The water tunnel narrowed and twisted sharply. Richard felt his stomach churn as the boat accelerated, propelled by invisible currents. The light surrounding them constantly changed: sometimes bright as midday, then dim as dusk, and at times, completely absent. In those intervals of darkness, Richard could swear he saw shapes moving in the liquid walls—shadows and silhouettes that appeared and disappeared too quickly to identify.
"Elyndra!" he called out, but his voice sounded strange, as if it reached his own ears with delay. "What's happening?"
She was sitting at the bow, her profile outlined against the changing light. When she turned her head to respond, Richard experienced a disconcerting sensation: her movement seemed fragmented, as if she jumped between postures rather than moving fluidly.
"We're crossing through layers of time," she explained, her voice reaching Richard as a distant echo despite being less than two meters away. "It's not just a tunnel in space, but in the temporal structure itself."
Richard tried to grasp the compass, but his fingers seemed to pass through the object momentarily before he could hold it. When he finally managed to stabilize it in his palm, he saw that the needle was spinning so fast it was barely a blur.
A violent jerk shook the boat, and the water in the tunnel began to change color, turning from crystalline blue to deep green, then to golden amber. The speed increased even more, until the edges of the tunnel became blurry.
"Hold on!" shouted Elyndra. "We're about to exit!"
There was a blinding flash, a moment of absolute vertigo, and then... silence.
Richard blinked, trying to recover his vision. They were no longer in the water tunnel. The boat now floated in what appeared to be a vast underground lake, so still that its surface reflected the cavern ceiling like a perfect mirror. A pale green light emanated from crystals embedded in the rock, bathing everything in a ghostly glow.
"Where are we?" he whispered, his voice amplified by the stone walls.
Elyndra observed their surroundings cautiously.
"In the antechamber of the temple," she responded quietly. "The Labyrinth of Time."
Richard scrutinized the enormous cavern. Despite the light from the crystals, much of the space was lost in shadows. In the distance, he could make out what appeared to be tunnel entrances—dozens of them, scattered around the perimeter of the cavern.
"Labyrinth?" he asked.
"The Temple of the Deep Roots is not a simple building," explained Elyndra as the boat silently glided toward the nearest shore. "It's a complex of chambers and corridors where time flows differently in each section. This lake is just the entrance."
As they approached the shore, Richard could better see the details. The stone of the cavern was not ordinary; it had brilliant veins that pulsed subtly, as if they were alive. The ground near the water was covered by silver moss that emitted a faint glow whenever they stepped on it.
They secured the boat and began to explore the shore. Before them opened three distinct tunnels, each marked with symbols engraved in the rock.
"They're temporal indicators," said Elyndra, examining the symbols. "This one," she pointed to the left tunnel, "leads to a place where time flows slower. This other one," she indicated the center one, "maintains stable time. And this one," she pointed to the right, "accelerates the temporal flow."
Richard took out the compass. To his surprise, it now worked perfectly, its needle pointing firmly toward the central tunnel.
"It seems we should go this way," he said, showing the compass to Elyndra.
She frowned.
"It's too simple. Temples never offer a direct path."
She had barely finished speaking when a sound reverberated throughout the cavern: a deep rumble, as if enormous ancient gears were beginning to move. The ground vibrated beneath their feet, and the crystals in the walls flickered.
"What is that?" asked Richard, tensing up.
"The temple has detected our presence," responded Elyndra, her expression grave. "It's changing its configuration."
Before their eyes, the tunnel entrances began to move, sliding along the cavern walls as if solid rock were fluid. Some tunnels disappeared completely, while new ones formed. In a matter of seconds, the mental map that Richard had begun to form became obsolete.
"The labyrinth is alive," murmured Elyndra. "It reconfigures constantly, and each reconfiguration alters the temporal flows."
Richard looked at the compass again. The needle now oscillated between several symbols, as if it were indecisive.
"How do we find the right path?"
Elyndra pointed toward the center of the lake.
"Look."
At the exact point where they had emerged from the water tunnel, a pillar of green light rose from the water, projecting to the ceiling of the cavern. Within that beam of light, something floated: a small object that shone with its own intensity.
"The fragment," Richard held his breath. "It's there, in plain sight."
