Paltio began to run as if the wind itself were propelling him, desperate to escape the vision that pursued him: his friends transformed into floating heads. His breathing was ragged, uneven, while the hammering of his heart echoed in his ears like distant drums. Why did that specter want a leaf from that tree? Golden wondered within Paltio's mind, struggling to comprehend the logic behind such a desire. It made no sense.
"Now is not the time to worry about that," interrupted Paltio, his voice trembling but resolute as he continued running. "Remember, we have company... and they might realize we're in a psychic link." His words came quickly, almost breathless, yet charged with urgency.
"Hurry up, prince boy!" exclaimed Milko, whose voice sounded so close it seemed glued to Paltio's shoulder. His mocking, taunting tone contrasted sharply with the tension of the moment.
"I've reached the second floor," announced Paltio, pausing briefly to catch his breath.
"I know, I'm not blind," snapped Milko impatiently. "But the stairs are at the end of the hallway. You'd better hurry."
With a quick nod, Paltio resumed his sprint. The hallway beneath his feet felt unstable, creaking as if it were about to collapse at any moment. Suddenly, arrows shot up from the floor, whistling through the air and striking the walls with metallic echoes. Fortunately, Paltio was shorter due to his age; the arrows were designed to hit adults.
"Phew!" he exhaled, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He reached the stairs and began climbing to the third floor. Meanwhile, outside the psychic link, Alita and Ron fought against the sand that had already risen to their knees inside the tube.
"I hope Paltio can make it," murmured Alita, her voice barely audible over the roar of the sand.
"Hey, butler," said Pax, approaching Mok with determined steps. "Can't you cut this tube with your magic sword and free them?"
Mok slowly shook his head, his expression serene but firm. "I could, but that would betray our host. And that's not how we do things in Avocadalia."
"Ugh, you're such a fool!" shouted Pax, spinning around in frustration.
On the third floor, Milko watched Paltio with a mix of amusement and malice. "Hey, little prince, surely you're doing fine, huh? But there's one more floor, and you look tired. Why don't you rest for a bit?" The suggestion was clearly a provocation.
"No!" replied Paltio with determination, though his voice betrayed the physical effort he was exerting. On the third floor, the ground was riddled with deep cracks and dark holes that made progress difficult. Crossing this without using your powers wouldn't be easy, thought Golden mentally, projecting his reflections toward the young prince.
"You might actually make it," Golden told him telepathically.
"How?" asked Paltio, scanning his surroundings with sharp eyes.
Golden pointed to a protrusion in the wall, like an exposed brick. "There are several of those. You can use them as a path, but be careful. They don't look very stable."
"Understood," murmured Paltio, preparing to leap. With a powerful push, he launched himself into the air, gripping one of the bricks tightly.
"Uh! You found a way, buddy!" exclaimed Milko, feigning surprise. "I hope you don't fall. It would be a shame to see you turn into a floating head like me."
"Don't distract me, little head," retorted Paltio, carefully swinging to reach the next brick. "If I fall here, I'll end up as another servant head for Eveldow."
"Well said, princeling," replied Milko, chuckling under his breath.
From the shadows, Eveldow observed everything with a satisfied smile. He had sent Milko precisely because he knew how much the young prince would be irritated by him. "Heh, heh... First, I send Milko, the youngest and most obnoxious one I know, to drive the boy mad and make him fail. That way, I'll not only have two servant heads but also the others, since they'll surely want to try again. How clever I am," he congratulated himself, pleased with his cunning plan.
Despite everything, Paltio was putting on quite a show. Eveldow enjoyed watching how the prince fought against each obstacle, displaying admirable resilience.
Paltio leaped gracefully to the next brick, his arms straining with effort as his body swayed in the air. One by one, he advanced over the unstable bricks. When he reached the last one before the other side, it gave way under his weight. Paltio felt his fingers slip, but with a muffled cry, he managed to cling on tightly. With one final desperate push, he flung himself forward, finally landing on solid ground as the previous brick collapsed toward the first floor in a shower of dust and debris.
"That was close!" exclaimed Paltio, breathing heavily as he got to his feet. His heart still raced, pumping adrenaline through his body.
From the shadows, Eveldow watched intently. "What are you doing, Milko? Make him lose," he muttered to himself, his voice laced with frustration at the young prince's persistence.
Meanwhile, Paltio reached the staircase leading to the fourth floor. Down below, his friends were already buried up to their shoulders in the sand inside the tube. The weight of the sand compressed their bodies, making even the slightest movement difficult.
"Wow! This sand is really fast," commented Galatea, crossing her arms as she observed the scene with a mix of fascination and concern. Her eyes followed every gesture of Alita and Ron, who were trying to stay calm despite the situation.
"Can't you do something?" Alita asked Nakia, her voice trembling with urgency.
Nakia shook her head, her expression serious. "No, unless you want to risk being accidentally destroyed. The space here is too confined to use my magic without causing collateral damage."
Alita swallowed hard, her eyes reflecting the fear she felt. "O-Okay," she responded timidly, her voice barely a whisper.
"Great, first monsters, now ghosts, and on top of that, they want to bury us alive," said Ron, attempting to move within the sand. But it was useless; he was squeezed next to Alita in a tube so narrow they could barely breathe. "I wonder what's coming next," he added sarcastically, though his tone couldn't quite mask his growing desperation.
On the fourth floor, Paltio climbed the stairs and found himself facing a floor that seemed to be made of glass. It was strange, as if it floated above an invisible abyss. "I wouldn't make any moves if I were you," warned Milko, hovering nearby with a mocking smile.
