind, breathing deeply, and envisioned the anima surging through him until a trace of connection coursed around him. He moved his arms and legs, inviting the anima to flow freely throughout his body, completely submerging his mind in the experience.

Lionel reached for a nearby stick and closed his eyes and focused on the anima. Suddenly, a space appeared in his thoughts as the tale of Prometheus ingrained into an image of a man giving birth to the fire for the first time. He could sense the structure of the fire infiltrating his thoughts, witnessing and staring at the fire coming to life.

"What is going on?" Lionel watched as the surreal picturesque flashed in a blink of an eye. He could feel the power of the anima surrounding him and flowing through him, yet something felt amiss. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the energy around him seemed unfamiliar to the anima enveloping him.

Lionel felt the pull of the [Ingris Slime] in his hand as he reached for the nearby stick. He retrieved the slime from his belt, tugged by a peculiar intuition. However, to his surprise, after imbuing the anima with the substance and igniting it. He observed that the liquid was instead fettered by a foreign energy, preventing him from conjuring the fire.

Confused by the situation, Lionel frowned and stared at the flame. The word [Oxygen] suddenly came to his mind, and with a brilliant thought, he distilled the anima to its basest structure. He discovered that the anima was not the only factor in creating the fire but also required other presence of elements, such as air and heat, to sustain itself. His eyes flashed with an epiphany as he finally reduced the form of the flame to its basest elements, understanding the principles behind it.

Suddenly, the strange presence of the book resurfaced in his mind, reminding him of the tale of Prometheus and how he stole the fire from the gods and gave it to humanity. He closed his eyes and carefully examined the [Ingris Slime] with his hands, sensing the liquid rubbing calmly through his skin. With a thought, he opened his eyes and stared intently at the stick, directing the foreign energy through the slime and altered it to his wishes.

Soon, the flames burst from his hands, with the stick burnt into a scorching fire.

Creating a fire at will...

***

"Interesting," Thiraniel commented, studying the stick with curiosity. "There's not a single trace of anima within this flame. It seems like you have discovered a unique form of energy."

Lionel nodded, his hand tightening around the sword hilt. "I found it when I discovered an ancient..." Lionel abruptly stopped, quickly changing his tone. "I'm not sure what it is, but it feels like a force that doesn't exist within this world."

Thiraniel noticed Lionel's hesitation and decided to loosen things up with a grin. He reached down and picked up a nearby stick, using his anima to shape it into a sturdy spear, weaving vines and moss around it with quick, flowing movements. "Force, huh? Let's see what it's made of."

Lionel's nerves were on edge, his heart throbbing with fear and excitement. The sudden appearance of the half-spirits had caught him off guard, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to be tested.

Lionel watched Thiraniel grip the spear tightly, with a wild grin spread across his face. He could feel the anticipation stirring inside him as he realized Thiraniel was about to put his knowledge to the ultimate test. The battle had come, and his mind raced with anxiety as he evaluated his own skills. Was this newfound knowledge really within him, or was it just a fluke? And if it was real, was he strong enough to control it?

Lionel felt a stir of doubt as he thought about his weakness, but he pushed those thoughts aside. He couldn't let fear hold him back. He had to believe in his heart and his abilities.

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Taking a deep breath, Lionel straightened his stance and gripped his sword tightly. He may not know much about the force yet. But he was determined to learn and improve.

If Thiraniel wanted to see what this force was made of, Lionel was eager to show him. He was determined to prove to the half-spirits and to himself that he was capable and strong.

One of the half-spirits chimed in, giving Thiraniel a playful wink. "Hey, you're not gonna bully a kid with that size, are you?" The half-spirit then leaned in with a smirk. "Though I must admit, not everyone gets to see a flame without any trace of anima in it."

Another one of the spirits caught Lionel's attention. He was tall and slender, his physique honed for sword fighting. The spirit's eyes were sharp and focused, staring at Lionel's every move. He approached Lionel, staring at his sword, uttering in a worried tone, "You better put that sword down, kid. It won't hold up." With a quick flick of his wrist, the spirit conjured a sword from his palm and tossed it toward Lionel, testing his training and abilities.

Lionel was caught off guard as the sword hurled toward him without notice, but he quickly regained his composure. He reached out with his spare hand and grabbed the sword mid-air, surprised at how easily he had grasped it. The half-spirits looked impressed, their eyebrows raised in surprise.

