The expedition pressed deeper into the lands beyond the village, traveling past mountains choked with mist and forests where old spirits whispered in the wind. With every step the horizon grew wider, but so did the sense of approaching peril—an invisible weight on every shoulder, a chill that never quite faded from the spine.
The group moved in silence. Yian walked close beside Lei, ever vigilant, while the warriors and scouts fanned out, eyes wary for any flicker in the shadow. Mana pulses twisted unnaturally; some distances seemed to stretch or shrink, as if the fabric of reality itself was being tested.
Lei, the Blind God, felt the disturbance more deeply than the others. Not only could he sense the convoluted mana streams—he could hear, sometimes, faint echoes in the void. Whispers. Fragments of stories, ancient and tangled, barely remembered by the world.
Visions in the Night
That evening, the expedition's camp flickered with nervous energy. Fires burned small and smoky, casting shuddering light over anxious faces. Lei retreated beyond the circle of warmth, settling himself beneath an ancient tree whose roots curled like sleeping serpents.As he wrapped the cloth over his eyes and slipped into meditation, the world began to melt away.Inside the void, he dreamed—not the dream of sleep, but the waking vision of memory itself.
He fell, spiraling through darkness, until the stars returned and the cosmos became a living tapestry.Before him stood an immense figure—draped in flowing robes of midnight, hair whiter than the edge of dawn. His eyes were hidden by a band of silver, and his presence made the universe tremble."You have come far," the figure intoned, voice resonant with eternity. "Do you know who I am?"Lei felt the answer before he spoke it. "You are the First God. The one who forged the void from chaos."The god nodded, and with a motion, worlds unfurled—realms rising and crumbling in the space of one breath."I was also blind," the god said, "but my blindness was a gift, not a curse.
When denied the sight of mortals, I found the sight of eternity."Tears threatened to break through Lei's stoicism. "I am afraid," he confessed, "not of the darkness, but of what I might become within it.""Fear is the birth of wisdom," the god replied. "Remember this: power gained without understanding destroys. Seek the truth behind your memories—what makes you, you.
Only then will the void serve, not consume."The vision shattered as dawn summoned Lei back to reality. His chest ached—not from the journey outside, but from the changes brewing deep inside.
A Day of Trials
After a sparse breakfast, the expedition pressed on. The land's corruption deepened; twisted paths led through groves where trees bled black sap, and the air buzzed with static discord.Suddenly, a screech split the silence. Warriors sprang to arms as shadow beasts burst from the brush, bodies flickering between substance and nothingness.Lei gripped his cloth, bracing himself. Time slowed—the world pulsed in dreamlike motion.He felt the lines of space, the threads connecting all being. With a thought, manipulated them—slowly at first, then with growing confidence. Spears of void snapped out, shattering beasts with cold flashes of power.A particularly large beast—fanged and roiling with distorted mana—lunged at Yian. Lei reacted, channeling force through his voice."Yield!" he demanded.Space between Lei and the beast thinned, the creature's scream swallowed by pure nothingness. It vanished, leaving only ripples of fear and awe.The warriors stared, part terrified, part exultant."Is he… mortal?" one whispered.Yian stood, battered but grinning. "He's many things, but dangerous is high on the list."
The Forgotten Temple
Later that day, drawn by the pulse of the void, Lei led the group to a ruin—columns tumbled and moss-covered, archways crumbling in silent testimony to ages lost. An inscription, half-buried in dirt, glimmered in mana-sensitive ink.Lei knelt, reading with power rather than eyes."In the name of the First God," he intoned, "let memory awaken."A hush fell.The ground trembled. A cold wind raced along ancient stone, and the cloth over Lei's eyes stung—as if some great truth waited to burst forth.The group followed, deeper into the broken temple. Statues lined the halls, faces veiled, hands stretched toward the heavens.In a chamber at the heart, Lei stopped.Here, the void pressed close—so thick it was almost physical, trembling with possibility and danger. Images flooded his mind: the First God meditating, shaping worlds, forging destiny for himself and all blind outcasts.He understood now: the cloth, the power, the loneliness—they were not chains, but keys.
A Revelation and a Warning
In the silent chamber, Lei's voice broke the gloom."We are not made powerless by what the world denies us," he spoke aloud, both to his companions and the empty air. "We are remade by what lies within."He removed the cloth for the first time in public, exposing sightless eyes that burned with invisible power.In that instant, the void blossomed—mana streams surged, air rippled with pure force.Then another vision swept over him, a warning. A figure cloaked in the void but warped, twisted by greed and hatred—another "god" rising, but not for balance, only destruction.The horizon shimmered with promise, but also threat. Lei felt destiny loop around him, heavy but necessary.
Moving Forward
Returning to camp, Lei wrapped the cloth again, his place as leader now undeniable. Yian offered a wordless nod—esteem beyond friendship, respect forged in fire.That night, stories spread among the expedition: of the Blind God, the First God's memory, and the temple's ancient truths.Lei sat alone in darkness, wrestling with the vision's warning. The threat beyond the horizon was growing, waiting, hungry for power.But he had resolved to meet it—not as a cursed outcast, but as the heir to eternity.The memory of the First God would be his guide. And he, too, would forge his own legend at the edge of the horizon.
As the night settled in with a hush over their makeshift camp, Lei found himself wandering beyond the reach of the firelight, guided by a compulsion he couldn't quite resist. The forest, alive with the sigh of ancient boughs and the muted scurrying of unseen creatures, seemed to resonate with his own unrest. He paused beside a strange tree, its trunk spiraled and its leaves faintly glowing, and pressed his palm against the rough bark. Instantly, a surge of mana jolted up his arm, and glimpses of another memory—one not his own, but belonging to the First God—flashed through his mind. He saw hands molding creation, shaping the weave of worlds, and a profound sorrow that came with such power: the loneliness of those who could see too much.Returning to camp, Lei's senses widened—he felt every heartbeat, every ripple in space around his companions.
For the first time, he realized he was no longer burdened by his blindness; rather, he wielded perception others could only dream of. He heard the soft weeping of a wounded warrior on the edge of the fire, the whispered hopes and fears carried from lips to shadow, and the subtle tremor of magic in the wind promising that fate was shifting.Before sleep claimed him, Lei looked skyward, the cloth over his eyes warm with the memory of the First God's vision. The stars themselves seemed nearer, pulsing as if in echo to his own heart. He let his resolve solidify: whatever the cost, he would follow this path to its end—across the horizon, through darkness, and perhaps even into legend. Whatever trials waited in the world, he would meet them as the Blind God, his destiny illuminated by the light within the void.