Dense fog rolled over the vast lands far below, hiding most of the forest that boasted the colors of the rainbow. Giant obelisks poked out of the mists, some slanting, others broken; sleek and black save for silvery carvings that jumped out to Finlay whenever he looked at them though he was far away. The obelisks, like the many-armed statues, were also built by the Kymorathi. Supposedly. Scholars have clashing theories because the runes on the obelisks were different from those the Kymorathi employed in their magical artifacts that survived to this day.


    Although no one could be sure who made the obelisks, some of their runes have been deciphered. Those runes were crucial in making sternials and the rise of the Wardens. Replacing Adorned weapons to house Soulhearts, the human body would be the vessel. In a way, humans borrowed the Soulhearts of others for themselves, taking care of it in the warped space of sternials. Hence, Wardens.


    Clues of the vibrant life below pranced above the silvery cover that partly concealed the caldera. Different kinds of birds nested on the peaks of the black obelisks, flying snakes chased flying fishes, and sky gem lilies bobbed in the air.


    Finlay switched to Aethersight. The caldera didn’t turn into a disco party because he was too high on the wall to pick up the life residues of the plants and animals below. The obelisks, however, blazed like lighthouses from sucking up the natura of their surroundings.


    Returning to his normal vision, a melancholic smile formed on his face.


    The first time he reached this place, chills of excitement went up his body. The Big Bowl truly looked like something out of a fantasy book, compared to the random forest with random magical creatures Finlay had hiked through. He lost that sense of adventure as the years went on. Seeing all of this again made him forget his body’s soreness that anima cycles couldn’t fully suppress.


    He noted the position of the obelisks and mentally mapped where to go. Then he turned his gaze farther north.


    The blanket of fog ended at the opposite side of the Big Bowl, bounded by walls far taller than where he stood. Beyond that were muddy forms of the mighty mountains of perpetual ice, several days of traveling away. They were so tall he could see them from the Big Bowl.


    I should give the Frost Trolls a visit, he thought.


    Nearly two years from today, at the height of the Gilders'' civil war—or its absolute bottom, looking at it from another perspective—the Sporeal Tide would descend from the north. Spore-infected Frost Trolls and other monsters would lay waste to Gilderian towns and cities, capturing people to be enslaved like their hosts were. All the warring factions would be caught by surprise. Any resistance crumbled and the infection was released to the whole continent.


    This was the Sporeal Tide’s earliest appearance on Ilaya.


    Well… a bit earlier than that. Some months maybe. The Sporeal Tide would’ve needed time to spread through the Frost Trolls tribes before attacking the Principality of Gilders.


    Finlay didn’t know much about Frost Trolls. He hadn’t met any, whether normal or mutated, only seeing pictures of them in books. Instead of waiting for the Sporeal Tide at Gilders, he considered investigating the northern mountains and stop the first Fairy Ring—the portal circumscribed by alien mushrooms used by the Sporeal Tide to travel across worlds—from going up. An expedition with that grand a goal would need lots of preparation.


    Could he bring an entire Gilderian army by next year? He couldn’t even begin to contemplate the steps required to pull that off.


    “Want to compare to-do lists?” Finlay asked the Kymorathi statue nearest him.


    There were hundreds of statues to his right and left, sitting in a line. Could even be thousands of them atop the Big Bowl’s rim. Instead of facing outward like the statues Finlay had met on the way up, these looked inward at the caldera. They also seemed to be performing handlocks of some kind. He couldn’t really intuit what they were for because the anima flow with four hands doing locks would be different from two.


    Were these statues connected to the obelisks, maybe trying to extract natura from the long-lost lifestream passing through this area a long time ago? But these statues appeared to be pure stone in his Aethersight. Nothing special other than their cool design and intricate carving that barely weathered over millennia. All that labor and resources for what?


    They couldn’t be purely decorative, were they? Something religious related?


    “I suppose humans have built the pyramids,” Finlay said. “And we don’t have magic to pull it off.”


    He toured the top of the walls, saying ‘hi’ and ‘hello’ to the statues, as he looked for a way down. No crack on this side to cheat and make his descent safe. However, there were bizarre vine trees that grew from inside the caldera and up the walls, gigantic tendrils digging into rocks to hold on, and springing entire trees their whole length as if they were branches. He didn’t know what they were. Probably some magical mutation caused by anomalies in this area because he hadn’t seen them elsewhere. He could even jump down from coil to coil of the tendril, its leaves and net of branches providing a great cushion.


