Having gotten to the root of the problem, all that remained was to find the solution—a mission Shirei was determined to accomplish.
He tried to picture his own body, with all its channels and organs arranged in their proper positions. He searched for the Silver Vessels, where mana could flow freely, and reached his sternum, the resting place of his Divine Core. Mana and aether were condensed within it, yet he had no idea of their internal arrangement.
He recalled Ada's words, and how she was able to channel the aether through mana.
All he had left to do was understand how the mechanism worked.
It would be much easier if I knew how to control the aether, or if I had my memories…
He shook his head. This wasn't the time to be distracted by his thoughts. He desperately wanted to uncover his past. He had imagined having a family waiting for him, people still searching for him. In all his years at Cragar's palace, he had received no news—but he knew things would change once he arrived in the Mortal World and the Otherworld.
If gods hadn't gotten in my way, I'd probably be with them already… maybe.
He repeated the motion, realizing he had let his thoughts break his concentration, and returned to the aether.
First, he tried to push the aether out of his core with a deep breath. He wasn't even sure he had succeeded until small lights appeared in the black backdrop of his still-closed eyelids.
After that, he tried to reabsorb the same particles by inhaling. He stretched out his fingers and let the aether return the same way it had exited.
He suspected that mana had accompanied the movement, but he couldn't distinguish between the two energies. He felt sweat bead on his forehead—a strange and unusual sensation given the place he was in.
I'm proceeding without any idea. It's like stumbling in the dark.
Suddenly, a flash of insight struck him.
I have to remember that mana and aether can be converted into each other within my core. I still don't know how, but I believe I can control it with my will.
The Blendbreed tried to channel mana toward his eyes, focusing on the energy he felt flowing within. He attempted to guide it with his will, to funnel it directly toward his visual system—but nothing happened.
The aether seemed to ignore his commands, rebelling against every attempt at control like a river refusing to be diverted from its natural course.
A tremor of frustration rose within him, but he decided not to give up.
Particles of mana flowed upward, drawn by the call of his aura, filling the Divine Core until it became saturated. The buildup of energy began to make itself felt—a growing weight pressing against the barriers of his own body, creating a magical surplus on the verge of overflowing.
If I fill the core with mana, before it converts, the aether must necessarily be expelled. Only then can I make room for the particles I'm absorbing.
The Blendbreed felt the energy reach his sternum. He sensed he was on the right track. Without opening his eyes, he bent down and settled on the ground. He believed that meditating would make it easier to visualize the process he wanted to activate within his body.
He took a deep breath and let the particles reach the capsule of the Divine Core. A disturbing sensation—like a needle inflating a balloon—spread to the base of his neck, a sign that the Thebrion was filling up more and more.
Now I have to pull the mana back from the visual system.
That's when the incident occurred. As the magical energy returned to the core, aether was supposed to take its place and fill the channel leading to the eyes, mechanically pushing its way to the eyeballs.
What the Blendbreed hadn't accounted for was his total inability to control his body.
He felt the particles of mana strike the Divine Core, even as it was already emptying reflexively.
This didn't happen before. I could keep the particles from overflowing without any problem. Why does it feel like I've forgotten how to use my powers?
He wondered if it was all tied to the words of his doppelgänger, but there was no point in worrying about it at that moment. He was back to square one.
He needed to: send the mana to the eyeballs; let the particles enter the Thebrion; draw the mana into his eyes; push the aether to fill the only free space, now that the core was occupied.
The process seemed easy that way, but he failed two more times before allowing himself a break. He was tempted to give up, but his ambitious nature wouldn't allow it.
He kept trying, growing more and more casual in his attempts, even losing focus on the operation.
He realized the Placid had abandoned him in his own subconscious, but he didn't suffer from that solitude. A sharp pain struck his temple, forcing him to grimace.
I could really do without this terrible headache, though.
He wondered how others might react to the trail and how they would behave within it.
Marina would struggle. She's not uncomfortable in crowds, she knows how to hold a group's attention and how to speak to many people. If I asked her, she'd say she's a loner—but she's not. She doesn't even realize it.
A faint, involuntary smile crossed his face at the thought of Ien's daughter. The second person he worried about was Dahlia. He suspected the girl would end up shutting down and stopping at the starting point.
Better get back to focusing on the movement of the aether…
He froze.
Lost as he was, he hadn't realized he'd succeeded—he felt the aether pumping energy into his eyes. They burned, as if ready to shoot laser beams.
He cautiously reopened his eyelids and saw the world around him had changed.
He could see the force lines running through the rock, the energy currents flowing through the mountain like blood through veins.
And there, hidden from his eyes but clear to his new senses, he saw the solution. The wall was the secret door to a passage that led who knew where. It wasn't a dead end—just a test.
All I have to do is pass through it with the Ethereal Pulse.
Shirei took a breath and sent the signal to his Divine Core to activate the new peculiar technique. He stepped toward the wall with confidence, timing the moment of crossing precisely—but something went wrong.
Slam!
