Three days had passed since their escape from the collapsing temple. Three days of exhausting hikes through the Umbral Forest, following the weak but persistent signal that the transformed compass detected. The green energy pillar had disappeared from the sky on the second day, a sign that the temple had completed its initial relocation phase, fully immersing itself in the fabric of reality.
Richard and Elyndra advanced in silence along a barely visible path among the ancient trees. The vegetation had subtly changed during their journey; the trees seemed older, their trunks twisted into impossible shapes that suggested the passage of millennia compressed into decades. Luminescent moss covered the stones, pulsing weakly with a rhythm that reminded Richard of the beats of the Eternal Calendar.
"We're close," whispered Elyndra, stopping to examine a rock formation covered with symbols that seemed to change when not directly looked at. "The temple has chosen a place of power to anchor itself."
Richard observed the compass. The needle pulsed increasingly faster, and the organic elements that had fused with the metal glowed with growing intensity.
"What does 'place of power' mean?" he asked as they resumed walking.
"A nexus where temporal currents and telluric lines naturally intersect," explained Elyndra. "They are rare in your world, but essential for maintaining balance between realities."
Richard assimilated this information as they advanced through increasingly strange terrain. The ground beneath their feet alternated between firm earth and patches where the consistency became almost liquid before solidifying again. In certain places, small temporal bubbles caused plants to grow, bloom, and wither in a matter of seconds, only to restart the cycle immediately afterward.
"The veil between worlds is thinner here," commented Elyndra, pointing toward a clearing where light refracted unnaturally, creating floating prisms in the air. "I can feel my home... almost like a distant echo."
Richard noticed the nostalgia in her voice. It was one of the few moments when Elyndra revealed vulnerability.
"What is it like?" he asked softly. "Your world."
Elyndra remained silent for a moment, as if searching for the right words.
"Imagine a place where time and space are not as rigidly defined as here," she finally began. "Where cities can reconfigure themselves according to the needs of their inhabitants, where forests sing with voices of their own, where light has flavor and sounds have color." She paused, her silver eyes lost in memories. "It's beautiful, but also fragile, especially since the formation of the Veil."
Before Richard could ask more, the compass in his hand emitted an intense flash. They had arrived at a perfect circle of megalithic stones, similar to an ancient cromlech but of impossible proportions: each monolith measured at least fifteen meters in height and was covered with intricate engravings that seemed to move of their own volition.
"The temple's new anchor," confirmed Elyndra, her voice tinged with reverence. "It has merged with a pre-existing sacred site."
In the exact center of the circle, where there should have been an altar or perhaps a central dolmen, there was instead an impossible absence: a perfectly circular space where the air itself seemed to bend inward, as if reality were folding upon itself.
"What is that?" asked Richard, feeling a strange attraction toward the phenomenon.
"A dimensional threshold," responded Elyndra. "The new entrance to the temple."
Richard took a step toward the center, but Elyndra stopped him with a gesture.
"Wait. The temple has been disturbed. Its defenses will be on maximum alert." She pointed toward the monoliths. "We need to activate the circle correctly or the threshold could send us anywhere... or nowhere."
They studied the surrounding monoliths. Each displayed variations of the same basic symbols: spirals, wavy lines, concentric circles, and geometric shapes that Richard recognized from the walls of the original temple.
"They're temporal markers," he observed. "Each represents a distinct flow of time."
Elyndra nodded, impressed.
"Your understanding has evolved. Yes, each monolith is an anchor for a specific temporal current. We need to activate them in the correct sequence to tune the threshold with the temple's interior."
Richard took out the transformed compass and held it in front of each monolith. The needle responded differently to each one: accelerating, slowing down, or even reversing its direction momentarily.
"It's detecting the temporal signatures," he observed. "It could help us determine the sequence."
They worked methodically, Richard using the compass to identify the patterns while Elyndra interpreted the engraved symbols. Gradually, a sequence emerged: a pattern that reflected the cycles of destruction and renewal that Richard had experienced in the Eternal Calendar.
"I think I have it," he said finally. "We must activate them following the sequence of Earth's major extinctions and rebirths. Each monolith represents an evolutionary turning point."
