Today was the day. The full moon would rise tonight, its silvery light illuminating the peaks where the Moon Bloom flower would blossom under its glow. Kale sharpened his spear methodically, the rhythmic scrape of stone against wood grounding him. He glanced at Alden, who sat nearby inspecting his sword.
"I'm heading for the high peaks," Kale announced abruptly, breaking the silence. "The Moon Bloom flower will bloom tonight. I need to grab it and head back to the sect."
Alden looked up, startled. "Oh, right—the moon is full tonight!"
Kale nodded, watching Alden closely. "Are you coming with me?"
Alden hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Sure, I'll come. The high peaks are close to where I'm looking for those rare ores anyway. I gleaned some information about them from the Ocean a month ago."
Kale didn't respond immediately. Instead, he focused inward, tugging at the familiar pull of his active seeking state. Golden threads shimmered into view, and motes of light danced lazily around him. This time, however, something caught his attention—some motes drifted toward Alden.
That's strange, Kale thought. Yesterday, no motes appeared near him. Is it because of my growing mastery of this state? Or something else?
Curious, Kale willed one of the motes near Alden to drift closer. When it touched his consciousness, fragments of knowledge flooded his mind: Alden, 16 years old, skilled swordsman.
Kale smirked inwardly. So this state can be used for more than just navigating or fighting...
But then another fragment surfaced—a fleeting memory of Alden moving through dense underbrush, bow in hand, taking down prey with practiced precision. Experienced hunter?
Kale's suspicion deepened. He told me his father was a fisherman, and he only learned swordsmanship recently. Why does the Ocean show him as an experienced hunter?
Something wasn't adding up.
•---•
They walked through the mist-veiled forest in tense silence. The air was thick with moisture, muffling their footsteps and distorting distant sounds—animal calls, rustling leaves, and the occasional howl carried by the wind.
Kale's plan crystallized in his mind. Once they reached the base of the mountains, he would separate from Alden. Whatever secrets Alden was hiding, Kale couldn't afford to take chances—not when the Moon Bloom flower was so close.
As they climbed higher, the golden threads grew brighter, pulsing faintly as if reacting to the impending full moon. Kale felt the hum of the Ocean intensify, guiding him toward the peaks.
"We're getting close," Alden said suddenly, breaking the quiet.
Kale glanced at him but said nothing. His grip tightened on his spear.