The Beninging

Chapter 3

As she descended the rugged path from the temple, the weight of the power inside her became more familiar, less like a burden and more like a presence she could begin to understand. The air was crisp, and the mountains stretched endlessly before her, their sharp peaks cutting into the sky. The old man's words echoed in her mind, but her focus was on the road ahead.

She had no map, no clear direction only a sense of purpose driving her forward. The relics he mentioned were scattered, their locations lost to time, but somehow she knew she'd find them. She had to. The stone's power thrummed inside her, a quiet reminder that she wasn't just fighting to control it; she was fighting to stay herself.

As she moved deeper into the wilds, she became attuned to the world around her. The wind carried whispers, the trees seemed to sway with her steps, and the very earth seemed to hum beneath her boots. It was as if everything was connected, and the stone was amplifying her awareness. At times, it felt overwhelming, but she quickly learned to push it to the background, to focus only on what mattered.

After days of travel, she reached the first village. A small, unassuming place nestled in the valley, where life moved slow and simple. She pulled her hood low as she entered, her eyes scanning for any sign of danger. The village was peaceful, almost too peaceful. But the moment she stepped into the heart of the settlement, she felt it—a familiar pulse of power. Someone, or something, here was connected to the stone.

Keeping her distance, she observed the people milling about. A blacksmith worked near the center, hammering iron with precise, rhythmic strokes. A group of children ran through the dirt streets, laughing, oblivious to the tension she carried with her. And then she saw it: an old woman sitting outside a small house, her hands clasped around something hidden in her lap.

The pulse was coming from her.

She approached slowly, her heart racing. The old woman didn't look up as she drew near, but there was a knowing smile on her face.

"So you have arrived," the woman said softly, her voice carrying the weight of centuries. She lifted her head, and her eyes locked onto hers. "You carry the stone's burden, don't you?"

For a moment, she hesitated, unsure if she should trust this stranger. But the power thrumming from the woman was undeniable. She nodded.

The old woman gestured for her to sit beside her. "I know why you've come. You seek the relics, as others have before you. But beware, child—those who search for such power often find more than they bargained for."

"I don't want power," she said, her voice low. "I want control. I don't want to lose myself to this."

The old woman chuckled, a dry, brittle sound. "And yet, power and control are but two sides of the same coin. The relic you seek here... it will help you, but it will also test you. The trial ahead is not one of strength, but of will."

Her chest tightened at the warning. "What do I need to do?"

The old woman's gnarled hand reached out, revealing a small, silver amulet hidden beneath her shawl. It shimmered faintly in the afternoon light, pulsing with the same energy she felt in the stone. "This is the first relic. It will amplify your connection to the stone, make it stronger. But only if you're strong enough to bear the weight."

She stared at the amulet, feeling its pull, like a whisper in the back of her mind. "And if I'm not?"

"Then it will consume you," the woman said matter-of-factly. "But you've already come this far, haven't you?"

Swallowing her fear, she reached out and took the amulet. The moment her fingers closed around it, she felt a surge of energy shoot through her, stronger than anything she had felt before. It was as if the stone inside her recognized the amulet, its power doubling, surging, threatening to overwhelm her.