Ryuxian exhaled as he stared at the endless steps before him. The sheer number made him wonder if he truly wanted to go through with this, but curiosity pushed him forward. His companion, the man who had lost his wife, stepped ahead, already used to such paths.
As they ascended, the air grew lighter, filled with an ancient energy that felt like it had been watching over the world for millennia. The temple at the peak of the Holy Mountain was said to be the resting place of one of the emperor's pets—now a sage, revered by those seeking enlightenment.
The higher they climbed, the more the world seemed to change. The scent of sacred herbs filled the air, and a strange hum resonated in the distance, as if the mountain itself was breathing. Ryuxian felt his body reacting—his blood was warming, his senses sharpening. The red threads surrounding him shifted, intertwining as if whispering secrets only he could understand.
"Hey, you're quiet," his companion said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "This place is getting to you?"
Ryuxian smirked. "Maybe. Or maybe this mountain is trying to talk to me."
The man chuckled. "You sound just like those sages."
As they reached a clearing, Ryuxian's eyes caught something—a massive stone monument carved with symbols he had never seen before. Some of them looked familiar, almost like the sigils that had appeared on his own body before.
A group of monks was gathered near the monument, each of them bowing in deep reverence. One of them, an old man with a long white beard, turned his head towards Ryuxian. His piercing gaze felt as if it could see through his very soul.
"You," the monk spoke, his voice calm yet commanding. "The threads around you… they do not belong here."
Ryuxian tilted his head. "Is that a problem?"
The monks exchanged glances before another one spoke. "Fate has brought you here. The sage will decide."
"The sage?" Ryuxian raised an eyebrow.
"Yes," the elder monk said. "The one who has lived through the emperor's era. If you seek answers, you must meet him."
Ryuxian exchanged a glance with his companion. Then, with a deep breath, he stepped forward.
As they passed the monument and followed the monks, the sacred air thickened, pressing against his body like an unseen force. Something powerful lay ahead.
And Ryuxian would soon come face to face with it.
Ryuxian's gaze locked onto the isolated tower, standing apart from the sacred grounds, hidden as if it did not wish to be found. The aura around it was different—silent, untouched, waiting. Without hesitation, he stepped inside.
The moment he crossed the threshold, he felt it—a shift, as if the very air had recognized his presence. No one was inside. Dust floated in the golden light seeping through the arched windows. From this vantage point, he could see half of the Holy Mountain, its divine air wrapping the land like an eternal embrace.
Then, something stirred.
A surge of pure green energy whispered through the air, so potent that Ryuxian felt it crawl over his skin. His fingers twitched. His instincts urged him forward, outside the tower, drawn by something unseen.
Suddenly, the energy reacted.
From around his neck, his Stardust Gem pulsed, as if answering a call only it could hear. A stream of light—green with flecks of golden dust—poured out, dancing through the sky like a living thing. Ryuxian watched as it soared, drawn to the edge of the cliff.
And then, he saw him.
A figure stood there, silhouetted against the vast horizon. When the figure turned, the first thing Ryuxian noticed was its eyes—deep green, like ancient gemstones polished by time, gleaming with a knowing gaze that sent a ripple through his entire being.
He was tall, with a stealthy presence, his posture exuding quiet majesty. His sharp features were framed by long, silver-grey hair, strands shifting slightly in the wind. Draped over his broad shoulders was a grey robe adorned with intricate black embroidery, the patterns swirling like the remnants of an ancient tale woven into the fabric. He looked no older than twenty-five, yet his presence carried something far beyond age—something timeless.
The golden-green dust from the Stardust Gem reached towards him, drawn as if reuniting with something long lost. Ryuxian instinctively raised his hand to catch a fragment of the dust, and the moment it touched his palm—
It took form.
A moth.
No—a dream sculpted in starlight. Its wings shimmered with the colors of a forgotten cosmos, pulsing like memory and prophecy combined.
Ryuxian's breath caught in his throat as he watched it flutter between him and the stranger, carrying an unspoken message between them.