"But directly unreachable," added Elyndra. "The labyrinth is the test. We must find the correct path through the temporal distortions to be able to access the center of the lake again."
Richard studied the numerous tunnels that now opened before them. The task seemed impossible.
"Where do we start?"
Elyndra closed her eyes for a moment, as if tuning into something invisible.
"Each fragment has its own nature," she said at last. "This one is related to earth and time. The key must be in understanding how they intertwine."
Richard reflected on this. Earth and time... permanence and change. Seemingly opposite concepts, but complementary.
"The compass," he said suddenly. "It doesn't show us a direct path because such a thing doesn't exist here. It shows us temporal states, not directions."
Elyndra looked at him with interest as he continued developing his theory.
"If this is the Temple of the Deep Roots, then it must function like... like a tree." Richard gestured as the ideas formed. "Roots branch out, divide, but all are part of the same system. They all eventually lead to the central trunk."
"Continue," Elyndra encouraged him.
"The tunnels are like temporal roots. It doesn't matter which one we initially enter, what's important is understanding how to navigate between the different time flows to get closer to the center."
Richard raised the compass, observing how its needle fluctuated between different symbols.
"It's not looking for a single path," he concluded. "It's showing us temporal fluctuations so we can adapt to them."
A smile of recognition illuminated Elyndra's face.
"That's the test," she nodded. "The temple doesn't want you to simply follow a predetermined path. It wants to see if you can adapt to the constant changes of time, navigate uncertainty."
With this new understanding, Richard observed the tunnels with different eyes. Each represented a different temporal flow, and they needed to learn how to move between them strategically.
"Let's start with that one," he pointed to a tunnel whose symbol corresponded to slow time.
Elyndra nodded, and together they entered the darkness of the passage. The tunnel descended in a gentle slope, its walls covered by the same brilliant veins they had seen in the main cavern. As they advanced, Richard began to notice the change: their movements became heavier, as if they were walking against an invisible resistance.
"We're entering a slow temporal flow," confirmed Elyndra, her voice sounding deeper and extended. "Each second for us equals several in the outside world."
Richard experienced a strange sensation, as if his mind worked at normal speed while his body moved in slow motion. It was disconcerting, but fascinating at the same time.
"What's the strategy?" he asked, the words forming slowly in his mouth.
"Watch the compass," replied Elyndra. "It will tell us when we should change tunnels."
As they ventured deeper into the passage, the air itself seemed to thicken. Each step required a conscious effort, as if they were walking through a viscous, invisible liquid. Their voices sounded deeper, almost unrecognizable.
"This temporal flow..." began Richard, the words expanding like bubbles in molasses, "...does it affect our thoughts?"
"To a certain extent," responded Elyndra, each syllable extending for several seconds. "Your consciousness maintains its own internal rhythm, but sensory perception is drastically altered."
To demonstrate her point, she dropped a small stone. It descended with supernatural slowness, taking what seemed like minutes to travel barely a meter.
Richard tried to accelerate his movements, but it was useless. His body simply wouldn't respond at the usual speed. However, he noticed something interesting: his thoughts flowed with increased clarity. In this slowed time, he could examine each idea from multiple angles, consider implications and relationships with a depth impossible in normal time.
"It's like... forced meditation," he commented.
Elyndra nodded, the movement flowing like slow water.
"Ancient sages used slow-time chambers for deep contemplation. Decisions that would take days could be resolved in what were barely minutes for the outside world."
They continued advancing through the tunnel, which gradually serpentined to the left. The luminous veins in the walls began to form more complex patterns: interlaced spirals, fractal geometries that seemed to subtly change when they weren't looking directly at them.
"These patterns..." murmured Richard, captivated, "...do they mean something?"
Before Elyndra could respond, the tunnel abruptly widened, leading into a small circular chamber. In its center stood a column of polished stone, and above it, floating a few centimeters from its surface, a small triangular crystal that emitted a pulsating light.
"Is it... another fragment?" asked Richard, surprised.
Elyndra shook her head.
"A temporal key. It will allow us to navigate with greater precision between the different flows."
She approached the column with reverence. The crystal reacted to her proximity, its luminous pulse accelerating. With a fluid gesture, Elyndra extended her hand and the crystal gently rose, floating toward her until settling in her palm.
