The night was quiet, almost unnaturally so. A silver light spilled through the dense canopy, washing over Caelum as he sat cross-legged on the thick branch of an ancient tree. His eyes, sharp and restless, lingered on the pale sphere above.
The moon seemed alive tonight. It wasn't just a distant star hanging in the void—it pulsed, breathed, and gazed back at him.
His body relaxed, his mind reaching outward. At first, it was like dipping his fingers into a vast ocean. He managed to touch a single thread—thin, silvery, fragile. His heart raced as he pulled it toward himself.
The strand entered him like a wisp of cold flame. His body shivered, then melted into serenity. For a fleeting second, he felt as though he were part of something immeasurable. Eternal.
Then the serenity shattered.
His veins erupted in fire. Caelum's eyes snapped open, his body convulsing as blood burst from his lips. The metallic tang filled his mouth, and thick droplets splattered against the bark beneath him.
"Ghh—!" He clutched his chest, forcing the connection shut, his breathing ragged.
The moonlight seemed to mock him, indifferent to his suffering.
"…What was that?" he rasped, wiping blood from his lips.
The voice of the Guide hummed within him, calm as always.
"You were reckless. You can cultivate the forest easily because it accepts you—you share familiarity with nature, with life itself. But the moon…" The Guide's tone grew heavier. "The moon is vast. It is bound by myriad laws. You cannot rush it. Familiarize yourself first, then attempt again. Only then will its embrace not destroy you."
Caelum coughed once more, spitting crimson onto the branch. His chest ached, but his eyes gleamed with curiosity.
"So I wasn't wrong… it can be cultivated."
"Yes," the Guide admitted. "But you are a child grasping at the mantle of eternity. That wisp you drew was nothing compared to the ocean it holds. The difference between forest mana and lunar essence is the difference between a candle and a star."
A smirk twitched at Caelum's lips despite his pain. "Then I just have to reach that star one day."
He leaned back, letting the moonlight bathe him. The cool glow seeped into his battered frame, as though healing him despite its rejection.
After a long silence, his thoughts returned to something the Guide had said.
"You mentioned laws… what exactly are they?"
The Guide chuckled softly, the sound carrying the weight of untold ages.
"Laws are truths carved into existence. They are older than skills, deeper than gifts. A skill can be learned, copied, broken. But a Law? It cannot be faked. To grasp a Law is to touch the foundation of the world."
"Foundations…" Caelum muttered, his curiosity sharpening.
"Every part of existence carries them. The trees, the rivers, the mountains, the stars above, even the silence between heartbeats. The forest you've been cultivating from—it has one of the oldest, most primal Laws. The Law of Nature: Kill, or be killed. It is not spoken, it is lived. Every predator, every prey knows it. And those who truly embody it… find their paths smoother."
Caelum's brows furrowed, his gaze drifting across the forest.
"So everything around me… all of this has Laws?"
"All of it," the Guide confirmed. "The sun, the moon, the stars, the sand beneath your feet. You have merely been scratching the surface."
The words lingered in his mind like embers. Slowly, an idea began to form. His lips curled into a half-smile.
"…Then if the trees hold Laws… does that mean I can speak to them?"
The Guide's voice was amused. "You already can. You simply don't believe it yet."
Caelum chuckled, shaking his head. "Talk to trees… now that sounds insane."
Still, his eyes glimmered with challenge. He glanced at the thick branches above him and whispered softly in his mind: Cover me. Hide me.
Nothing happened. The leaves rustled lazily with the wind, indifferent to his command.
"Tch." He frowned.
The Guide sighed.
"You doubt them. The forest is sensitive to emotions—more than mana, it listens to your will. Cast aside doubt, and speak with certainty."
Caelum inhaled deeply, steadying his racing heart. He forced his doubts away, his mind sharpening to a single thought: You will hide me.
The forest stirred.
The branches shifted, creaking softly as if alive. Leaves unfurled and layered over him, weaving into a cocoon. Bark twisted, folding inward. In moments, Caelum was swallowed by the tree itself—hidden from sight, his presence erased.
His breath caught.
"…It worked."
From within the wooden embrace, not even a strand of moonlight touched him. He felt the heartbeat of the tree pulse faintly around him, like a living creature acknowledging his presence.
"Impressive," the Guide said. "Now you understand. The forest is not dead. It is a chorus of life. If you trust it, it will trust you."
A grin spread across Caelum's face. "Then this is just the beginning."
Silence lingered for a moment as he absorbed the sensation of being cradled by nature itself. Then curiosity struck again, burning as bright as his ambition.
"Guide… if everything is connected—the trees, the rivers, the moon—then doesn't that mean mastering one could open the way to the other?"
"…You're beginning to understand," the Guide replied. "Yes. Paths converge. The mana of the forest could lead you to the river, the river to the sea, the sea to the moon, and so on. Each door you open reveals another. But if you jump recklessly between them… you will drown before you can walk."
Caelum smirked, determination flashing in his eyes. "Then I'll master the forest first. And when I'm ready, I'll make the moon acknowledge me."
The Guide grew quiet.
For the first time that night, a chill whispered through the air. Caelum felt it prickle against his skin. His smile faltered. Slowly, his gaze drifted upward to the silver light above.
The moon stared back, silent and vast.
For a fleeting second, he could have sworn something was staring through it. Watching him.
He shivered, though not from fear. His lips curled into a small, playful grin.
"Makes sense. Better to perfect what I have before leaping too far ahead."
A small smile crept onto his face. "Actually… I've been wondering. What do you look like?"
The Guide was caught off guard. "Wh—what do you mean?"
Caelum chuckled. "Forget it. I can already picture it—an old man, stern face, long beard, stiff robes. The classic look."
"…Actually," the Guide said slowly, "you're older than me."
"…"
"…"
"What do you mean?!" Caelum blurted, his voice pitching higher than intended.
"Well," the Guide replied, oddly amused, "compared to other Guides, I'm a newborn. I would have grown… but I was sealed until the awakening of the last heir."
Caelum scratched his cheek, a little embarrassed. "…Oh. Yeah. My bad."