Suddenly, one of the half-spirits spoke up, "Looks like we've got a real fighter here. Let's see what that kid got." The others nodded in agreement, eagerly awaiting the show.

As Lionel and Thiraniel stood face to face, their weapons held ready. The half-spirits watched in curiosity and amusement. They had seen many trainees come and go, but none had shown such unique abilities. Lionel's discovery of a new energy was certainly intriguing, and the half-spirits were eager to see what it was made of.

Some of them giggled at the sight of Thiraniel's playful grin, taunting his foe with an excellent display of his spear. Meanwhile, others were in awe of Lionel's determination and focus as he swung his sword with decisive strikes.

The two began to circle each other, their eyes locked in a fierce stare down.

Lionel could feel the heat of Thiraniel's gaze on him as he searched for an opening. Thiraniel's spear blurred in motion as he swung it back and forth, taunting Lionel to make a move. Lionel's heart thumped as he felt his grip on his sword grow tighter and tighter with each passing moment.

Lionel sprang forward with lightning speed, his sword slicing through the air toward Thiraniel. Thiraniel was ready and deftly blocked Lionel's attack with the spear. The two weapons clashed with a loud clang, sending sparks flying in all directions.

The half-spirits let out a cheer, their eyes shining with excitement. "Whoa, this is gonna be a good one!" one of the spirits shouted. "I knew that kid was gonna put up a fight!"

As the two charged at each other, the half-spirits watched in awe as the air around them crackled with energy. Thiraniel's spear thrummed with anima while Lionel's sword blazed with strange force. The two clashed in a steady rhythm, their weapons striking each other, sending sparks flying through the air.

As the fight neared its climax, Thiraniel and Lionel stood facing each other, both panting heavily. Thiraniel's grin was still present, but Lionel's face was filled with determination. They both raised their weapons, ready to deliver the final blow.

"Molecular enchantment," Lionel muttered. The elements around him suddenly hummed with intensity, responding to his words.

Lionel could feel the heat from the sun—the temperature of the air around him, as the moisture in the ground converged towards him. The spark quickly grew into flames, wielding his sword cloaked with flames.

The half-spirits watching at their seat stared in wonder. "The fire comes to life." one of the spirits said.

"This is it! The moment I've been training for," Lionel declared with conviction. He could feel the life force of the [Ingris Slime] pulsing through his sword, granting him insight into its very essence. He could sense and perceive the layers of the substance stripped through its core.

As Thiraniel prepared to deliver the decisive strike. Lionel pulled out his trump card. And with a quick movement, he smeared his sword with the [Ingris Slime], infusing it with the mysterious energy he had finally harnessed. With a final burst of energy, Lionel swung his sword with all his might, unleashing a powerful blast of energy. Thiraniel's eyes widened in surprise as the attack struck him in the chest, flinging him back several feet.

Resisting the blow, Thiraniel firmly planted his feet and laid his ground, and roared with fierce agressiveness. He gathered his strength and stood back up. And with a swift and decisive strike, Thiraniel deftly spun his spear, disarming Lionel and bringing the fight to a sudden end. Lionel's sword clattered to the ground as Thiraniel lowered his spear, bringing the fight to the end.

The half-spirits cheered and applauded, congratulating Lionel on his remarkable performance.

"Impressive," Thiraniel said, nodding his head in approval. "It seems that you have discovered a new form of energy, one that is truly unique. I have never seen anything like it before."

Thiraniel offered a hand to Lionel, helping him to his feet. "Heh, you did a number to me, Kid. You have a rare gift. Though that sword of yours needs a bit of training." He chuckled as he noticed Lionel's swordsmanship still bit amateur on the side.

As the applause died down. The half-spirit who had previously given Lionel the sword stepped forward, his eyes frowned sharply like a sword unsheathed from its slumber. "Unique?" he called out, his voice reverberating through the field where Thiraniel and Lionel fought. "Or Heresy?"

The half-spirits in the area suddenly fell silent as their eyes turned to the swordsman and introduced himself. "I am Morgan," he said, his voice deep and powerful. "Tell me, Lionel. If an army were to rise against us. Who would you stand with? The half-spirits or the humans?"

Lionel stood there, listening to Morgan's words. The weight of his words stirred something deep within him. He was still a child, still trying to understand his place in this world, and the conflict between the half-spirits and humans made it even more confusing. He clutched the sword tighter, still shaking from the previous battle.

