The sun had just risen in Selaphiel and the scene out the shores of Ho is bustling as usual.In contrast to the peaceful sound of lapping waves, the crowd is loud like always. Bargains and complaints are heard everywhere especially by the boats of the fishermen who had just arrived.However, the noise suddenly turned into silent murmurs when the neighs of a horse were heard from a distance.Approaching are blue-robed gentlemen in horseback which, in appearance, are unmistakably from a prominent clan.The young man leading is dressed formally, and one would immediately be able to tell he is of the Ho Clan, because of the crescent moon mark on his forehead.And he is not just any member at that, but is actually the young master of the main Ho family.The busy people continued their businesses in hushed tones, only pausing for a moment to bow and give respect whenever the wandering group would pass by their stalls.They are afraid not only because he is a direct descendant of the head of
Many, many years ago, from times when stories were still sung and these songs were persistently passed on from generations to generations, a collection of many myths and legends were celebrated by the people. They built temples and shrines for the gods. They built tombs for their leaders to be buried beside the gods they worshipped. And in harmony, humans and spirits served the higher beings. Selaphiel was a blessed land. Still is. The continent's people were even more blessed. Unlike other places, they were gifted the ability to bond with tamed spirits so that they can use some of nature's powers. But over time, because of greed and ambitions, they grew to forget their purpose, and they eventually strayed from traditions. There once lived a humble commoner family of sixteen. It was such a large family that they had to risk themselves into working for the more fortunate ones as spirit trappers. For them, they were lucky enough to have been born and lived in Selaphiel, a world wher
With a small smile, the god continued speaking, "I am called..." The boy was momentarily confused when a static sound surfaced out of nowhere and blocked every sound there was to hear in the night. Till he remembered a certain story circulating endlessly in all places he has been in. It seemed that the folktales about ordinary and unworthy humans not being able to hear the names of gods were true, so the boy, who had done grave sins in the past, did not hear it. "I am the god residing and guarding the gates and spaces between the worlds. Your deeds have been recognized, and I am here to propose an idea." Thinking it was a reward that could possibly help feed his family, the boy immediately accepted without waiting to hear the whole proposition. "I accept! It was this righteous god who has come to grace the earth of his presence. I have no right to disagree!" Although a bit crude and lacking the correct etiquette and manners, the uneducated boy did have a point. Right now, this
Amaryah gasped for air. She is someone who has always cared about her appearance; thus, even when she is almost out of breath, she still has the audacity to sit up to start looking for a mirror. She only paused after seeing how flowers scattered all over when she moved. Slowly, she steadied her breathing and tried to relax. While doing so, she looked around to find out where she was and was surprised at how easily she could move. She was ready to feel uncomfortable upon returning to her body, yet this was what greeted her. How unexpected. Despite being lifeless for months, no muscle is aching nor numbing. She raised her hands to watch her fingers and even looked down at her feet to feel her toes wiggle. "It looks like someone has taken meticulous care of me," she thought. She seems to be in a small cabin that is most likely built for her. The shelves on her left are filled with many bottles of potions and jars of herbs while the table a meter away from the foot of her bed has m
Amaryah hasn't gotten over what had happened yet. She was still promising to teach the witches a lesson in the future when she was abruptly interrupted by the subject of her thoughts. "Our little Aryah…" "Child, do you…" "...want to know…" "...what we've seen?" The witches are talented and skillful. One of their very special abilities, which they also taught Amaryah, was to influence other spirits, making them submit almost completely to them. When their dominance is used correctly, they can share their senses, thoughts, and emotions, and sometimes even control their actions. But it is not as if they could possess them. Possession was releasing your own spirit, leaving your body, and overpowering someone else's spirit to take over their body. What the dominance of the witches does is different. They will be able to hear their thoughts, able to see what they see, hear what they hear, taste what comes inside their mouth, and smell whatever they smell. They can feel their surroun
Like what the scrap of soul had said, her body is currently too weak to even manage a whole spirit. Much less be sensitive about her surroundings and the fluctuations of their emotions. She does not have any place in mind, but for now, she can only make do with the mountains and caves. Anywhere no ordinary human would reach or accidentally pass by and where energy is abundant and clean enough will be good. However, she didn't know that the witches already devised a different and better plan for her. "We have prepared you a place already." Her brows knitted upon hearing the words. "There is no need to thank us. Consider this one of the many great deeds we shall do to repay you." It disappeared after speaking and Amaryah breathed a sigh of relief. She finally felt a lot lighter, but upon digesting what the scrap of soul said, she was baffled. "What the hell are you talking..." She was absently moving before and could only feel the difficulty of maintaining her strength that she di
Lucian threw away the now bloodied handkerchief and took out another to bandage her wrist. Now that they are close up, she could feel his surging aura. She was really being careless. She had felt this energy the moment she opened the door of the cabin but did not bother with it. An aura this strong, in normal circumstances, she would have avoided it at all costs. Yet look at how persuasive the witches' hints are. They dragged her body towards this person, and she was pulled like a magnet. However, she really doesn't like this situation. This is dangerous, and she could be led astray. Lucian may be smart and a good leader, but she remembers that he lacked practical experiences. All because the people, most especially the direct descendants of the leading family of Mist Mountains seldom left to see what it was like outside. While Amaryah was brought up in the Sachiel Shores, he was born and raised in Mist Mountains. He grew up learning social etiquette, combat skills, and how to
Amaryah sobbed louder as Lucian beside her did his best to hide his panic. Thinking the girl was now crying and blaming himself for it, Yaron Lucian kneels beside Amaryah and checks her condition. The girl had red eyes, probably from pain and holding back some tears, but of course he didn't realize it was actually from suppressing laughter. She was gripping her shoulder with both of her hands; one hand was bandaged while the other, with sleeves rolling down, revealed more scratches and bruises She also seemed to have internal injuries from the way she was leaning down, body trembling a little. "May I?" Lucian asked, pointing at her hands. "You seem to be in a worse condition than I initially thought. Let me check your pulse." Acting reluctant, Amaryah let go of her shoulder and showed him her hand which Lucian carefully grasped. He held her right wrist, and using his middle and index fingers, he looked and felt for her pulse. Lucian's eyebrows raised a little upon listening to h