With renewed determination, they approached the first monolith in the sequence. Richard placed his hand on the ancient stone and concentrated, remembering the techniques he had learned during his journey across the hexagonal board. He felt the monolith's energy resonate with something inside him, as if recognizing an elemental affinity.
"It's working," murmured Elyndra when the first monolith began to glow with an inner bluish light. "Your partial connection with the fragment is allowing the activation."
One by one, they activated the monoliths following the deduced sequence. With each activation, the threshold in the center of the circle stabilized, its distortion changing from a chaotic vortex to an ordered spiral. The air around vibrated with increasing energy, and small luminous particles began to orbit the perimeter of the circle.
When they activated the last monolith, a dramatic change occurred: the symbols engraved on each stone illuminated simultaneously, creating lines of light that connected with each other forming a complex geometric network. The central threshold expanded, revealing a vertical tunnel of greenish light that descended into the depths.
"The entrance is open," said Elyndra, observing the portal with a mixture of relief and apprehension. "But I feel that something has changed. The temple has... evolved."
Richard could feel it too. The energy emanating from the portal was different from what they had experienced at the original entrance. More concentrated, more refined, but also more demanding.
"Is it safe to enter?" he asked, remembering the collapse of the previous structure.
Elyndra considered the question seriously.
"The temple has marked us as legitimate aspirants," she finally responded. "But it has been attacked and disturbed. Its very nature might have changed in response." She looked directly at Richard. "The final test will be different from what you experienced before. More personal. Deeper."
Richard nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.
"Could the Organization find us again?"
"Eventually, yes. But the temple has chosen this place precisely because of its hidden nature. We have time, but not unlimited."
With one last exchange of glances, they approached the threshold. The greenish light enveloped them, and Richard felt the familiar sensation of displacement as the portal absorbed them, taking them toward the depths of the reconfigured temple.
The descent through the luminous tunnel was different from any previous experience. Instead of the chaotic turbulence of the water tunnel or the spatial disorientation of the hexagonal chamber, this passage seemed actively aware of their presence. The light pulsed in response to their thoughts, narrowing or expanding according to their emotional states.
"The temple is evaluating us as we descend," observed Elyndra. "This is part of the test."
Richard tried to keep his mind clear and focused, but images of his recent experiences kept arising: Lancaster revealing himself as a member of the Organization, the contradictory visions about the origin of the fragments, the collapse of the original temple.
Each thought subtly altered the light around them: darkening with doubts, brightening with determination, fragmenting with confusion.
"Don't try to suppress your thoughts," advised Elyndra, noticing his internal struggle. "The temple doesn't seek perfection, but authenticity."
After what seemed like hours but could have been minutes, the luminous tunnel led into a space that completely defied Richard's expectations.
There were no monumental chambers or elaborate test boards. Instead, they found themselves in what appeared to be a clearing in a primordial forest. Colossal trees rose toward an impossibly distant sky. The ground was covered with moss and small flowers that glowed with their own light. A crystalline stream meandered between the knotty roots, its water emitting a faint bluish glow.
"Is this... the temple?" asked Richard, disconcerted.
"It's its essence," responded Elyndra, observing the surroundings with amazement. "It has abandoned its formal structure and returned to its most fundamental form."
In the exact center of the clearing, where the stream formed a small circular pond, a column of green light rose from the water. Within it, floating as it had done in the original chamber, was the earth-time fragment.
"There it is," murmured Richard, feeling an immediate connection with the object.
"But the path is not clear," pointed out Elyndra.
She was right. Between them and the central pond, the forest seemed to densify, the trees growing closer together, their roots intertwining in increasingly complex patterns. And there was something else: shadowy figures moved between the trunks, too diffuse to clearly identify, but undeniably present.
"Guardians," explained Elyndra in a low voice. "Or more precisely, manifestations of the tests we must overcome."
She had barely finished speaking when the first figure emerged into view. Richard held his breath: it was himself, but different. This other Richard seemed younger, dressed in university clothes, his face marked by an expression of bewilderment and fear.
"Your past," murmured Elyndra. "The temple is manifesting aspects of yourself that you must confront."
The figure spoke, its voice a strange echo of Richard's own:
"Why did you abandon everything for this quest? Your career, your friends, your normal life... why risk it all for something you barely understand?"
Richard felt the weight of that question, which he had avoided confronting directly since this journey began.