"These artifacts are extremely rare," she explained. "They were created in the era before the formation of the Veil, when understanding of temporal flows was more complete."
Richard watched, fascinated, as the crystal subtly changed color while Elyndra manipulated it. It shifted from green to blue, then to amber and violet, all in a continuous cycle.
"How do we use it?"
"We'll synchronize it with the compass," she answered. "Together, they will allow us not only to detect temporal flows, but also to slightly influence our relationship with them. It's like carrying a small temporal anchor."
Richard extended the compass and Elyndra brought the crystal close to it. At the moment of contact, a vibratory resonance traveled through the air. The compass needle, previously erratic, immediately stabilized, pointing decisively toward one of the three exits from the chamber.
"The path becomes clearer," said Elyndra with satisfaction.
A distant crackling made them both look up. Small dust particles were falling from the chamber ceiling.
"The temple continues reconfiguring itself," observed Elyndra. "We must move. This place won't remain stable for long."
Following the direction indicated by the improved compass, they headed toward the exit on the right. As they approached, Richard noticed that the air near the entrance rippled slightly, like heat rising from hot pavement.
"A transition threshold," explained Elyndra before he could ask. "We'll pass into a different temporal flow. Prepare yourself."
Richard took a deep breath, nodded, and together they crossed the rippling threshold.
The change was immediate and disorienting. The sensation of heaviness disappeared abruptly, replaced by an almost weightless lightness. Their movements, previously slow and laborious, now seemed too fast, almost uncontrollable.
They had passed from slow time to accelerated time.
"Be careful with your steps!" warned Elyndra, her voice sounding high-pitched and hurried. "In this flow, a stumble can become a serious fall before you can react."
Richard moved with extreme caution, trying to counteract the strange sensation that his actions were several steps ahead of his intentions. It was like being slightly drunk, but at the speed of thought.
The new tunnel ascended in a gentle spiral, its ceiling rising until lost in shadows. Unlike the previous one, this had crystalline walls that multiplied the light in kaleidoscopic patterns. Each sound produced immediate echoes that overlapped one another, creating a musical cacophony.
"This accelerated temporal flow," said Richard, trying to speak more slowly to compensate for the distortion, "how much faster does time pass here?"
"Approximately ten times normal speed," replied Elyndra. "One minute here equals ten outside."
Richard considered the implications. If they spent too much time in this tunnel, they could emerge to find that days or weeks had passed in the outside world. Fortunately, the compass enhanced with the crystal clearly showed that this was not their final destination, but a necessary passage to access another section of the labyrinth.
As they ascended, Richard noticed that small cracks appeared and disappeared in the crystalline walls, as if the tunnel itself experienced accelerated cycles of deterioration and regeneration.
"The temple breathes," commented Elyndra, noticing his gaze. "In this accelerated temporal flow, you can perceive its vital cycles that would normally be imperceptible."
After what seemed like a brief walk (though Richard calculated it would have been just a few minutes in normal time), the tunnel led into another chamber. This one was significantly larger than the previous one, with a vaulted ceiling supported by twisted columns that seemed made of solidified time: transparent layers showing different ages of the same material, from pristine rock to advanced erosion, all existing simultaneously.
In the center of the chamber, an extraordinary phenomenon captured their attention: a modestly proportioned tree whose branches moved in an accelerated cycle of growth, flowering, fruiting, and dormancy. They could see leaves sprouting, expanding, changing color and falling in a matter of seconds, only for the cycle to repeat indefinitely.
"The Tree of Ages," whispered Elyndra with reverence. "An organism that exists simultaneously in multiple temporal flows."
Richard watched, fascinated, how different sections of the tree experienced distinct seasons simultaneously: one branch in full spring bloom while another bore the weight of ripe fruits and a third shed autumn leaves.
"It's beautiful," he said, slowly approaching to better appreciate the phenomenon.
"And extremely rare," added Elyndra. "They only grow in places where time naturally fractures. This one must be very ancient to have reached this level of development."
Richard extended his hand toward one of the lower branches, where small buds opened into white flowers that then transformed into tiny golden fruits.
"Wait!" warned Elyndra, but it was too late.
