The forest grew denser as they pushed inland, the air thick with moisture and glowing spores drifting like fireflies. Hours passed in silence, broken only by the crunch of their boots and the occasional hiss of unseen creatures slithering away.
Elira lagged behind, muttering notes into memory now that her journal was gone. Ronan scouted ahead with predatory ease, while Edric cut a path through vines with his sword, his movements sharp and deliberate.
By dusk, they stumbled upon a clearing—and froze.
At the center bubbled a spring, water clear as crystal, surrounded by flowers that pulsed with faint blue light. The pool itself shimmered unnaturally, as if light twisted inside it. From the air, the faint hum of energy could be heard, like the low note of an unseen instrument.
Elira gasped. "Essence… in liquid form." She rushed forward, crouching by the edge. "This is extraordinary. It's not just in the ruins or creatures—it permeates the land itself. Look at how it condenses here."
Ronan hung back, eyeing the pool with suspicion. "Looks pretty. Pretty things here usually want to kill you."
Edric knelt beside Elira, peering into the water. His reflection shimmered strangely—his eyes glowing faintly in the surface, though in reality they were unchanged. "What happens if you drink it?"
Before either could answer, a stag emerged from the brush. Its antlers glowed faintly, veins of light running through its body. It lowered its head to drink from the spring.
The three watched in awe. For a moment, the stag glowed brighter, its wounds knitting closed, its muscles swelling with power. Then, as if overwhelmed, it shuddered violently. Its form twisted, antlers cracking into grotesque spirals. With a final shriek, it collapsed, its body dissolving into essence-light that drifted into the air like sparks.
Elira covered her mouth. "It… it healed, then destroyed it. Too much essence overwhelms the body."
Ronan spat into the dirt. "So it's poison dressed as medicine. Figures."
Edric stood, his eyes still on the spring. "No. Not poison. Power. But it must be measured." He clenched his fist. "Anything that can heal wounds that quickly could save countless lives if controlled."
Elira's gaze softened, seeing his ambition burn clearer than before. "You're thinking of your kingdom."
Edric didn't deny it. "This is more than survival. If we master this… we could change everything."
Ronan crouched and dipped his dagger into the spring. When he pulled it out, the steel gleamed faintly, sharper, humming with hidden strength. He smirked. "Now this, I can use."
Elira shook her head urgently. "Careful! Prolonged exposure could warp it—or worse, you."
"Then I'll use it fast," Ronan replied, tucking the dagger away.
Edric placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, staring at the glowing water with grim determination. "We won't abuse it. But we will use it. Properly. Strategically."
Elira looked between them, torn between fear and awe. "This land isn't just dangerous. It's a crucible. It changes everything it touches."
The three filled their flasks carefully, each with different thoughts in mind: Elira with curiosity, Ronan with pragmatism, Edric with ambition.
As they turned to leave, faint movement stirred in the treeline. Shadows slipped between the trees—silent, deliberate.
Edric's hand went to his sword. "We're not alone."
From the mist, a figure stepped forward—the same native woman they had met before. Her glowing markings shimmered brighter in the twilight, her eyes locked on the spring.
"You touch what is not yours," she said coldly. Spears bristled as more hunters emerged around her, surrounding the trio.
Elira's breath caught. "It's them again…"
Ronan smirked, hand drifting toward his dagger. "Guess they didn't like us stealing a sip."
Edric stood tall, facing the leader unflinchingly. "Then let's see what price you demand this time."
The clearing thrummed with tension as the glowing spring hummed between them—life, death, and power all bound in liquid essence.