    “Found it,” Finlay said, jogging to a coil of vines that had slumped over the wall and choked a few statues into rubble.


    A few more centuries and the vine might touch down on the other side. If Finlay succeeded in stopping the Sporeal Tide, this vine-tree would have all the time in the world to go wherever it wanted to. It might even crawl all the way to Worwick.


    With only half the time of his ascent, Finlay climbed down the vine tree and dropped into the new world of the caldera. The sun was still up but already hidden out of sight by the walls, their shadows painting vast tracts of the colorful forest with grey. On cue, plants and animals started to make light for various purposes such as attracting food.


    Add in the bright moon and Finlay wouldn’t need to rely on Aethersight to navigate come nighttime. It wasn’t the answer to darkness anyway. He could fall into a ditch or trip over a rock; those wouldn’t show up in his sight.


    It was bizarrely humid inside the caldera as if he were somewhere tropical like the Dawnkeep Islands or the rainforests of Lamech. The air had that stickiness about it. It wasn’t cold despite the heavy fog and this place being further north.


    “I can figure out mysteries after I plant the seed,” Finlay said.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Cogwyn used the obelisks as landmarks when telling Finlay about where his party found the lifestream. Finlay had pretty good memories of the Big Bowl—good as in clear, not enjoyable—because of the ton of his near-death experiences here. Also, first times always made an impression, and his first solo mission trying to hunt a Soulheart was definitely unforgettable. But even if Finlay knew where to go, he hadn’t explored the northeastern side of the caldera where the lifestream was located. His sense of adventure was returning.


    “I’m just going to borrow this.” Finlay grabbed a glowing bulb the size of a basketball. It was dangling like the lantern of an angler fish from a tall plant he didn’t know the name of.


    He effortlessly pulled it off the plant and hurried away as a green liquid sprayed out the exposed end of its stem—it was acid that smelled like rotting bananas. The acid dissolved the grass around the bulbous plant as if thousands of invisible caterpillars had eaten them away. It was strong enough to corrode a rock that got splashed on, hissing as it scarred the hard surface.


    The bulb Finlay held, as well as the several others remaining on the plant, contained chemicals that made a type of light attractive to animals. A tap from an inquisitive creature would detach the bulb. The surprise acid shower would then kill the animal, its quickly decomposing corpse becoming fertilizer for the plant.


    That meant the bulb was dangerous to carry around. But Finlay had a purpose for it.


    It should be somewhere around here, Finlay thought, warily alternating Aethersight and his normal vision as he delved deeper into the forest of the Big Bowl.


    He came upon a place that ticked off his senses like the world pimple. An assortment of grass, mostly green with some odd colors mixed in, wrapped around the base of large trees and boulders. It was a picturesque scene for a relaxing trek through the woods despite the failing light. But ‘normal’ wasn’t how the Big Bowl should look. There were no animals here, even tiny rodents scurrying inside burrows. Only insects here and there. And the plant life was too simple and felt curated to look normal.


    Something dangerous had taken up residence here, lying in wait to capture and eat anything with meat that passed by—a Living Skin.


    Finlay always thought it was a nonsensical name because skin was living unless removed or if the body died. But he could guess what the guy who came up with it probably thought of. The Living Skin was a slime monster that spread across a large area, burying itself in the soil and nurturing grass to grow over it as camouflage—its whole body could be thought of as skin. If prey mistakenly wandered on top of it, the slime would contract in half a blink and wrap around the poor animal, crushing its body instantly.


    Cassini had told Finlay about the resident Living Skin of Big Bowl during their trip here. Apparently, it was famous in Worwick for claiming many human lives, parking itself on the path most hunters and trappers took.


    It was important for a Warden to be knowledgeable of the creatures of Ilaya. Besides the obvious part of not getting killed by said animal, deducing the Soulhearts used by enemy Wardens and knowing their strengths and weaknesses was crucial in a fight. Mind games and surprises were features of Warden battles. Most people, even Wardens, underestimated just how quick and stealthy Living Skins could be. Finlay knew an assassin-for-hire specialized in transforming into a Living Skin. That was just his entire thing, and he was very good at his job.


