After resting briefly beneath the branch of an old tree, Anoby and Hina slowly stood, gazing at the dark forest stretched ahead. Under the thin moonlight piercing through the gaps in the branches, the black leaves on the ground glowed faintly, as if welcoming them to step further. Hina's long white hair flowed softly, blown by the cold night wind, and the firmness in her face bore the marks of decades of experience.
Anoby carefully lifted the lantern so its light reflected off the surrounding tree trunks. "Let's go," he said briefly. "We continue the journey." He gripped the iron pipe at his waist, feeling a subtle vibration flowing through the metal tip. Shadows of the past still clung to his mind, but his resolve did not waver.
They walked forward, stepping along the path of old roots leading to a narrow trail. Every step whispered that the night in the Land of Shadows still held its breath. The air felt damp, the scent of wet earth and dew clung to their skin, as if inviting a heavy silence. Hina tightened the scarf around her neck, then carefully followed the fading root marks on the ground.
Crossing the Root Passage
A few steps led them to an old wooden door—the marker of the first corridor they had to pass through. The door was blocked by moonshroom roots stretching along its frame. Anoby cleared the roots with a single pull of his pipe, opening a deeper dark space. Beyond the door, a slick and narrow root corridor greeted them. Hina lifted the lantern higher, sweeping away the shadows of roots covering the corridor's ceiling.
"In old tales, this corridor misleads travelers," said Hina as she walked in. "But the moonshroom roots seem to guide us downward."
Anoby nodded, adjusting the lantern's position so its light wouldn't be obstructed. "Follow me," he said. He stepped slowly, feeling each droplet of water dripping from the roots onto the stone surface. The shadows of the roots shifted slowly when seen from the lantern's angle, making the corridor walls seem alive.
The corridor twisted several times before descending into a lower chamber. Narrow stone steps were carved from roots forming a natural bridge. Each step echoed, signaling the depth beneath their feet. Hina held her breath as she descended each step, avoiding the slippery surfaces. "These roots are slick," she murmured. "Turns out the Keeper of the Time Knots truly tests our nerve."
Anoby helped Hina with one arm, steadying her waist to prevent slipping. "Slowly. We've come far," he whispered.
Upon reaching the bottom of the corridor, the space before them opened slightly—the ceiling was high and filled with glowing purple moonshroom roots. The ground felt damper here, the scent of rusty iron and moonshrooms floated in the air. Hina wiped her face, looking at Anoby. "This is getting more intense," she said. "But I don't want to turn back."
Anoby patted Hina's shoulder. "Same. We're at the threshold of the next door. Let's keep going."
Encounter with the Mechanical Shadows
They walked through the narrow corridor until they found the first room after the stairs: the stone floor here was cracked with fine fissures. On its surface grew thick green moss reflecting the lantern light. The walls were slick, warm water dripping like sweat from inside the rock. Hina approached the right wall and found a round stone disk half-submerged in moss—its carving resembled a moonshroom bound by large roots.
"We have to turn this disk," she said, brushing off the thin moss from its surface. Anoby took his iron pipe and placed the end on the side of the disk. Together, they turned it clockwise. The scraping sound of shifting stone filled the room as a wall in one corner slowly slid open, revealing a deeper corridor. The smell of wet earth shifted to a sharp aroma—like iron mixed with the aura of moonshrooms—sharpening their sense of alertness.
In the next corridor, the floor stones moved mechanically. Anoby and Hina realized it was a trap: rows of stone blocks emerged as if waiting for a wrong step. Hina held her breath, her eyes scanning the crack patterns on the stones—there were fine lines resembling roots guiding them to certain blocks.
"Follow the root pattern," she said, pointing at the floor cracks. Anoby nodded, gripping the iron pipe tighter. He stepped forward, treading each block carefully. Every step made a soft echo until they reached the end of the corridor without a misstep. Their breath was ragged, but their eyes sparkled with satisfaction.
But before they could rest, a long shadow darted past the lantern's edge: three humanoid figures, bodies like thick liquid, eyes like small red glimmers. These shadow beings—rare entities that emerged in the deepest corridors—attacked from three directions at once. Anoby froze for a moment, recognizing them as collective shadows he had once seen in the corridors. Without hesitation, he raised the lantern higher, the bronze light piercing through, and all three backed off slightly.
"Face them!" Hina shouted, her index finger wrapped in a dimly glowing banyan root charm. She struck the floor, growing black roots that shot out, binding the legs of one shadow. It howled, then melted like mist. The second shadow spun quickly around Hina, trying to embrace her, but she swung her small blade, slicing through the encircling mist. The shadow crashed against the wall, slowly fading.
The third shadow tried to pierce Anoby's body, but the raised lantern held it back. Anoby bent his knees, twisted his body, and struck the shadow with a kick—crushing the thick entity until it dripped onto the root-covered floor. Once all shadows vanished, the corridor fell silent again, only their heavy breaths echoing in the damp air.
Trace of Hidden Shadows
After the battle, Anoby stood in silence among the remains of the mist. For a moment behind the black cloth over his face, he felt a faint flicker of gentleness that reminded him of someone from long ago—someone who once saved him in darkness. But the memory faded behind the wet roots. The past slowly sank, making room for the next steps.
