“How does it work?”

Asdras stared into the dark red water, his reflection a ghostly outline on the surface. Moonlight mingled with the crimson hue, painting his image like an unfinished canvas

His face appeared as a series of wavering distortions, gentle ripples transforming his features into fleeting, fragmented glimpses. His messy hair floated like shadows in the water, framing his round, searching eyes as if he were trying to study himself.

“It’s different, y’see…”

Second spotted some wood beams lying in ruins on the ground, with ropes and fabrics wrapped around them. He knelt and carefully untied the rope, unraveling the tangled mass with practiced hands.

The fabric, though worn and dusty, was still sturdy enough. He spread it out, draping it over the animal's carcass and wrapping it tightly to secure the load.

With deft movements, he tied two strong knots, creating makeshift handles for a better grip. He hoisted the animal with ease, the fabric providing a more comfortable and secure way to carry it.

“There are different ways to awaken power. Each region and culture has its own method. I heard that in the north, they use a special tea with mushrooms. Here, we use the wheel.”

Second walked towards Asdras and fixed his gaze on the wheel.

“It used to be clean and crystalline, but now…”

Asdras used the moment of silence to look at the statue, then at the water, and finally at Second, noticing his mood shifting.

“Do I need to drink it?”

“Yes.”

“Any advice?”

Second chuckled softly and began dragging the animal back towards the path they came from. Asdras instinctively moved to follow, his body tensing, but halted when Second spoke.

“Be alone; that’s my advice. And don’t drink too much; it probably tastes sour now. I’ll wait for you at the campsite; this animal needs to be cleaned and sliced.”

Asdras's thoughts raced to form a response, but watching Second go and feeling the sword in his hand made him voice his primary concern.

“Your sword…”

Second paused for a moment, then turned his head to stare at Asdras with a wide smile.

“Kid, with or without the sword, I’m still awakened. The only thing here that could kill me is that monster. And…”

Second analyzed him up and down, reminiscing about his own youth when a sword in his hand and a crow on his shoulder were all he needed, then turned back to walk, his voice drifting in the air.

“It’s yours now. Consider it my gift to you. See you later.”

As Asdras watched Second's figure fade into the distance, he stood like a statue, lost in contemplation. Alone, the forest transformed into a realm of heightened senses and profound solitude.

The hissing sound of insects filled the air. Leaves scratched and rustled, moved by the wind, their soft, persistent song an eerie accompaniment to the night's symphony. An occasional crow's caw echoed, a stark reminder of unseen watchers.

The darkness around him grew deeper and more enveloping, yet the thin silver beams of moonlight seemed to shine brighter. They illuminated the forest floor in ghostly patterns, allowing Asdras to see the dust motes dancing in spiral movements like tiny stars in an inverted sky. Each breath he took was slow and deliberate, the cool night air filling his lungs and grounding him in this strange, silent world.

He emerged from his trance when he felt the grip on his sword slip, noticing with a start that his palms were red from the pressure he had unconsciously exerted. The rough hilt had pressed into his skin, leaving imprints that matched his mood.

“I guess I am on my own…”

He turned and stared at the wheel, letting his sword rest on the dark stones. Clumsily, he maneuvered his hands, trying to figure out how to drink the water.

It was a simple task — to shape his hand like a shell — but his mind worked against him, his body attempting one thing while his thoughts dictated another. Frustrated, he sighed deeply and, abandoning his careful attempts, dove headfirst into the water, almost drowning as he gulped a handful.

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The instant the water touched his lips, he regretted it. The taste was unlike anything he had experienced — a vile mixture of rot and decay, reminiscent of the stench from the transformed trees he saw earlier.

He yanked himself away from the wheel, stumbling back to the ground. Coughing hard, he struggled to breathe, the foul taste lingering in his mouth and nearly causing him to vomit.

“Dammit! This is madness!”

He cursed violently, hoping the foul taste would fade away, but instead, it grew stronger, forcing him to retch and vomit. He staggered to his feet and leaned his back against the cold, dark stones, seeking stability.

His body temperature rose rapidly, a feverish heat spreading through his limbs. His eyes widened in panic, and he clawed at the ground, his fingers digging deep into the earth, pulling up clumps of soil in a desperate attempt to anchor himself.

His head spun, his vision warping into a chaotic whirl of black, red, and white. The world around him dissolved into a disorienting blur, each color merging and clashing violently.