"I didn't abandon it," he finally responded. "I expanded it. What I was hasn't disappeared, it has transformed, as everything in nature transforms."
The figure stared at him for a moment, as if evaluating his response, before dissolving into particles of light that were absorbed by the forest floor.
"You have passed the first test," said Elyndra. "The reconciliation with your past."
They advanced cautiously. As they approached the center, the trees seemed to subtly move aside, but new figures emerged to block their path.
This time it wasn't one but two figures that appeared: Lancaster on one side, Elyndra on the other, both speaking simultaneously, their voices overlapping in a confused cacophony of partial truths and contradictions.
Lancaster's manifestation spoke of the dangers of the fragments, of how the Sylvan had manipulated human civilizations for millennia, of how the Veil was a necessary protective measure.
Elyndra's manifestation told a different story: about the ancient harmony between worlds, the collaboration between species, and how the knowledge of the fragments had been freely shared until human ambition led to catastrophic abuses.
"The test of discerning truth," murmured the real Elyndra, taking a step back. "This one you must face alone."
Richard observed the two manifestations, each presenting their version of history with absolute conviction. He remembered the fragmentary visions he had experienced in the Eternal Calendar, the memories of the earth itself that he had absorbed during his journey across the board.
"Both are right... and both are wrong," he finally said. "History is never as simple as a single narrative. The complete truth encompasses all perspectives, even contradictory ones."
He extended his hands toward both figures.
"I reject neither of your truths, but I also don't accept that they are complete. Wisdom lies in recognizing complexity, not in reducing it to a single story."
The manifestations exchanged a glance before dissolving, just like the first figure. But this time, the particles of light were not absorbed by the ground but floated toward Richard, entering him and causing a brief but intense wave of alien memories: fragments of the true history that both sides had hidden or distorted.
When the sensation passed, Richard felt different. More anchored but also more fluid, as if he had integrated a new dimension of understanding into his being.
"The second test has also been passed," observed Elyndra, resuming her position at his side. "But I suspect the final test will be the most difficult."
They continued advancing toward the central pond. The forest around them changed subtly with each step: the trees seemed older, their trunks merging with rock formations that emerged from the ground as if the line between plant and mineral had blurred.
When they reached the edge of the pond, the crystalline water revealed its true nature: it wasn't ordinary water but liquid time, fluid and brilliant, with scenes from multiple eras and places reflecting on its surface.
And there, floating above this sea of moments, was the fragment.
It was beautiful in a way that transcended conventional aesthetics: a triangular prism of undefinable material that seemed simultaneously solid as the hardest stone and fluid as the purest water. Inside it, veins of greenish energy pulsed with a rhythm that reminded Richard of the beats of a primitive heart.
"The Core of the Eternal," revered Elyndra. "The unified essence of earth and time."
Richard took a step toward the edge of the pond, feeling an irresistible attraction toward the fragment. But before he could get closer, a final figure emerged from the temporal water: a luminous, androgynous and timeless silhouette, radiating an ancient and powerful presence.
"The Guardian of the Fragment," whispered Elyndra, instinctively taking a step back.
The figure spoke, its voice resonating not in the air but directly in Richard's mind:
"Seeker, you have passed the tests of reconciliation and discernment. But the final test determines not your knowledge or your worth, but your purpose. Why do you seek the power of the Core of the Eternal?"
Richard felt that this question penetrated to the deepest part of his being, seeking not the formulated answer but the fundamental truth of his motivation.
He breathed deeply, feeling the weight of everything he had experienced since the beginning of his journey.
"I seek to understand," he finally responded. "Not to control time or earth, but to restore the balance between them. To heal the fracture between worlds that should never have been separated."
The Guardian observed him with eyes that seemed to contain galaxies.
"And if I told you that such restoration could bring more destruction than the current state? Would you still seek this power?"
Richard felt the trap in the question, but also its core of genuine truth.
"I would seek to understand better before acting," he responded carefully. "Knowledge without wisdom is as dangerous as ignorance with power. I don't intend to impose my will on the natural order, but to learn to flow with it, like water finding its way between stones without breaking them."
The Guardian remained motionless for a long moment, evaluating him. Richard maintained his gaze, allowing the entity to probe his deepest intentions, his fears, his hopes.
