Kaelen collapsed against the jagged rock face, breath tearing from their throat in ragged gasps. Every muscle shrieked. A raw ache gnawed at their core, a hollow void where the earth-song once resonated. They had emptied themselves, pouring all resonance into that final, shattering chord, silencing the Deep Fissure’s Chasm-Crawlers.
Strength had bottomed out. Not a speck remained.
Crag moved through the newly formed rubble, unaffected. No heavy breaths escaped him. His gait was steady, an ancient rhythm against the ravaged ground.
Kaelen watched, weary. Crag was an enigma, inhuman in his endurance. Kaelen had spent everything to crush a fraction of the burrowing horrors. Crag had barely stirred, yet he now sifted through the churned earth of the fissure, relentlessly searching.
What was he seeking? Such futile efforts, Kaelen thought.
Crag reached a section of bedrock where the Chasm-Matron had made its lair. He tore a massive slab from the earth. Stone peeled away like damp soil beneath his hands.
Hidden beneath lay a pulsing, fist-sized stone. It glowed faintly, a deep, mineral luminescence.
Crag lifted the stone. He turned it over in his calloused fingers.
He tossed it to Kaelen.
Kaelen, baffled, caught the cool, throbbing mass. It vibrated with a faint hum.
“Eat this?” Kaelen’s voice was a rasp, raw from the earth-song.
“The Heart-Stone of the Chasm-Matron.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“It is not a common stone. This will become the next earth-mother. Its essence, its core, is concentrated within.”
“Like the Fissure-Serpent bile?” Kaelen shuddered, recalling that ordeal.
“More potent. Consume it.”
Kaelen hesitated. The stone pulsed in their palm, radiating a strange warmth. Finally, eyes squeezed shut, Kaelen brought it to their lips.
The crystalline shell cracked. A viscous, earthy liquid, thick with mineral light, flowed into Kaelen’s mouth. It tasted of deep earth, ancient minerals, raw power.
As it slid down their throat, a searing heat erupted. Kaelen’s entire being ignited. A scream tore free, ragged and raw. Kaelen writhed on the broken ground, hands clawing at the earth.
The Fissure-Serpent’s agony was a child’s tantrum compared to this. It felt as if countless sharp shards were piercing Kaelen’s belly, twisting, grinding. Their very bones seemed to shift, reshape, then fracture anew.
Crag watched. His face remained impassive. He offered no help.
“Survival in this sundered world demands pain. Learn it.”
This was the price for strength, Crag implied. This agony, by his measure, was mere discomfort.
Leaving Kaelen to their suffering, Crag moved toward the colossal carcass of the Chasm-Matron. His hands were precise, cutting where mineral plates met sinewy rock.
The Matron’s body remained pristine, a marvel of untouched might. Such a complete specimen was rare.
Nothing went to waste. Two crystalline antennae, perfect for sensing unstable earth currents, were removed. Six dense, calcified limbs, ideal for shaping resonant tools, were carefully severed.
Crag reached deep into the Matron’s torso. He retrieved a fist-sized gem, not unlike the Heart-Stone, but duller, more muted. It was a pure earth-gem.
Not all earth-gems came from mines. Some creatures, especially ancient ones, formed them within their bodies. Often, these were of exceptional purity, retaining the creature’s elemental essence.
The Matron’s titanium-like shell could be forged into formidable land-armor. Its dense innards held various precious minerals.
Crag gestured. A small, spatial tremor rippled. He stored the entire Chasm-Matron carcass within a rift that opened briefly in the air.
Kaelen’s agony continued. They whimpered, body curled like a fetal rock-grub, too drained to even scream properly. The Heart-Stone’s essence was rewriting their very lithic connection.
Digesting it would take time.
Crag drove his Resonance Rod into the ground. He sat beside it. The Rod, tempered with core-earth, now hummed with a deeper, more profound tone.
There was a faint, earthen glow along its obsidian length.
These external shifts were secondary to Crag. What truly mattered was the Rod’s core spirit.
It hummed a response to him. Crag listened, head tilted, for a long moment.
“Yes,” Crag rumbled, his voice low. “I know its yearning. But there is no choice.”
He paused. “Weakness invites ruin. That is the fate of the earth-faint.”
“You sense it, don’t you? Our time is short. We need Kaelen, strong.”
Another pause. “Right. But…”
The conversation between Crag and his Resonance Rod stretched, an ancient dialogue.
Kaelen sighed. Eyes flickered open. Their entire body ached, as if hammered into new shape. A deep weariness, a residual thrumming in their bones, was undoubtedly from the Heart-Stone’s consumption.
The night had been a blur of piercing pain. That their limbs still functioned felt like a miracle.
Kaelen checked their inner resonance, their earth-song. A gasp escaped them. The connection had deepened, widened, at least threefold.
“Your earth-song, your resonance control, should now be sharper. Fewer stray tremors.” Crag’s voice echoed.