He tried to stand, his legs trembling, but another wave of nausea hit him, and he vomited again, his body convulsing. As he stumbled, the hard ground rose to meet him, the impact jarring and unforgiving. Darkness closed in swiftly, his vision narrowing to a pinpoint before his eyes shut, leaving him unconscious.

Asdras had no sense of how much time had passed. He felt disoriented, his eyes refusing to open and his ears muffled as if submerged in water. Sharp pain throbbed in his head, each pulse intensifying until it felt like he was being repeatedly stabbed.

The agony grew unbearable, and he became aware of warm liquid seeping over his nose. With a sudden, gasping breath, he woke abruptly, his body jerking backward as he scrambled away on his hands and feet, his eyes darting wildly around.

The world had stopped spinning, but something felt profoundly different within him and in the place he found himself. His surroundings seemed sharper, almost too real, with each detail standing out with unnerving clarity.

He could feel the lingering traces of the dark water's foulness in his mouth, and the eerie stillness of the night pressed down on him, heavy and expectant. As he tried to gather his bearings, the oppressive silence of the forest seemed to hum with tension, as if holding its breath for what might come next.

"Madness! Madness, I say! The fool child tries again! Curses upon his persistence!"

When Asdras heard the wicked, tenor-like voice, he lurched forward and pivoted so hard he almost fell. His eyes darted frantically around the clearing until they locked onto a crow perched near his sword.

This crow was unlike any he had ever seen; its human-like expression and the way it turned its head sent a shiver down his spine. He thought he was hallucinating, the eerie voice echoing in his mind, until the crow spoke again, its beady eyes glinting with unsettling intelligence.

"Foolish child! Madness, I say! Glad it was his final folly!"

Asdras froze, his breath catching in his throat. The sight of the crow's sharp beak moving in tandem with the words it uttered left him dazed and rooted to the spot.

“What!”

Asdras shook off his doziness and cautiously approached the crow, each step measured and deliberate. When he was just two steps away, he lunged, his hands closing around empty air. He crashed to the ground, the stones kissing his jaw painfully, water splashing over his head and shoulders.

"Cursed wretch, I declare! Pathetic, so weak!"

The crow's mocking voice rang out again, causing Asdras to scramble to his feet. Grabbing his sword, he scanned the area, his eyes locking onto the crow perched on a nearby barrel.

Determined, he readied himself, moving slowly toward the barrel, his grip tightening on his sword's hilt.

"Lost soul's last chance, indeed! Finally, some peace for me!"

The crow's voice taunted him once more. Asdras dashed forward, slashing at the barrel with all his might. His sword met nothing but eroding wood, splintering the barrel into useless fragments. He stood amidst the debris, breathing heavily, frustration and confusion mounting as the crow's laughter seemed to surround him.

“Dammit! What is this?!”

"Come closer now, little lost one — Uncle's got a tale to share!"

Asdras noticed the crow perched on an oddly situated tree, surrounded by decayed wood beams from what might have once been a house. A surge of inexplicable anger rose within him at the sight of the crow.

He didn't understand why he felt so angry or why he was acting impulsively. It was as if he had woken up in a different body, playing a role on a grand stage, and the crow was the elusive prize he needed to catch.

Driven by this bizarre compulsion, he raced towards the tree and slashed at it with all his might. The crow's sarcastic voice echoed from a different spot, causing Asdras to pause, his mind suddenly clearing.

He felt a strange difference in his body, a newfound power he hadn't noticed before. The surge of adrenaline and confusion made it difficult to process at first, but as he replayed his actions, a gasp escaped his lips.

From the barrel to the tree, he had covered a distance spanning almost two houses, and he had done it quickly. He looked at the tree trunk he had struck, now lying five meters away, realizing his newfound strength had sent it flying with impossible force.

Asdras turned and spotted the crow perched on the statue, mimicking the pose of the stoned crow on the woman's shoulder. The sight filled him with frustration, not only because his previous efforts seemed futile but also because the crow now occupied a place out of his reach.

The thought of jumping and striking crossed his mind, but fear of falling into the foul water and respect for Second and the village held him back.

Sighing deeply, Asdras walked closer to the statue, trying to assess his situation. Each step felt heavy with frustration and confusion. He studied the crow, its beady eyes glinting mockingly in the moonlight, as if challenging him.

‘This is the awakening?’

As he drew near, he tried to clear his mind, focusing on understanding the strange turn of events and his newfound strength.

"Step forth at once! Answer my three queries true; delight me, and your name shall be known."