"You have answered with wisdom," the Guardian finally said. "But the final test requires more than words."
With a fluid gesture, the Guardian extended its hand toward the pond of liquid time. The surface rippled and divided into two distinct currents that began to flow in a spiral around the fragment.
"You must cross the Twin Currents," explained the Guardian. "One carries all the positive possibilities of your quest; the other, all the potential disasters. Both are equally real, equally possible. By crossing them, you will experience both realities simultaneously."
Richard observed the spiral currents with apprehension.
"What if I cannot bear it?" he asked.
"Then the fragment is not for you," the Guardian simply responded. "No one can carry the knowledge of time and earth without fully accepting both its creative and destructive potential."
Elyndra took a step forward.
"Richard, this test is extremely dangerous," she warned in a low voice. "Many aspirants have lost their sanity attempting it. The Twin Currents show possible futures with such vividness that they can fragment the mind."
Richard evaluated the situation. They had come so far, overcome so many tests and challenges. The fragment floated there, just a few meters away. And yet, this final barrier seemed the most intimidating of all.
"Is there any way to prepare?" he asked Elyndra.
She shook her head.
"The only thing that can help you is your own internal stability. Your ability to stay centered while experiencing contradictory realities."
Richard closed his eyes for a moment, centering on his breathing as he had learned to do during his training with Elyndra. He felt the currents of time flowing around him, the solidity of the earth beneath his feet. They were complementary energies, not opposed. Like yin and yang, each containing a seed of the other.
"I'm ready," he finally said, opening his eyes.
The Guardian nodded slightly.
"Enter when you wish. The pond awaits you."
With one last look at Elyndra, who offered him a supportive gesture, Richard took a step forward and then another, entering the pond of liquid time.
The sensation was indescribable. Unlike conventional water, the liquid time didn't wet; it flowed through him as if he were made of the same substance. As he advanced toward the center where the fragment floated between the spiral currents, he felt his perception beginning to divide.
First there were flashes: fleeting visions of restored worlds where humans and Sylvan collaborated again, sharing knowledge and growing together in harmony. Simultaneously, glimpses of catastrophes where the Veil collapsed violently, unleashing uncontrollable energies that devastated both realities.
As he approached the point where the Twin Currents met, the visions intensified. They were no longer simple images but complete experiences: he could feel, smell, touch these potential futures.
In one future, he held the nine reunited fragments, using their power to heal ancient wounds between worlds. In another, those same fragments tore the fabric of reality, creating interdimensional abysses that not even the Sylvan could close.
His mind stretched to the limit trying to contain these contradictory realities. The pain was intense, as if his consciousness were being split in two. But amid this impossible bifurcation, Richard found a point of clarity: the understanding that both possibilities were equally real because they depended not on the power of the fragments but on the decisions of those who carried them.
The fragments, he understood in that moment of crystalline lucidity, were not inherently beneficial or malignant. They were pure potential, capable of manifesting both the most sublime creation and the most absolute destruction.
With this understanding firmly anchored in his being, Richard took the final step, crossing the point where the Twin Currents converged directly under the floating fragment.
An explosion of green light flooded the entire chamber. The dual visions intensified until becoming almost unbearable, and for a moment, Richard feared his mind would break under the pressure.
But then, when it seemed he could bear no more, something extraordinary happened: the contradictory currents began to harmonize within him. Not merging into a single reality, but coexisting as complementary possibilities, reflecting the dual nature of the fragment itself.
Richard extended his hand toward the Core of the Eternal, which now pulsed intensely, as if responding to his presence. His fingers were centimeters away from the triangular prism, the heat of its energy tingling on his skin.
The Guardian, who had observed the entire process with cosmic impassivity, spoke one last time:
"You have demonstrated true understanding. The final test has been passed. But remember, seeker: with each fragment you obtain, your responsibility grows exponentially. The Core of the Eternal will not only grant you power over earth and time; it will also bind you to them in ways you cannot yet comprehend."
Richard nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the warning. Around him, the Twin Currents calmed, transforming into concentric circles that pulsed rhythmically around the fragment.
"I understand," he responded. "And I accept that responsibility."
With those words, he extended his hand to take the fragment, feeling the culmination of his long journey through the Temple of the Deep Roots finally within reach of his fingers.