That morning, the air around Arka's hut felt different. It was no longer the usual cold morning dew, but rather a faint hum of energy in the air—almost imperceptible, yet enough to raise the hairs on Lira's neck. The decision to search for the ruins from her dream, even if it sounded insane, gave them purpose. A hope amid uncertainty.
"We'll need supplies," said Arka, gathering the worn cloth bag he usually used to carry crops. "These past few days, I've heard strange rumors from traders at the market. There's an area to the east, near the base of the Dead Volcano, that's become shrouded in a strange, thick fog. Locals say the land has gone barren, and even wild animals avoid the place."
Lira's eyes widened. "The Dead Volcano? Fog? That… that might be the place, Arka!" She recalled the image of the erupting volcano and desolate land from her vision. There was a connection, however small.
Arka nodded. "Could be. But it's far. And dangerous. We have to be very careful."
They began preparing. Arka packed his bag with dried bread, fruits from his garden, and a bottle of water. He also took an old machete he usually used for clearing brush. It wasn't a weapon, but better than nothing.
Lira, on the other hand, was anxious about her abilities. Her wings hadn't fully healed to fly again, and her fairy powers felt different on Earth. She could sense the earth's energy, but it didn't give her the ability to throw fireballs or build shields like she could in the Celestial Realm.
"I need to use my powers, Arka," Lira muttered, focusing on her hands. She tried to summon a small light, like she usually did to light her way in the Celestial Realm. But only a brief spark appeared, fading quickly.
Arka saw her determination. "Maybe you need more training. Here on Earth, everything is different. Maybe your energy needs to adapt."
"But how?" Lira said in frustration. "I don't have a teacher here."
Arka thought for a moment. "My grandmother used to tell stories about ancient trees in the forest that held incredible energy. She said if someone could touch their roots and listen to their whispers, they might gain strength or wisdom." Arka wasn't superstitious, but he knew Lira was a fairy—and the rules of the world might be different for her. "Maybe you could try that? Find the oldest, biggest tree, and try to connect with it."
Lira considered the suggestion. The idea of grounding herself to the Earth, not just absorbing it, made sense. Maybe that was the key to unlocking her powers again in this world. She nodded. "I'll try."
Before departing, Lira returned briefly to the pond where she had first sensed the dark energy. She stood there, closed her eyes, and tried to feel it again. This time, the dark energy felt stronger—like ripples in still water. She didn't just feel it; she also saw something in her mind—a faint image of the same red eyes Arka had seen the night before. Eyes filled with hatred and ambition.
Lira gasped and stepped back. The threat was real. This wasn't just some abstract energy. There was something behind it. Something alive.
Their journey east took nearly two days. They traveled on foot, Arka leading them along rarely-used forest paths. Though Lira was still adjusting to life without the ease of the Celestial Realm, she surprised Arka with her endurance. She never complained of exhaustion, and her small feet kept pace with his.
Along the way, Arka taught Lira about Earth's nature. He showed her the differences between trees, how to read animal tracks, and how to find clean water. Lira learned many new things—things she had never paid attention to in the Celestial Realm. She began to see a different kind of beauty on Earth—rougher, more real, yet full of life.
"Look at this, Lira," Arka said, pointing to a giant banyan tree whose roots towered like statues. "This is one of the oldest in this forest. My grandmother said trees like this hold many secrets."
Lira stepped closer, placing her hand on the tree's rough bark. She closed her eyes, trying to connect. She felt a strong flow of energy—but it was different from Celestial energy. It was slow, steady, and full of memory. She imagined her own roots reaching into the ground, merging with the roots of this tree.
Suddenly, a voice—ancient and unlike the dark whispers—flowed into her mind. It was calming, like the sound of a flowing river. She saw flashes of images: forests growing, seasons changing, and then… a small point of light falling from the sky, landing on this land. The vision was brief, but Lira was certain it was her when she fell.
And among the flashes, one image stood out: a symbol carved at the base of the tree, barely visible beneath moss. It was the exact same symbol she had seen in the ancient book in her dream. It wasn't from the Celestial Realm, nor from the human world. It was something far older—forgotten.
Lira opened her eyes, breath slightly ragged. "Arka! Do you see this?" She pointed at the symbol.
Arka brushed away the moss covering the carving. He frowned. "I've never seen a symbol like this. It looks ancient."
"This was in the book from my dream!" Lira exclaimed. "This tree… it's connected to that secret!"
Suddenly, the air around them grew colder. A thin mist began to creep from the east—not a normal fog, but something heavy, carrying a strange, stinging scent.
"That mist… it's coming from there," Arka said, pointing toward the Dead Volcano. "We're getting closer."
Lira felt the dark energy ripple within the fog. The power of the ancient tree had helped her see more clearly—but had also warned her of greater danger. The symbol, the whisper, and the approaching mist—all felt like threads slowly connecting, revealing a long-buried mystery.
They continued their journey. Lira now felt a little more confident in her growing ability to sense, and Arka was beginning to understand Lira's world more deeply. But beyond the thick fog shrouding the path to the Dead Volcano, a pair of red eyes—the same ones that had watched Arka's hut the night before—blinked slowly.
They knew the fairy and the human were coming.
And they were waiting.