The first instinct of the group was to ready themselves, gripping weapons and focusing their mana. Yet, as the figure emerged, an overpowering aura enveloped them, rooting them to the spot. The Dryad’s presence was both mesmerizing and terrifying. Its aura wasn’t simply magical; it resonated deeply with the land itself. The faint rustling of leaves accompanied the floral sweetness that permeated the air, carrying a hint of warning amidst its pleasantness.
The Dryad stepped onto the pond’s surface, its feet creating ripples of light. As it moved closer to the shore, grass sprang up from the barren ground, blooming with vibrant flowers and small vines. Every step brought an explosion of life, as if the world itself bent to accommodate its passage. The figure’s form shimmered with an ethereal glow—a melding of bark-like skin, intricate floral patterns, and glowing veins that pulsed with mana.
The group watched, frozen in awe and trepidation, as the Dryad stopped a few meters before them. Its glowing eyes swept over each of them, pausing on each face for several long breaths. The intensity of its gaze made them feel exposed, as though it peered directly into their souls.
Finally, the Dryad raised its hands, crafting patterns in the air. A triangle of light formed first, then a circle, the two merging into a harmonious shape that radiated energy. The air vibrated gently, not with words, but with an understanding that resonated in their minds:
Fellow creatures, fellow creatures,
Remember this well, for your burdens are heavy.
Remember this well, cataclysm approaches.
The words echoed within their thoughts, leaving them no room to doubt their gravity. As the message settled, something unfamiliar yet natural unfurled in their consciousness. The knowledge of the [Sinlung Breathing Technique] seeped into their minds, as if it had always been there, waiting to be uncovered:
Breathing well, breathing heavy,
Breathing stalled, breathing stopped.
Guiding your veins throughout your body.
Breathing all the mana into the body,
Breathing out mana as you go.
The Dryad’s voice returned, more insistent:
Practice now, fellow creatures.
Our future depends on it.
I will guide you on the first attempt.
The group hesitated, their bodies still tense. But as the aura shifted, its hostility receding into an encouraging warmth, they slowly relaxed. They closed their eyes, focusing inward. The Dryad’s tendrils, delicate and adorned with faintly glowing blossoms, extended toward each of them. When the tendrils brushed their temples, a soothing energy flowed into them, correcting their posture and guiding their breath.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
The first inhale was shaky, but as they fell into rhythm, the [Sinlung Breathing Technique] revealed its brilliance. Mana surged through their veins, synchronizing with their natural vitality. With every breath, their senses sharpened. The world became more vibrant, the sound of the forest crisper, the mana within them more potent. They completed one hundred breaths, the Dryad’s guidance steady throughout. As they opened their eyes, they noticed the tendrils now bore blossoms—half blue, half red.
You succeeded, huzzah.
The flowers wouldn’t appear if not.
The flowers wouldn’t appear if not.
The Dryad’s telepathic voice conveyed a sense of solemn pride. It continued:
Practice this every day, as much as you can.
You are forbidden from teaching it.
We will pick who gets to learn.
For now, for now.
With those final words, the Dryad turned back toward the pond. The group, still in a daze, watched in silence as it retreated into the water. The ripples grew still, and the Dryad vanished, leaving only the glow of the spring behind.
Larin was the first to break the spell. Bowing deeply, he called out, “Thank you for the blessings!” His voice carried an earnest gratitude that shook the others from their trance. They quickly followed suit, bowing and murmuring their thanks.
As they made their way back to their camp, the group was abuzz with conversation.
“Meeting a Dryad,” Rinku whispered, awe lacing her tone. “It’s… it’s the stuff of legends. Pupi always mentioned them in passing, but I thought they were just stories.”
Ngieri was shivering, her wide eyes reflecting the fading glow of the spring.
Rinku continued “They’re the Guardians of Sinlung, tasked with preserving the land. It’s said they only appear in times of great need. This can only mean one thing: something terrible is coming.”
“But the [Sinlung Breathing Technique],” Gwendon interjected, flexing his fingers as if testing newfound strength. “Even with just one attempt, I feel… different. My mana’s flowing more smoothly, and my body feels lighter. What could it do in the long run?”
Larin, walking slightly ahead, spoke without turning. “If this technique is as powerful as it feels, it could change everything. But why would the Dryad choose us? And why forbid us from teaching it?”
“It’s not for us to question their reasons,” Ngieri said softly almost like a cry. “I’m scared, guys, what will the Church say ?!”
The group fell silent, the weight of their encounter settling heavily on their shoulders.They decided to rest a bit before heading back, their minds swirling with thoughts of what lay ahead. Larin broke the silence and said “We have much work to do. Let’s do our best.” With determination everyone stood up and departed into the deep undergrowth forest.
That night, they arrived at Tlangthar just after 2am and went straight to each of their houses. Larin lay awake, staring out of his window. His body hummed with the residual effects of the breathing technique, but his mind churned with questions. The Dryad’s warning echoed in his thoughts: Cataclysm approaches.
Before dawn, another tremor rocked the earth. It wasn’t as intense as the previous ones, but it was enough to jolt the city awake. The quakes had become more frequent, and the foreboding mystery behind its cause made everyone uneasy, it wasn’t openly discussed, but it was discussed in private or in whispers.