The moment Richard's fingers brushed the branch, a discharge of temporal energy coursed through him. His eyes widened as his mind was flooded with rapid images: he saw the temple in different eras, its construction, periods of abandonment, rediscoveries... He saw previous visitors, some successful in their trials, others failing tragically... And most disturbing of all, he briefly glimpsed what seemed to be his own future: blurred figures that could be himself in different states and ages.
As abruptly as it had begun, the vision ended. Richard fell to his knees, gasping.
"I warned you," said Elyndra, helping him to stand. "The Tree perceives time differently. By touching it, you exposed yourself directly to its perception."
"I saw... so many things," murmured Richard, trying to process the avalanche of images. "The temple... other visitors... possible futures..."
"Temporal fragments," nodded Elyndra. "Some real, others mere possibilities. The Tree doesn't distinguish between what was, what is, and what might be."
Richard recovered slowly, his head still spinning from the experience. As he regained his composure, he noticed that the compass in his hand had changed: the needle now emitted a faint golden glow, and pointed directly at the Tree.
"Look," he said, showing it to Elyndra. "Something has changed."
She examined the compass with interest.
"Contact with the Tree has established a resonance. Now the compass is more finely tuned to the temple's temporal flows."
"Does that mean it now points to the correct path?"
"Not exactly. It means it can now detect more complex and subtle temporal patterns." Elyndra looked at the Tree and then back at the compass. "If my interpretation is correct, it's indicating that the path to the fragment is not linear. We must synchronize with the Tree's cycles."
Richard observed the fascinating organism again, paying special attention to its cycles. Indeed, there was a pattern: the different sections didn't change randomly, but in a specific sequence.
"It's like a code," he murmured. "Spring, summer, autumn, winter... but in different parts of the tree at different times."
Elyndra nodded.
"And if we look at the exits from this chamber..." she pointed to the five openings distributed around the perimeter, "...each corresponds to a distinct temporal state."
Richard began to understand.
"So we must observe which part of the tree is in which season, and use that to determine which exit to take at what moment."
"Exactly."
Together, they patiently observed the Tree's complete cycle, identifying the pattern. When they finally deciphered it, they waited for the precise moment—when the highest branch reached full bloom while the lowest lost its last leaves—and hurried toward the third exit.
The threshold glowed intensely when they crossed it, and Richard felt again that characteristic disorientation of transitioning between different temporal flows.
This time, however, something was different. Instead of acceleration or slowing down, he experienced a completely new sensation: fragmentation. It was as if each moment divided into multiple simultaneous possibilities. He saw echoes of himself performing slightly different actions, all superimposed like a multiple photographic exposure.
"What is this?" he asked, his voice resonating strangely as if several versions of himself were speaking almost in unison.
"A temporal nexus," replied Elyndra, her own image appearing diffuse and multiply superimposed. "A place where multiple timelines intersect. Be careful where you step. A decision here can branch into unforeseen consequences."
The tunnel they were in was different from the previous ones. It was neither ascending nor descending, but curved at impossible angles, creating the illusion that they were walking simultaneously in several directions. The walls didn't have a defined texture; they fluctuated between stone, crystal, living wood, and substances that Richard couldn't identify.
"Stay close," warned Elyndra. "It's easy to get lost in a temporal nexus. If you take a wrong turn, you could end up in a divergent timeline."
Richard watched, fascinated, how the tunnel seemed to branch before his eyes, momentarily showing visions of other possible passages before resetting to its current configuration. It was as if the labyrinth was actively contemplating what form to take.
"The compass," he said suddenly, noticing it had begun to vibrate in his hand. "It's reacting to something."
Indeed, the needle was spinning furiously, as if detecting conflicting magnetic fields. But the crystal they had obtained earlier shone with constant intensity, pulsing in a rhythm that seemed to counteract the compass's confusion.
"The crystal is functioning as a stabilizer," observed Elyndra. "It keeps us anchored to our main timeline."
They proceeded with extreme caution through the disconcerting passage. At certain points, Richard swore he saw figures moving in the periphery of his vision, only to vanish when he tried to focus on them directly.
"Are there other people here?" he asked quietly.
"Not exactly people," replied Elyndra. "They're temporal echoes. Residues of those who traversed this place at other times... or in other possible realities."