Hina held Anoby's arm, looking at him gently. "Are you alright?" she asked softly.
Anoby nodded deeply. "Yes. Just a faint memory. Let's continue."
They left the mechanical corridor, stepping forward to the third chamber that awaited.
The Third Corridor and the Pillar of Peace
The third corridor welcomed them with a round-shaped room. In the center stood a stone pillar two fathoms high, surrounded by channels filled with dark water, like thick ink. The pillar was adorned with carvings of moonshrooms and large winding roots, emanating a magical aura that was both calming and tense. Atop the pillar, a hollow awaited a crystal—but only dried moonshroom and some Green Araklin moss were available.
Hina looked at the pillar with great focus. "It seems we need to activate this pillar," she murmured. She took out a piece of moonshroom, placing it in the hollow, then arranged the moss in the pillar's channels. Before that, she held her banyan root charm—the ward against shadows—in her palm. "For our safety," she whispered, placing the root and moss along the pillar's channels.
Anoby lit the lantern by the pillar's side, casting soft light on the stone walls. Slowly, the glow of the moonshroom and moss activated—emitting a soft shimmer dancing on the water's surface. A rustling sound emerged, as if the pillar awakened from a long slumber. Hina closed her eyes, praying their strength be guarded by the Full Moon Light.
Suddenly, the water in the channel around the pillar pulsed: the dark liquid spun, forming a vortex toward the pillar. Flashes of light seeped into the walls, revealing hidden root carvings—signals of a secret mechanism. Behind the pillar, a hidden stone door slowly opened, groaning as if it hadn't been touched for centuries.
Anoby and Hina simply stood, watching the pillar reflect soft light on their faces: that light didn't only dispel the darkness of the third chamber, but also revived the dried moss on the roots. The room came alive again—each dewdrop and light stroke giving breath to the forest locked in time.
Opening a New Path
They stepped through the stone door, arriving at the next root corridor. Moonshroom roots hung from the ceiling, covering part of the path so their lantern only provided faint light. Hina spread the scent of wisteria to calm their breathing, while Anoby led their steps forward. Each inhale in the corridor felt like resisting the dark.
They reached a shoulder-height wooden door, time-worn cracks making it look fragile but still sturdy. A crescent star carving at its center reflected the moonlight piercing through the trees. Anoby approached and pressed his iron pipe against the carving, then the door slowly shifted, revealing a round room with a white marble floor.
At the center of the room, a crystal lamp stood atop a white altar. Its gentle light pulsed slowly, reflecting off walls adorned with wisteria flowers and crescent moons. The room felt peaceful—as if offering rest for a weary soul.
Hina approached, placing the moonshroom and moss on the altar. "This is the Full Moon Light," she whispered. "With it, we can restore the villagers' memories."
Anoby stood beside Hina, looking at the crystal lamp. He lifted the lantern, creating glimmers on the marble surface. "Let's do it together," he said.
Hina lit the dried moonshroom above her head, then scattered it beside the crystal lamp. Purple and white light blended, forming gentle flashes that seeped into the walls, showing faint faces dancing on the marble—old memories of villagers once lost. Laughter, whispers, even sobs were heard briefly, as if they emerged to deliver once-buried messages.
Hina bowed, holding back tears. "They've returned," she said. "All that was lost now lives again."
Anoby looked at the marble wall, watching glimpses of faces he once met in the village. "Now they can smile again," he said softly.
Hina nodded, then lowered her head. "But we must leave soon. The shadows of time may strike at any moment."
They turned and descended the stone stairs, following the corridor leading to the Guardian Shadow Statue of the Third Room. Each step felt lighter—as if a decade's burden had lifted.
Return to the Surface
When Anoby and Hina arrived back at the hexagonal room, the crystal lamp on the altar had gone out—as if its mission was complete. The glow of moonshroom roots dimmed, and the small water pool returned to calm. Hina lifted a bowl of clear water from the pool, placing it at the corridor's edge. A few small candles waited to be left behind.
Anoby lit the lantern, then looked toward the corridor beside the Third Guardian Shadow Statue. The butterfly root door had shut tight, marking the flow of shadows had ended. "Let's go home," he murmured.
Hina lifted the remaining moonshroom roots—a keepsake as proof the Full Moon Light had once lived in that room. "I'll care for these in the village," she said. "So no new Wielder will appear."
Anoby nodded. "We've completed our task here. Time to return."
They stepped along the root corridor toward the wooden exit door. Moonlight reflected off the roots lining the path, accompanying their steps. As the door opened, the night air welcomed them—as if announcing that the white flower meadow above awaited.
Hina looked at the flower field with teary eyes. "Farewell, Land of Shadows," she murmured.
Anoby grasped Hina's arm, gazing at the sky breaking through the clouds. "We're going home," Anoby said gently.
They stepped down through the root cleft to the surface. The wet earth and black leaves under the moonlight felt warmer. The scent of pine and wisteria filled the air—a symbol of balance after darkness.
In the distance, the lights of Rhumal Village twinkled softly, forming a line of light on the horizon. The villagers were preparing to welcome the Full Moon Light—they would remember the past again. Anoby and Hina walked together, leaving the root shadows behind, ready to face the new day to come.
And that night, the world breathed easier again: one wound of time sealed tightly, and the light of hope slowly spread—keeping memory alive.