Rewrite The Star

CHAPTER 52 : THE RELICS

CHAPTER 52: THE RELICS

With Darren and Nowell now alongside them, Atlas and Creed continued their journey toward the lost manuscript of Heartmillers. They crossed deep forests and a rushing river where Nowell nearly drowned, only for Creed to save him just in time. Later, they faced a two-headed serpent, a terrifying creature whose swift strike knocked Atlas unconscious. In a single, powerful move, Creed took the snake down, leaving Darren and Nowell staring in awe. As dusk settled, the group pressed on, their exhaustion palpable.

"Hooman, how much farther?" Creed asked, breaking the silence as he walked beside Atlas.

"Hooman?" Darren and Nowell both thought, shooting suspicious glances at Creed. "How dare he call Atlas that," Nowell grumbled internally, eyes narrowed.

"Almost there, don’t worry," Atlas replied, leading them through the dense trees until they reached an old, abandoned stone house, moss clinging to its walls.

Finally arriving, they all collapsed onto the ground, catching their breath.

“Phew… we did it,” Atlas panted, smiling.

“You nearly killed us with that trek!” Darren exclaimed, exasperated.

“Well, better than dying halfway,” Atlas shot back, smirking. Darren just rolled his eyes, slumping against the wall.

Once they’d caught their breath, Atlas gestured toward the house. “Let’s head inside for the night. It should be safe.”

Nowell stretched, looking around. “I’ll go hunt for our dinner—anyone want to join?”

Atlas and Darren glanced at Creed, who sighed heavily. “I’ll go with you, kid,” he replied, rising to follow Nowell into the forest.

As they left, Darren nudged Atlas. “So, this is where you grew up?” He looked around the weathered house. “You must have been loaded.”

“Cut it out,” Atlas muttered, laughing lightly.

Darren grinned. “Aw, trying to act humble now?”

Atlas shook his head. “I’m serious, drop it.” He lightly swatted Darren’s arm, but the two laughed. It felt good to have a moment of levity.

Darren’s face grew more serious after a moment. “So… why do you think the manuscript is here?”

Atlas hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. Darren was one of the few people who knew the truth about his family, so he finally nodded, deciding to trust him. “The map… I can sense where it leads,” Atlas said, opening his pack to show the ancient scroll. Darren glanced at the markings on the map, his brow furrowing.

“Oh, right. Because… Heartmillers,” Darren said, his eyes widening. Atlas simply nodded, understanding unspoken between them.

“The manuscript should be hidden somewhere here,” Atlas continued, glancing around. “But I also sense there’s something else, something connected to it.”

“What else could be here?” Darren asked, leaning in.

Atlas opened the Stellaria Coetus and began to read aloud:

“Stars weave their light in the fabric of night,

Aligning with time, igniting the dark’s gentle flight.

The stream cradles secrets, the echoes of yore,

While the clock guards the moments, forever and more.”

As Atlas finished, his vision blurred, and he was transported once again. In the vision, he walked alone through a dark stone hallway, torchlight flickering on the damp walls. Following a faint glow, he reached a room with mirrors lining the walls, each showing a different scene.

The first mirror revealed a demon clutching the manuscript, and the world descending into chaos. The second showed Atlas and his friends, their bodies still, the manuscript just out of reach. The third revealed a blood-stained Atlas holding the manuscript, his friends lifeless around him. The fourth mirror was blank, the surface smooth as glass. Then, all at once, a blinding light filled the room, pulling Atlas out of the vision. He came back to reality with a gasp, collapsing.

“Atlas! Are you okay?” Darren shouted, rushing to him.

Atlas steadied himself, wiping cold sweat from his brow. “It… it was another vision. We’re close—closer than we’ve ever been.”

Moments later, Nowell and Creed returned, Nowell dragging a wild boar behind him, his clothes torn and scratched from the hunt. Creed looked as composed as ever, not a single mark on him.

“What happened to you?” Darren asked, smirking.

“This guy left me to chase the boar alone,” Nowell complained, glaring at Creed.

“Kid, I was scouting,” Creed replied, unfazed. “And for the record, I caught the boar in under an hour.”

Nowell grumbled, turning away in embarrassment. Atlas chuckled, motioning for them to bring the boar inside. “Darren, help me prepare it for dinner?”

Darren shrugged. “Why not?”

As they prepared the meal, Nowell commented, “It’s been ages since I’ve had one of your meals, Atlas.”

Atlas smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He glanced up, catching sight of Creed, whose expression had darkened with a flicker of jealousy