The tiny cave was far from comfortable.
Enough space to sit with his back against the rough, high rocks.
His mind a mess.
His body full of pain.
Fear of the dark void keeping him from sleep.
His head full of taut veins pulsing with every heartbeat.
Tears threaten to fall at the corners of his eyes; after all, he isn't an adult yet.
"Fuck, this hurts…" he sniffles, mixing sobs with a desperate laugh.
"When I make it out of here, imma make lots of money…" he murmurs to himself.
"Yeah, add lots of pretty ladies to that sum and make it a lifelong goal," he says, finally getting himself to sleep.
What he feared happens as he finds himself in the same dark void.
This time, he takes his time looking around.
The silence creeps the hell out of him.
He takes deep breaths followed by short ones to calm himself.
"Where am …" His monologue is cut short as the pain hits him in full force.
This time, he stays conscious and in control of his emotions.
With a face full of resolution, he sits in the lotus position, determined to ride this wave away.
But he seems to have overestimated himself too much, as after a couple of seconds he falls into his previous wailing marathon.
The pain doesn't come with no gain.
As the pain ends, his head clears, empty, zero thought—akin to a blank canvas.
The actions he took before falling asleep replay themselves clearly, with one motion standing out.
His head rings a mantra, as if trying to engrave itself on him:
STAB
SWIPE
STAB
SWIPE
DODGE
REPEAT.
His head reads it like a mantra.
With that also come the scenes of when he first engraved his first glyph.
The very emotional state he was in at that time.
The sensation that went through his body, and finally, how Old Eight and Little Red wielded them.
"It's all wrong," he says unconsciously.
"That won't work for me… first, who am I?" he stops.
"Why do I want to wield the glyphs…"
"Am I worthy…" he continues.
Without his knowledge, his surroundings start to morph.
The black void clears lightly.
"Worthy… why… survival…" his thoughts bleed all around.
They eventually fall on the backlashes.
"Too many backlashes… how to minimize…" he asks no one in particular.
This all stops as another wave of pain hits him in full force, and he loses his last bit of consciousness.
His body starts fading, leaving behind a pair of eyes blinking in childlike amusement.
"Baby human… last… longer… now… interesting…" a chilling childlike voice rings from the empty void, followed by a giggle as innocent as it comes.
Its eyes blink twice before closing and snoring.
Back in the outside world, Lady White sits on a tree with her feet dangling from the branch.
On her ear, a glowing communication device hums with a yellow hue.
"As I said, old man, I'm fine, and I'll be back before the end of two days…" she says before cutting off the connection.
She looks towards the cave, sighing lightly.
"Better survive the three days, for what's waiting for you is a world full of pain."
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Light embraces the skies as dawn breaks.
She looks toward the skies with a melancholic face.
"When will my reason for escape come… I envy you, big sister."
With that, her figure fades to the background as the rocks covering the cave crumble, making way for Eylin's exhausted figure.
"Wrong… all wrong…" Eylin's voice is heard, almost frantic, like a madman.
"I've been wrong all along," he continues, reaching for his bag, retrieving the hide from his previous hunt.
He places it down, sitting.
He places it together with a few pieces of teeth.
"Now, clear the mind… calm as a river… deep as the earth…" he recites his self-made mantra.
Opening his eyes, his expression changes into total blankness.
"Why do I wield glyphs…" he asks himself.
"Is it survival… or rather because there is no other way…"
"What are glyphs in the first place… a dynamic spell language… or rather a representation of a character…" he murmurs, his eyes shining as if ready to grasp something crucial.
"A symbol… that's what it is…" he adds.
"Require and demand perfection…" he pauses. "But I'm far from perfect."
"So what do I do… find a perfect medium to wield the glyph for me."
"Let me try…"
The surroundings fade out of view from him.
He cuts four pieces of skin, spreading them on the ground.
Picking up one, he inspects it before wiping away the blood.
"For it to work, I must engrave it… what shall I use…" he murmurs.
"The law of equal exchange… blood…" He looks around, failing to find anything to use as a substitute.
He bites his thumb, puncturing it to allow blood to flow onto the skin patch.
Lady White observes this with a serious face.
She doesn't blink, not wanting to miss a thing.
"This is not normal," she says, her easygoing attitude vanishing completely.
Her gaze locked on Eylin.
Eylin gathers a small puddle of blood on the skin.
"Hope this works…" With a small word of prayer, he dives in.
He starts with the spell he is most familiar with.
"Bind it is," he says with finality. "Core, then modifier ring, then anchor…"
He recalls the basics he learned, his hands moving in tandem.
On the skin patch, the core takes form in the shape of a static chain made completely of earth, representing the concept invoked.
The modifier ring takes shape as interlocking blue chain links, pulsing with slight energy.
Nodes connect them on all cardinal corners, acting as the anchor.
"Base done… now unto the limiters," he adds, taking a pinch of soil, circling it around the base, forming a sort of wall, invoking his intentions in it.
"Lasts till the sand fades…" he murmurs.
"Binds upon contact with target…"
His one-man show goes on until the links and bonds interlock, forming a centered triangle with a bound eye in the middle, signifying its completion.
His eyes gain clarity as he observes his handiwork.
And right there on the skin is a wall of earth surrounding chains, interconnected with energy nodes on all cardinal corners, followed by pulsing chains binding an eye inside a triangle.