A particularly strong echo appeared before them: the translucent silhouette of a tall man with a long beard, dressed in clothes from another era. He carried a staff and seemed to study the tunnel walls with great interest.
"A previous seeker," whispered Elyndra. "Probably from centuries ago."
The figure didn't seem to notice their presence. It continued examining the tunnel and then vanished upon turning a corner that, in the current configuration of the passage, didn't exist.
Richard was about to comment on this strange apparition when a tremor shook the entire tunnel. The walls fluctuated violently, and for an instant, it seemed that the entire structure of the labyrinth would collapse upon itself.
"The temple is readjusting!" exclaimed Elyndra. "We must hurry!"
The crystal in Elyndra's hand pulsed with increased urgency, and the compass in Richard's hand suddenly pointed toward what appeared to be a solid wall.
"But there's nothing there!" he protested.
"Appearances deceive in a temporal nexus," replied Elyndra, resolutely advancing toward the apparent wall. "What you see is not necessarily what is."
When they reached the wall, Elyndra extended her free hand, holding the crystal in front of her. The solid surface rippled like water and revealed a hidden passage. Without hesitation, they entered just as another tremor, stronger than the previous one, shook the temporal nexus.
The new tunnel was different from all the previous ones. Its walls were formed by what appeared to be rings of a giant tree, each representing centuries of growth. Light emanated from a luminescent moss that grew in spiral patterns along the passage.
And most surprising: time here seemed completely stable.
"It's a neutral path," explained Elyndra, noting his surprised expression. "A rare point of equilibrium between different temporal flows."
"It feels... normal," commented Richard, relieved to finally experience a time flow similar to what he was accustomed to.
"This is the final threshold before the true test," said Elyndra in a solemn voice. "The labyrinth has judged us worthy to proceed, but what comes will be more challenging than simple temporal navigation."
They advanced along the neutral path, which descended gently in a perfect spiral. As they progressed, Richard noticed that the rings in the walls became older and more primordial: millennia of arboreal history preserved in undying wood.
"These are the Ancient Roots," explained Elyndra, passing her hand reverently over the surface of the wall. "The very foundations of the temple, which extend not only through space but through time."
Richard sensed they were approaching something important. The compass glowed with increasing intensity, and the crystal emitted a low, almost subliminal hum. The air became denser, charged with an energy that made his skin prickle.
"Elyndra," he said in a low voice. "What will we find at the end of this tunnel?"
She looked at him with a grave expression.
"The Chamber of Decisions. The place where the earth-time fragment truly tests those who seek it."
"What kind of test will it be?"
"One that probes not just your intellect or skills, but your very essence." She paused, as if considering how much she should reveal. "The earth-time fragment is related to permanence and change, to solid foundations and constant transformation. Its test reflects that duality."
Richard nodded, mentally preparing himself for what was to come. Throughout his journey, from the first fragment in the desert until now, he had faced challenges that had profoundly changed him. This would be no different.
The tunnel began to widen, and Richard perceived a change in the quality of light ahead. It was no longer the soft glow of moss, but something more intense, more primordial.
They were about to reach their destination when a massive rumble shook the entire structure. Fragments of ancient wood fell from the ceiling, and cracks appeared in the walls.
"Something is attacking the temple from outside!" exclaimed Elyndra, alarmed.
"The organization?" asked Richard, remembering their pursuers.
"Possibly. Or something worse." She looked ahead, toward the light emanating from what must be the final chamber. "We must hurry. If the temple collapses while we're inside..."
She didn't need to finish the sentence. The implication was clear: they would be trapped, possibly forever, in a collapsed temporal labyrinth.
With renewed urgency, they ran toward the light. The tunnel widened more and more, until it revealed the entrance to a colossal chamber whose interior they still couldn't clearly distinguish due to the radiance emanating from it.
Just as they were about to cross the threshold, an ancient and deep voice reverberated around them, as if the very wood of the Ancient Roots had found a voice:
*"Seekers of eternal knowledge, prepare to face the truth. Time does not wait, but earth remembers. Enter now, if you dare, and face the final test of the Temple of the Deep Roots."*
Richard and Elyndra exchanged one last look. With shared determination, they advanced together toward the light, toward the Chamber of Decisions and the test that would determine if Richard was truly worthy of the earth-time fragment.