"Always so negative," Paltio shot back, glaring at him in irritation.
"And what did you expect? I'm dead. My very existence is a constant reminder of everything lost, not gained. I'm not like those friendly ghosts from old movies, smiling and helping the living as if death were just a change of scenery. Those things don't exist," replied Milko, his tone dripping with irony and disdain. To emphasize his point, his eyebrows—or where they should have been, since they were barely visible—arched exaggeratedly, as if he were trying to shrug, though, of course, he had no shoulders or body to rely on.
Paltio ignored the comment and took a few steps forward. The floating head watched him intently, as if trying to warn him not to continue. Confused and desperate due to the dwindling time left according to the hourglass, the prince decided to press onward.
Suddenly, the floor beneath his feet began to glow with scorching heat. Paltio quickly pulled his boot back, feeling the heat burn even through the sole. He retreated immediately, and the floor returned to its normal state.
"Damn it!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing in the silence of the place. "And now how am I supposed to get across?" he asked Golden mentally through the psychic link.
Golden responded calmly: "It seems to be a phantom illusion or something similar. Perhaps it's a trick to make you believe the fire is real. Try testing it by dropping something."
Paltio reached into his magical bag and pulled out a shiny marble he had collected since childhood. He carefully rolled it across the floor. The small sphere moved a few inches... until suddenly it burst into a shower of sparks.
"Damn it!" shouted Paltio, watching as his precious marble was consumed by flames. "That one was part of my collection!"
Milko erupted into laughter, his cruel cackle echoing through the space. "You're hilarious! We'll be great friends for eternity once you join Eveldow."
"No, it's an illusion," countered Golden calmly, his voice resonating in Paltio's mind like a soothing echo.
"So, what do I do?" asked Paltio, scanning the path ahead. His eyes landed on a door at the end of the route. A premonition washed over him, similar to the feeling he'd experienced when fighting dangerous creatures in the past.
"There it is again," noted Golden, detecting the same energy in the boy.
"Yes," replied Paltio, resolute.
"Tic Tac! Tic Tac!" Milko's voice interrupted the moment, laced with mockery. "Prince, your time's running out. The sand is already up to your friends' necks."
"Alright, there's no other choice," said Golden with a telepathic sigh. "Remember when I told you these boots have something special? They possess another ability: since they were created with my power, wearing them is like using one percent of my strength. What you need to do is activate them... but after a moment, the light will fade, and you'll be left in complete darkness. Are you ready to take the risk?"
"If I had alternatives, I'd never run out of them," replied Paltio firmly, though his voice trembled slightly. "But I must save my friends. They're like family— a family I've had all my life."
"You're only thirteen; that's not much of a life," commented Golden with an ironic tone, though behind his words lay an implicit respect for the young prince's determination.
"Forget it already," said Paltio impatiently. "What do I need to do to use the power of the boots?"
Golden explained patiently: "You need to create friction with them. That will make you run as fast as the wind carries a soul."
"Generate friction?" asked Paltio, confused.
"Just pretend you're running in place. Do you understand?" instructed Golden, bringing a hand to his forehead as if anticipating the boy's clumsiness.
"Yes, I think I get it," replied Paltio, nodding quickly.
The prince began moving in place, his legs spinning rapidly as Milko watched him with an expression caught between bewilderment and amusement. Suddenly, bright sparks erupted from the boots, illuminating the surroundings. Paltio felt a rush of excitement mixed with adrenaline as the boots sprang to life, propelling him forward at an incredible speed. The floor beneath him began to heat up, but Paltio shot across the space like lightning, reaching the doorknob just before the heat could catch him. With a swift motion, he opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him just as the light from the boots faded.
Surrounded by darkness, Paltio took a deep breath. As he touched the floor inside the room, he noticed it was cold and stable. "Apparently, the lava effect only happens outside," he thought to himself, relieved.
"And now, how am I supposed to proceed?" murmured Paltio, until he remembered he had a flashlight in his pocket. He pulled it out and turned it on, revealing the tree exactly as he had seen it in the astral plane—or something similar that Meliradal had shown him.
"The piece must be here," indicated Paltio, cautiously approaching the tree.
"Hi there!" exclaimed Milko suddenly, floating beside him.
"You almost scared me," said Paltio, placing a hand over his chest.
"You forgot I'm a ghost. I can pass through things," replied Milko with a mischievous smile.
"True," admitted Paltio, rolling his eyes.
"Hurry up, your friends are almost out of air. The sand is up to their noses," pressured Milko, his tone more serious than usual.
Paltio advanced cautiously, each step trembling and alert for any hidden traps. Upon reaching the tree, he slowly extended his arm and touched one of the leaves with the tips of his fingers.
"Wow, that guy managed to touch something even Eveldow couldn't reach," remarked Milko with a mix of astonishment and sarcasm.
"What did you say?" asked Paltio, turning toward him.
"Nothing, I'm just saying time is running out, Paltio," replied Milko, averting his gaze.
Suddenly, Paltio began to hear a voice in his mind, ethereal and mysterious: Do you wish to know things from the past, the future, or the immediate present?
"Hey! What is that?" exclaimed Paltio, alarmed. But before he could say anything more, the surrounding floor began to crumble. The prince fell into freefall, surrounded by darkness.
"I think he's about to become a ghost sooner rather than later," said Milko as he watched the boy disappear, starting a mocking countdown: "60, 59..."