He crashed into the rock wall and fell backward with a thud, landing on his back against the floor. The violet-eyed boy rubbed his head, feeling a sharp pain shoot through his temples. The pain was acute, almost paralyzing, but he knew it couldn't be real. It wasn't a physical wound, just a deceptive signal—an echo his mind sent to make the experience of the Evanescent Trailfeel even more real. An irritation added to the intense dizziness caused by the time spent there. After all, that place was nothing more than a projection of his subconscious—a labyrinth given tangible shape.
He forced himself to ignore the discomfort and focused on the failure of his technique.
Why didn't the Ethereal Pulse work? What's blocking its power?
Without giving up, the Forbidden Heir prepared for another attempt: he closed his eyes, regulated his breathing, and tried to connect to the Interworld, seeking to immerse himself in that familiar dimension—but every effort proved futile.
The only explanation must be that I can't do it.
He was beginning to understand how his journey worked.
I have to face each challenge like a game to overcome.
One of the powers of Cragar's son was Geokinesis—the control of earth and its materials. In other situations, he could have used Spectral Travel, but mastering a different aspect of his divine inheritance could always prove useful.
So this is the goal of the trail… it wants to steer me toward using all of my powers—in this case, geomancy.
It was a skill that had remained on the sidelines, almost forgotten, because he had never truly needed it.
And that I've neglected for no reason.
Used to solving problems with Spectral Travel or sheer physical ability, he had never invested the time or effort necessary to truly understand the latent strength in his hands.
The Evanescent Trail demanded more, and he wouldn't get anywhere if he continued piling up hollow excuses. He realized, bitterly, that his laziness and habit of seeking the easiest route had left him vulnerable—unable to fully harness his potential. The words of the Placid, who had warned him about his hidden weakness, began to echo with newfound clarity.
The real obstacle isn't the wall in front of me, but my reluctance to face what I didn't know. I've been so focused on reaching a vague goal that I've skipped over an important part of myself…
He was weak because he had never bothered to explore that power—just because he had mastered a better one.
"I've never even considered what I'd do if Spectral Travel was taken from me…" he sighed, leaning against the wall with newfound awareness.
He placed both hands on the wall and channeled the mana he felt inside himself. He allowed his will to extend to the stone, letting the particles act as vectors. First, he condensed them, then did his best to spread them into the ground below.
The command was clear: collapse and let me through.
The rock wall vibrated from the mana, then began to crumble—like a barrier made of children's building blocks.
Before him, a new passage opened—a tunnel that delved into the mountain's depths. The violet light resumed its glow, guiding him forward. Cragar's son proceeded down the path, each step taking him deeper until he came upon a second rock wall.
Without hesitation, he placed his hands on the cold, rough surface, summoning his mana in an attempt to repeat the operation that had worked before. He closed his eyes, focusing on the energy flowing within, and commanded the wall to fall so he could pass.
Nothing happened.
The wall remained intact, unmoving, as if immune to his efforts. The Blendbreed had hoped to replicate the success of the first obstacle, but this second wall was different—stronger, almost impenetrable. Despite repeating the process, he felt the connection to the rock break, the mana dissipating with no effect.
The trial was much more complex than he had anticipated.
Curious, he placed his hands on the wall again, this time with gentleness. He closed his eyes, focusing on the tactile sensations. That's when he felt it: a faint symbiosis with what he was touching. The wall was too thick to be crumbled in that way.
So this is the limit of what I can do in my current state? I have to master this power first, then return here?
He paused to reflect.
Then why didn't the Placid stop me? He should be able to hear my thoughts. It wouldn't make sense to trap me here if I couldn't go any further…
He stared at the wall. The only way to get through was Spectral Travel, a power he knew well, one that had helped him countless times.
I just have to hope it works this time…
He took a breath, summoned the darkness, and let it cloak him—like a shadowy mantle ready to pull him into the Interworld. He felt the familiar tingling along his skin, the splitting sensation that always preceded the transition into the spectral realm.
That's it.
He prepared for the shift, but just as he was about to vanish, something went wrong. The shadows dispersed, pushed back by a force he couldn't understand. He found himself in his physical form again—trapped and powerless.
The failure hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him stunned. He couldn't explain what had happened, but the truth was clear: Spectral Travel was no longer a technique he could rely on.
The oppressive silence wrapped around him like a shroud as he stared blankly at his trembling hands. He closed his eyes, trying to calm the turmoil that stirred his soul. His ragged breathing echoed in the dark cavern, bouncing off the rock walls like a mocking laugh.
Slowly, as his heartbeat began to settle, the boy returned to his thoughts on the situation. It couldn't be a coincidence that his powers had abandoned him at that exact moment.
It's testing me even further, he murmured to himself, his voice hoarse from the long silence. I still don't understand the meaning behind it, but that's fine.
He had to start over, rediscover the source of his powers as if it were the first time. It was the only way out.
He focused on his breathing, letting the slow, steady rhythm lull him into a state of deep calm. Shirei knew all too well the feeling of pure energy flowing through his veins when he forged contact with the Interworld.
I can do this.
