After a longer-than-expected bit of organizing, Eden ended up sharing the wagon with the felyne—who sat up front, near the driver—and with the hooded human in the green cloak who still hadn't said his name.
When Eden finally settled into his seat, he nodded with a certain awkwardness, a brief greeting that felt more like an automatic gesture of courtesy than anything sincere. The man returned it in the same way—just a slight tilt of the head, wordless.
The wagon set off with a slow rattle, winding through the city's narrow streets. They crossed bustling plazas, passed fountains where children splashed happily, and skirted around vendor stalls whose worn voices shouted their last offers of the day. Eden watched it all with a mix of excitement and nostalgia. He remembered how much Mielchor's company had helped him in the past few days; without him, he might not have held up for so long. Despite the trouble the little creature usually dragged him into, loneliness was always easier to bear with that companion by his side.
He caught himself thinking he was seeing the city for the last time in a long while. And though the journey was only beginning, it was hard to believe that everything was finally about to reset itself.
Soon, the city was behind them, swallowed by the reddish glow of sunset. The sun sank into the horizon while the mighty gallop of the Krovaxid—huge crabs with legs coated in dark mineral—made the wagon tremble with every heavy stride.
Night fell without warning, bringing with it a thick silence that wrapped around the group. It was far too early to sleep, especially when traveling with strangers. After a couple hours of tedium, Eden couldn't stand it anymore and leaned his torso out the window.
The wind hit him full on, whipping his hair around with a force that made him chuckle under his breath. Even though the sun was gone, the darkness wasn't complete: the stars shone in uncountable numbers, like a river of silver flowing across the sky. And there, outlined in the dim horizon, stood the Eternal Tower—massive and serene, as if waiting for him.
Eden stayed like that for a long while, watching. His eyes moved from the road to the vegetation-covered surroundings, from animals fading into the distance to the star-filled sky… and from there to the imposing silhouette of the Tower.
From the other side of the wagon, a voice broke the silence:
"Have you ever wondered how to reach it?" said the man in the green cloak, eyes still fixed on the outside. His tone was calm, almost casual, yet his face bore a serene confidence.
The sudden sound startled Eden—he gave a small jump at the unexpected break in the quiet.
The man didn't rush. He let out a short laugh, then smiled softly. Every move he made seemed deliberate, as if following an inner rhythm no one else could hear.
"Apologies," he said gently, placing his open hand on his chest in a courteous gesture, his eyes on Eden without mockery or pressure. "I don't think I've introduced myself yet. I'm Alaric… Alaric Dusq'banne. A Navigator of Lands."
The calm with which he spoke his name contrasted sharply with Eden's discomfort, who felt as if this stranger knew exactly where he stood and where he was going.
"No… not really," Eden replied, unsure as he shifted in his seat.
Alaric smiled slowly.
"Many people have dreamed of touching it… or tried in stories. But no one truly reaches it. I assume you know the legend, don't you?" he asked, tilting his head while glancing behind the wagon.
"I think so… something, from when I was a kid," Eden answered, more relaxed now, though still doubtful—"It said that…" He paused, rummaging through memories. "Ah, right, that the Tower holds other lands inside it and decides who enters and who leaves. Was that it?"
"Yes, something like that." Alaric nodded, leaning back. "They say it has always been there. No one can reach it, but… everyone agrees it rises beyond the skies. The strange thing is that no one sees it in the same way."
"What do you mean, different?" Eden asked, leaning forward with curiosity.
"Because it has no fixed… or real form," Alaric said after a pause. "Each mind sees it in its own way." He stretched, letting a light silence settle again. "Anyway… I'm on my way hoping to reach it someday." He said it with a yawn, like he was talking about the weather.
"It's time you sleep, snow boy," the felyne cut in, hopping from the front to his side, dodging crates and bags with feline agility. "You're past your bedtime, kid."
Eden blinked and couldn't help but smile at the creature's insistence. There was a quiet firmness in his voice, almost a lullaby. Eden leaned back a bit more, letting the rocking of the wagon and the whisper of wind slipping through the window soothe him.
He closed his eyes for just a moment. When he opened them again, he saw Alaric in silence, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the stars. There was no rush in him, no orders—just a steady rhythm that seemed to rise from the wagon itself and the deep gallop of the Krovaxid.
Eden exhaled, worn out by days of accumulated fatigue, and allowed the night's calm to pull him into sleep.
When light began filtering through the cracks of the window, the warm tones of dawn already painted the horizon. Eden opened his eyes slowly. He had slept well, though all night long he had clung tightly to his belongings, afraid they might vanish while he slept.
Before moving, he checked that everything was still there. That's when he noticed the wagon wasn't moving. To his left, the pile of crates and bags was scattered, pushed away from its usual place.
He stood and stepped down cautiously. At first, he saw no one: they were on the last wagon in the line. The morning sun beat down with overwhelming heat, and Eden walked between the wagons looking for the others.
At first, he only found the Krovaxid. Some scraped the ground with their pincers, searching for stones or mineral-rich sand; others chewed the meat they'd been brought, or crushed tough fibers with a dry, coarse crunch.
Further ahead, he spotted the group gathered on the road, all around something.
Their voices reached him before the scene did:
"I caught him this morning eating from our provisions," said Alaric, firm and unadorned.
"Well, well, what a little thief!" mocked the felyne, raising a brow. "We should teach this Drakilith not to steal."
"By the Aethéric Princes!" the elf exclaimed, crossing her arms and raising her chin with haughty irritation. "You've no idea how hard it was to catch him."
