The wind howled fiercely behind Aarav as he left the monastery of Vyoma. Snow danced through the air like ashes, and a crimson hue bled into the sky—the Blood Moon had risen.
Rivan walked beside him for a while, silent, then stopped at the edge of a frozen cliff.
"The Third Trial lies in the South," Rivan said, eyes gazing toward the horizon. "The Land of Sand and Bones. But tread carefully. The Third Truth does not forgive."
Aarav nodded, the wind sigil on his palm glowing faintly. With the First Flame and the Second Wind, he felt stronger—but also more vulnerable. Each truth peeled away a layer of who he was, leaving only what must remain.
As he began his descent from the mountains, a shadow crossed the sky.
A bird—massive, black-feathered, its eyes glowing with cursed light—circled once before screaming into the wind and diving straight at him.
Aarav leapt aside as its talons tore into the snow, freezing the ground beneath with unnatural ice. It wasn't a creature of this world—it was a Draksha, a messenger of Kaalkrit.
Before Aarav could react, the bird opened its beak—and a message spilled out, not in words, but in vision.
He saw the great desert city of Shar-Gul, its golden spires buried in sand.
He saw a chained woman—his mother—kneeling at the feet of a dark temple, surrounded by figures in black veils.
He saw Kaalkrit standing atop a dune, his blade drawn, armies behind him.
The vision ended with a single phrase, whispered into Aarav's mind:
"Come find her… if you survive."
Rage burned in Aarav's chest—but it was a quiet, focused rage. Not blind. Not desperate. He looked up at the bird, now hovering with eerie stillness.
"I will come," Aarav said. "And I will end this."
The ring pulsed in agreement.
With resolve sharpening his steps, Aarav turned south. His path would take him through cursed lands, sunless caverns, and into the very heart of the desert kingdom that had tried to erase its sins.
But he would not walk alone.
As night fell, a figure watched him from a nearby ridge—cloaked in green, face hidden behind a veil of smoke.
She whispered, "He's nearly ready."
And vanished with the wind.