Seconds passed, becoming minutes—maybe even hours. He remained still, ignoring the sharp pain in his head and the urgent confusion caused by his time spent on the Evanescent Trail. He wondered how much time had passed in the Mortal World, and whether his companions were safe.
I can only hope the Placid is being honest.
He was about to give himself a break when he felt it. A tremor—faint as a butterfly's wingbeat, but undeniably present. He clung to that sensation, feeding it with mana. The tremor grew, transforming into a wave of energy. He inhaled, feeling the cavern's cold air fill his lungs. He exhaled, letting the tension leave his body.
Gradually, the boy began to sense a change. It was as if the boundaries of his being began to blur, to become less defined. He could feel the energy of the cavern flowing through him, as if his body had become permeable to the surrounding world.
With one last breath, he let go. He felt a tearing sensation, as though something within him had snapped.
Then, he felt free.
When the Blendbreed opened his eyes, he found himself floating in a stormy sea.
The Interworld he knew—once dark but familiar—had become utterly hostile. The shadows seemed to move with a will of their own, a latent rage that pulsed in the oppressive air. Every sensation in that realm screamed its desire to see him fall. His balance began to falter; he could no longer orient himself. The ground beneath his feet seemed to shift and sway. He tried to lower himself, hoping to stabilize his center of gravity, but the gesture proved useless—the Interworld didn't follow the same rules as reality, and his movements seemed to drown in a void devoid of reference points.
Each step became torture, each breath a gasp. Physical disorientation was joined by nausea—a vortex of illness that clenched his stomach and made him stagger. He felt the realm-between spin around him, accompanied by a searing pain in his temples that intensified with every second. The Interworld was trying to expel him, rejecting his presence with a violence he had never experienced before. The dizziness and suffering were dragging him toward a pit whose bottom he could no longer see.
I can't stop now, or I'll have to start all over again.
To be honest with himself, he wouldn't have minded facing that sensation—but going back would be a waste of time he might never regain.
If Havel and Ada were in danger, I definitely couldn't stay here.
He turned to the wall, which now appeared different. He could see the energy coursing through it, the currents of power flowing across it like tiny streams of water. And, most importantly, he could see beyond. In his spectral state, the rock offered no resistance. He passed through the barrier as if it were made of mist, his body spasming slightly as the wall's energies interacted with his essence.
He continued forward with great difficulty. He felt his body tearing from within, as if each limb were desperately struggling to remain attached to his torso. His arms and legs pulsed with pain, shaken by an invisible force that seemed intent on dismembering him piece by piece. It was a new sensation—an agony he had never experienced during Spectral Travel. He didn't know how to respond.
Why is the Interworld treating me this way? Why now, when I need stability and control the most?
Thoughts flooded his mind, confused and overwhelmed by the pain. He found himself fighting not just the place, but his own limits, pushed to the breaking point. With the last of his strength, he managed to repel the darkness, tearing himself from the furious embrace of the Interworld and emerging once again into the Evanescent Trail.
As soon as his feet touched solid ground, he collapsed, exhausted. He lay on the cold, unfamiliar surface, his chest heaving with frantic breath.
After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and forced himself to look at the place where he had resurfaced. Beyond lay a new environment, entirely different from the cavern he had left behind. It was a vast open space, lit by a diffuse glow that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once.
The Blendbreed rose slowly and took his first cautious steps forward, observing in wonder the surreal landscape around him. Crystalline formations jutted out from the ground, reflecting and refracting the light into countless colors.
A noise tore through the silence. Shirei turned sharply, just in time to see a swarm of rocks hurled toward him. He tried to summon his powers to shield himself, but he was still too inexperienced.
I won't make it in time…!
He let himself fall to avoid the impact—but it never came. Instead, he felt the ground vanish beneath his feet. The world around him became a vortex of shadows.
He was falling into the void.
For a moment that felt like an eternity, he floated in total darkness. There was no up or down, no right or left. It was as if the trail had swallowed him, erasing every point of reference.
When he landed, the impact knocked the air from his lungs. He remained motionless for a few moments, trying to catch his breath and understand what had happened. He sat up, scanning his surroundings.
He was back at the starting point.
He recognized the altar and heard the sound of rushing water.
What's happening?
The Placid reappeared before him to answer that very question.
"The time has run out. One of the Wanderers is approaching."
That strange word unsettled him, so he repeated it:
"A Wanderer?"
"A bearer of the fragments of darkness. There's no time to explain more—you must go."
The son of Cragar swallowed hard, thinking back to the strange creature he had seen in the Headmaster's office.
"Are they hostile?"
"Not inherently. They possess free will like anyone else. But that's not the issue. You must try to avoid them," the double paused, then added, "Until you are strong enough to face the darkness, this is the only way to safeguard the Otherworld."
The situation was more than serious, but Shirei had realized that long ago. Only one question remained—the one that burned in his aching mind.
"How will I access this place again?"
The Evanescent Trail began to fade before his eyes. Just before returning to reality, he heard the final words of the Placid: "You'll find the way in due time. Now go back and survive."