Kaelen turned. Crag was rising, storing the Resonance Rod.
“The Heart-Stone… it did this?”
“Correct. Certain creature essences amplify a Singer’s connection. Only special cores, like the Matron’s, hold such potency.”
“Rested enough? Rise. The Sundered Expanse awaits no one.”
“Yes. Right.” Grasping their aching legs, Kaelen rose. Complaining was pointless. Crag would not bend. Better to stand, despite the pain.
---
With Crag’s aid, the surge in Kaelen’s earth-song was substantial. The pain, though immense, faded into memory, a necessary crucible.
Kaelen followed Crag out of the Deep Fissure. The harsh light of the Sundered Expanse, previously a torment, now felt almost welcoming.
Crag was already striding into the distance. Kaelen quickly focused, feeling the ground beneath their feet. A new current of power surged. They extended their will. The fractured earth shifted, eased, propelling them forward with a glide.
Their body slid across the uneven terrain. With ample earth-song, Kaelen could manipulate the ground without straining. Keeping pace with Crag no longer felt impossible.
Kaelen adjusted their rough, earth-fiber robe. It had been rent during the Chasm-Crawler battle. Now, as Kaelen moved, the fibers knit themselves, infused with renewed earth-essence. The garment slowly reformed, returning to its undamaged state.
Its ability to deflect geological stress remained intact. The robe’s natural earth-walking property, combined with Kaelen’s amplified resonance, made traversing the desolate Expanse less arduous.
Kaelen took out a piece of dried nutrient-bark, chewing slowly. Where was their final destination? In this vast, shattered world, Kaelen wondered at Crag’s relentless purpose.
If not for this journey, Kaelen would never have cared. Now, a deep pull, a need to understand, compelled them to follow.
Just then, a fierce Dust Squall swept in. Violent winds whipped fragments of rock and grit into a dense, swirling curtain.
Kaelen pressed the rough robe tight, squinting. An ordinary wanderer would be lost, blinded. For Kaelen, the squall was only a minor discomfort. Their enhanced earth-song extended their senses. Kaelen could feel Crag’s steady steps several meters ahead, each impact resonating through the very stone particles in the air.
It was as if the earth itself whispered Crag’s movements.
‘This is what true connection feels like,’ Kaelen thought. They glanced at the crude symbol carved into their forearm – a rising mountain, a single line within it. A basic symbol of their path. But the depth of their power now far surpassed such simple markings.
It was all due to Crag’s brutal guidance. Kaelen could progress rapidly, unburdened by old conventions.
‘The key is to truly *hear* the earth.’
This insight crystallized during the battle with the Chasm-Matron. Fighting solely with predetermined sonic patterns was foolish. The same earth-song, applied with intent, could yield vastly different results.
To envision the earth, to sing it into reality – this was the heart of Kaelen’s strength. A truth they would never have grasped without Crag’s relentless push.
‘Still, he is a demanding, ancient stone.’
He always pushed Kaelen to the brink, expecting them to survive alone. Fail, and he would discard them without mercy. Though the thought of being discarded held less terror now, Kaelen still craved to follow through. By staying with Crag, a deeper strength beckoned.
Kaelen no longer wished to struggle, exhausted, pursued by weakness. This path was a mystery, but following Crag, Kaelen believed, might lead to a power like his own.
Lost in thought, Kaelen walked. The Dust Squall abruptly dissipated. Vision cleared.
Crag’s back stood in the distance. He walked, focused, through piled dust and grit, not bothering to brush it away.
Then, without warning, Crag halted. The sun was still high. It was not his time for rest.
Kaelen approached, stood beside him. Crag remained unmoving, eyes fixed on the horizon.
Kaelen’s gaze followed. Their eyes widened. Something massive moved where the sky met the fractured desert. A deep, thrumming sound vibrated through the ground.
Kaelen confirmed its identity, a gasp caught in their throat. It was a colossal tortoise-form. Thousands of times larger than any creature, its shell was a vast, moving landmass. Its stone was the deep blue of ancient ore, a sign of B-rank or higher elemental purity.
“That’s… what is it?” Kaelen whispered.
“The Continent-Back, a living isle.”
“It’s… a giant earth-beast. Only B-rank, but its defenses rival A-rank landmasses. People build fortresses on its shell, ride it across the Expanse.”
“Humans can tame such a creature? Ride it?” Kaelen’s face was incredulous. The story was impossible. Yet, the fortress-shaped settlement atop the titanic beast made it undeniable.
The Continent-Back lumbered toward them. Its steps seemed slow, yet its sheer scale meant it covered ground quickly. Up close, it was overwhelming. The living landmass was the size of a small sky-island.
The notion of taming such a beast was staggering.
Finally, the Continent-Back halted directly before them. A section of the fortress-shell opened. An old man emerged, his face a web of deep wrinkles.
He pushed spectacles higher on his nose. He looked at Crag.
“I doubted from afar, Crag. But it truly is you.”