Morgan raised and pointed his hand to the sword in Lionel's hand as the remnants of its energy from the previous battle still lingered around it. "This weapon represents our struggle," Morgan voice resounded with conviction. "It symbolizes the power we possess and the choices we have made. But it also represents the danger we face, the persecution from those who fear our differences and the threat we pose to their beliefs."

Lionel stared at the sword in his hand, feeling proud and conflicted. He was proud to have received the weapon and met alongside the half-spirits, but he couldn't help but wonder what it all meant.

Was he a heretic, as Morgan claimed? Or was he something more, something unique? Lionel suddenly felt a sudden urge to turn and run, to escape the conflict and run from the answers that plagued him.

Morgan's eyes roamed over the half-spirits in the area, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt. "They would have labeled us as heretics," he said in an absolute manner.

"They would have sought to wipe us out, to eliminate all evidence of our existence. And why?" He raised his hands to the sky, his voice growing even louder.

"Because we are not like them. We do not conform to their narrow definition of what it means to be a spirit. "We are something new, something different, and that something threatens their very existence."

"Morgan, what are you doing? This is not your place to decide!" Thiraniel voice echoed throughout the field.

Silence reigned for a second as Thiraniel's words reached in everyone's ears. Lionel could feel the tension brewing in the air and sense the conflict rising between Thiraniel and Morgan. The eyes of all the half-spirits gathered around him, waiting for him to take a stand and choose a side whose weight bears the right choice. The anticipation weighed upon him, wrapping him in a storm of conflicting emotions.

"Heresy?" The word resounded like a thunderclap in Lionel's mind as he clutched the sword tightly in his hands, its reflection staring deep into his eyes.

"Is the sword? No... It's that knowledge, a knowledge yet to be seen." Lionel thought, the trace of its energy still lingering around his hand.

"Lionel, snap back to it. Don't let him sway your thoughts." Suddenly, a voice brought Lionel back to the present, which a half-spirit flew enraged. Thiraniel turned his head to Morgan and shouted, "Leave your bullshit aside, and leave the kid alone. Heresy or not, the kid has nothing to do with this."

Morgan, who had been trying to stir Lionel into compliance, laughed at the half-spirit words. "Ah, Thiraniel, always the voice of reason. But really, what do you know? The boy has more power in him than he realizes. And I intend to unlock it."

"The boy has a choice, and I will not let you force him into anything. You may have convinced our brethren with your words, but you will not convince me."

Morgan smirked. "Choice? What choice does he have? He is a part of this world, bound by its laws and its powers. He cannot escape his destiny, not even with your protection." Thiraniel's eyes narrowed as he glared at Morgan.

Morgan continued to speak on the audience behalf as his eyes glinted with amusement, stepping forward. "Ah, always so cautious, until what end? What are you going to do if the boy chooses to embrace his own powers and join us? Will you stand in his way? Will you break your own principles for the sake of your precious morality?"

Thiraniel's eyes glared with fury as he took another step forward. "I will never stand in the way of someone's choice, but I will not let you manipulate and deceive them into making the wrong one. The boy is innocent and deserves the chance to decide his own path." Thiraniel paused, the anima churning around him.

"And I will not let you take that away from him."

Thiraniel raised his hand and gestured towards the shadows, signaling Theo to come forward behind the trees. Theo's eyes flashed for a second as he slowly landed on his feet. The trees swayed in restless along with the dust brushing against the ground.

Thiraniel turned to the man beside him. "Theo, I need you to take Lionel to the outpost. He's too young to fully understand what's happening here."

Theo nodded. "Do you understand?" He approached Lionel and reached out his hand. "Go with me. Do not concern yourselves with the quarrel of some immature brats."

Theo cast a spell softly as ripples of anima surged from his hands. With a flick of his wrist, a wall of vines erupted from the ground, encasing Lionel in a cocoon of nature magic. Theo's eyes narrowed in concentration as he carefully lifted Lionel off the ground, cradling him in the vines.

Morgan's smile faded as he saw the boy leave. "Very well, Thiraniel. We shall see who is right. But know this. The boy's power will not go unnoticed. It will be eventually desired, and those who possess it will stop at nothing to gain it.

"Your protection will only last so long."

With that, Morgan turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Thiraniel alone.

Thiraniel sighed heavily. "Of all the people."