Eeden approached, trying to see what creature they meant. When he finally saw it, his throat tightened.
There, small and helpless, was a little creature: a bipedal lizard with shining scales and eyes that seemed to plead for help the moment they recognized him.
Mielchor… Eden thought, and for a moment every doubt vanished, leaving only certainty in its place.
He started walking forward slowly, though every fiber of his body screamed for him to stop, to walk away, that he shouldn't get involved. But the sight of Mielchor, trapped and defenseless, lit something inside him he could no longer ignore.
"Hey…" Eden murmured, lifting his voice with a confidence he didn't truly feel. "Let him go!"
The felyne raised a brow, incredulous. Alaric turned toward him, a mix of surprise and disapproval on his face.
"What are you saying?" he growled, low.
Eden took a breath. He pushed the felyne aside and moved forward, feeling his heart pounding violently. His hand tightened around the handle of a knife—not to attack, but as a desperate reflex of protection.
"Let him go!" he repeated, this time with a thread of authority that even surprised him.
Silence fell—thick, suffocating. Everyone stared at him. The sun scorched his back, and the pressure of the moment threatened to crush him, but something inside him resolved itself: he wouldn't stay aside. If he wanted to protect his friend, he had to act, even if it meant leaving behind insecurity and cowardice.
Without another thought, he lunged forward and quickly cut the ropes binding Mielchor. The little creature squealed and leapt into his arms, pressing against him as if seeking refuge.
Eden placed him behind himself and stepped back, standing tall before the group. The elf and the felyne reacted with obvious indignation; Alaric, on the other hand, had a faint smile, almost approving; Gundar, as always, remained unreadable. But Vairon… Vairon was different. The man who usually seemed approachable now looked serious, and that seriousness made him even more imposing.
Vairon took a few steps forward. The weight of his presence alone silenced the others.
"Do you know the Drakilith?" he asked, voice deep, grave, carrying a natural authority that could intimidate anyone.
Eden shuddered. The determination that had pushed him this far was starting to falter, but fear wouldn't be enough to make him retreat. He clenched his jaw, steadied his legs, and stood as firmly as he could.
"Yes! He's my companion!" he shouted, fists clenched and trembling. His voice sounded defiant, though a burning fear coursed through his chest.
Vairon stepped closer, his shadow covering Eden and Mielchor. Every muscle in him looked ready to strike, and his piercing gaze was enough to freeze anyone's blood. Eden felt fear tightening around him: his legs shook, his breathing quickened, and he finally closed his eyes, bracing for a blow he knew he couldn't dodge.
But the blow never came. He only felt the rush of wind on his face… and then a firm, unexpectedly gentle hand ruffling his hair from above. Opening his eyes felt like waking from a nightmare: Vairon was bent over him, brushing a hand over his head, and there was no trace of aggression in his expression.
"I wasn't wrong to invite you to travel with us," he said, calm, his voice carrying a quiet grace. A faint smile curved his lips as he gave Eden a couple of pats on the back. "I see you have courage."
Eden blinked, stunned, while Mielchor pressed closer to his leg. The tension that had consumed him seconds before slowly faded, replaced by a warm sort of relief.
Vairon turned to Gundar, giving him a triumphant look accompanied by a mocking smile.
A little further ahead, Cecilia and Gundar were arranging the front wagon, unloading utensils and sorting provisions. The air smelled of dry herbs and sun-warmed leather. Alaric leaned against a trunk, calmly polishing his sword, while Vairon, still wearing that victorious smile, seemed quietly pleased.
Eeden sat down beside Mielchor, still catching his breath, when a feline shadow planted itself in front of him.
"Hey, kid," said the felyne, carrying several jars in his arms, tail swaying behind him. "If you plan to stay with us, you better be useful. The fire won't light itself."
He pointed a sharp claw at him.
To Eden's surprise, the felyne no longer moved like a simple four-legged animal: he walked upright with an unsettling naturalness, almost like a human.
"Go on, get some dry wood from the forest. And make it plenty, yeah? I'm hungry."
Eden blinked, unsure. He didn't know if this was an order, a joke, or just another test. He glanced at Mielchor, who tilted his head and let out a soft chirp, as if encouraging him.
"All right," Eden murmured, standing up and heading into the forest.
He'd never explored it before, and the fear of getting lost tightened in his chest. To avoid forgetting the way back, he marked a few trunks as he went. He gathered dry branches while weaving through the terrain, hopping over fallen logs, climbing a tree now and then to get a better view. Though he had no special training or enchantments, his athletic body and good physical condition gave him ease.
Even so, little by little he wandered farther than intended. The silence of the forest wrapped around him, broken only by faint bird calls and the crackle of twigs underfoot. Then, after pushing aside a pile of fallen branches and passing through a thick shrub, he froze:
at the edge of a lake, a Braskyl rested in silence.
Behind him, Mielchor followed in short hops, stumbling over roots and logs, running as fast as his small legs allowed to keep up. Failing to stop in time, he crashed straight into Eden just as he stood still to observe the Braskyl.
"Shhh, shhh!" Eden whispered, raising both hands and waving one to tell him to hush.
Mielchor stared at him wide-eyed, tail flicking anxiously. With his head tilted, he seemed to ask what they were going to do now.
"Little rat… we need to replace the food you gobbled up while you were hiding," Eden muttered, raising a brow in an attempt to look serious, though the mischievous spark in his eyes betrayed him.
The little creature snorted, then smacked his open palm with a fist, as if he'd understood the mission perfectly.