    I still can’t spot its Soulheart, Finlay thought. The natura lines he perceived were only those in the grass. Their brightness was a tiny fraction of those back in the world pimple.


    Colored blips sparkled in the shadows. Soulhearts. Different from what he was looking for. He picked up a few animals interested in the glowing bulb. They were just in time.


    A sudden shift of natura lines to his right.


    He threw the glowing bulb that way without thinking twice and sprinted full steam ahead. He didn’t bother to check if that was the Living Skin. It’d be too late if it really was it. Shrieks of animals that chased after the bulb told him he was correct.


    He felt bad using them as bait, but there was no way he could pass the Living Skin otherwise. Taking other routes, like the one he explored without Cassini, would lead him too far from his goal. Those paths had their own challenges he couldn’t tackle at his current strength.


    All traces of the sun had vacated the sky as it became truly nighttime. The moon and glowing plants lit his way. But it wasn’t the end of the dangerous encounters.


    Finlay met a mountain Itziri as he forged a trail from obelisk to obelisk. This beast that looked like a cross between a hyena and a warthog had a capture rating of six. Mountain Itziris had this ability to suddenly dash forward at several times their normal speed, and their energized tusks could put a serious dent on an iron shield.


    He could discern from its uneven steps that this Itziri was injured. Stealing a few glances at it, he saw that it was malnourished, desperate to hunt even weird-looking prey like him. Healthy predators wouldn’t care about prey that wasn’t their usual diet.


    Finlay tried to lose it by crawling through a rotten log but it managed to find him again. He picked up a sharp rock. Where was a small space he could lure it to? Restrict its movements so it couldn’t gore him with its tusks. A wound or two would make the mountain Itziri think twice about trying to eat him.


    An earthshaking roar stopped Finlay in his tracks. It literally made his bones tremble and his heart palpitate wildly. He couldn’t move. The Itziri also halted, letting out a small whimper. The racket of animals in the forest fell silent.


    A Grumpbeing! There was one living inside the Big Bowl?


    This monster with a fortyish capture rating was nearby; Finlay felt the sense of dread its aura brought. The ground shook from the heavy footfalls. The Grumpbeing was coming to eat the prey it had snared, which included Finlay. He concentrated his will and stabbed his leg with the rock. The shock of the pain broke him free of the fear paralysis.


    He ran opposite the shadow of a hill approaching, ignoring the burning in his leg and blood warming his pants. Judging himself safe, Finlay climbed up a tree. Gritting his teeth while tying his wound with a strip torn from his shirt, he observed the slow-moving Grumpbeing appear. It chomped on the Itziri immobilized by fear. Square stone teeth ground against each other as it chewed its food.


    “That’s a valuable Soulheart…” Finlay said.


    Strong Wardens could shrug off the fear aura with ease, but if used at the right moment, it could buy a couple of seconds. That was an eternity in a fight. Just have to remember it affected allies too.


    Finlay persevered in his journey with a slight limp. His injury upped the danger level. More close encounters tested his quick thinking, experience, and instincts.


    The non-stop action made him worry about the World Tree seed he’d plant. Some animals might try a nibble of it. Even with the nutrients of a lifestream, the World Tree wouldn’t be instantly gigantic. He''d need to figure out how to protect the young World Tree because he couldn’t always be around. The location of the lifestream, as Cogwyn described it, was easy to defend and hard to reach for most animals. It was a vast cave with its ceiling collapsed—an ancient sinkhole.


    It should be near, Finlay repeated in his head as blinked away the salty sweat from his eyes. It should be or else I’m toast… I miss the buttered toast from the office cafeteria.


    Fatigue took its toll and his thoughts started to swirl. A beginner’s body wasn’t meant to extensively cycle anima like he did. His mouth was dry and his stomach rumbled. Pain gnawed his wounded leg. He was yet to obtain the ability to regenerate his body.


    Plant the World Tree seed and worry about the wound afterward.


    Focus. This was unfamiliar ground. He switched to Aethersight, ignoring his strained eyes and burgeoning headache.


    The horizon was ablaze with light of all colors—the lifestream was truly nearby!