Chapter 41

Minos

There was silence in Whispering Woods. The air hung still, dense with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, as if the forest itself were holding its breath. Shafts of soft, golden light filtered through the canopy, dappling the ground in fleeting patterns. However, it wasn’t an unpleasant silence, but a natural state one could find within an ancient forest. The hush was almost reverent, like the quiet inside a sacred temple, broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves as the wind stirred them, sometimes the distant, melodic calls of birds, or the sudden, fleeting scurry of small creatures weaving through the underbrush. These sounds, subtle and fleeting, seemed to weave together a living symphony of the woods. Nevertheless, the whole atmosphere gave a sense of peace — a fragile, tender stillness that wrapped around the clearing like an old, familiar blanket.

In the middle of one of the clearings, on a moss-covered boulder that seemed to pulse faintly with the memory of countless seasons, sat a young Tauros. The stone was cool beneath him, its surface uneven but softened by patches of green moss. The air around him was crisp, yet tinged with the faint warmth of late sunlight streaming through the treetops. He loved coming here and often spent hours immersed in the forest’s atmosphere, letting the whispering leaves and the subtle shifts of energy lull him into a quiet, contemplative state. Like most Tauri, he wasn’t very sociable — his nature drew him inward, toward solitude and the embrace of nature’s presence. He liked to spend time alone, surrounded by the soft breath of the forest, the scent of damp bark, the subtle crackle of twigs beneath unseen paws, the balance and fullness of life that seemed to hum in the air. It soothed something deep within him, a quiet resonance that settled like a weight in his chest.

He sighed, a slow exhale that seemed to dissolve into the stillness, glanced around the clearing one last time, as if trying to imprint the moment onto his memory, and stood up, his steps gentle on the mossy ground as he prepared to head back home. His movements were reluctant, as though leaving this place felt like breaking a fragile connection.

When he was already close, the familiar sounds of the forest shifted slightly, and he noticed Zoia, his peer. The sight of her caught him off guard, a brief jolt in the quiet rhythm of his day.
— Hey! — he called out, his voice carrying through the trees, startling a bird into flight.
— Hey, King — she replied, a teasing lilt in her tone, her smile small but noticeable.

He hated that nickname. Every time he heard it, a flicker of irritation sparked within him — a knot of frustration that tightened in his chest. But he knew there was nothing he could do about it — it had probably stuck to him for good. The weight of the name pressed on him like an unwanted crown. He couldn’t hide his resentment toward his parents for playing such a prank on him by giving him the name Minos. It gnawed at him, an ache that never quite faded. Because of this, every time he introduced himself to someone unfamiliar, he had to say:
— Hello, I’m Minos, a Tauros.

The words always tasted awkward on his tongue, a bitter reminder of the burden he carried. Of course, this always sparked associations with their progenitor, the Minotaur (Minotauros, as it was in original), who was very often called the King in their community. The label followed him like a shadow, whispered behind his back, half in jest, half in expectation.

He had spoken with his parents many times about this — why they named him that way. The question lingered between them, unanswered in any way that truly satisfied him. But he always received the same answer:
— It’s because you are destined for something very important.

The words, meant to comfort, only left him feeling more alienated, as if they had given him a weight he didn’t know how to bear.

Irritated, he entered the house, the familiar creak of the wooden floor greeting him, and muttered something under his breath in response to his mother’s cheerful greeting. His voice was a low grumble, barely audible, but laced with frustration.

— And what’s got you in such a mood? — she asked, her brow furrowed in concern. — Did someone bother you again?

Her voice was soft, but there was a hint of knowing in her eyes, as if she had seen this coming.

— I really can’t understand… How could you give me such a name?

The words burst out of him before he could stop them, a bitter mix of exasperation and years of unspoken resentment.

— I’ve explained it to you so many times…

Her reply came with a sigh, a weary note in her voice, as if this conversation had been replayed too many times before.

— Yeah, yeah, I know. Big things, those matters… And what do I get out of it? Right now, the only big thing in my life is the boulder I sit on every day to think.

His voice trembled slightly, the weight of his frustration pressing down on him like a heavy cloak.

— Minos, it’s not like I just made something up. When I was still carrying you under my heart, the forest whispered a secret to me.

Her tone softened, becoming distant, as if the memory of that moment still lingered in her mind like a half-forgotten dream.

— It told me that during my lifetime, the balance — of both the forest and all of Amaltea — would be threatened. It also whispered to me that my son would have his part in restoring that balance.

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, as if they had been etched into the very fibers of the room.

— You know how important balance is to the entire Tauri race. It’s the meaning of our life, our essence. So don’t be surprised that because of this, I couldn’t give you an ordinary, average name.

Her eyes glistened faintly, as if she had carried this truth in her heart for too long, the weight of it both a burden and a gift.

— Ugh, I know, I know… But it still annoys me how they call me King, laughing under their breath.

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor, then added:

— I don’t want to feed your illusions, but I must admit that… lately, I’ve noticed something unsettling in the forest.

His voice grew quieter, a flicker of worry flashing across his face.

— I have the impression that in place of the previous balance, which was like still water, something has crept in.

The words came haltingly, as if he were piecing them together from scattered thoughts.

— Small currents of both increased and decreased energy are appearing.

He ran a hand through his hair, the weight of what he was saying sinking in.

— There are places that seem very poorly protected by the usual magic, and at the same time, a place has appeared that radiates some immense, but so far unknown, force.

He swallowed hard, his fingers curling into his palms as he spoke, feeling the strange energy swirl in the air, elusive and unsettling.

— However, I can’t pinpoint exactly where it is. I feel that whenever I try to focus on the flow of energy to sense the source of the disturbance in balance, something distracts me.

His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing with frustration.

— And the more I try to focus on it, the more disoriented I become, and in the end, my head starts to hurt.

His voice trailed off, leaving a heavy silence between them.

— Minos, if what you say is true, this is a serious matter. Have you already spoken to someone about it?

Her tone was calm, but a hint of worry seeped through.

— No, because I wasn’t completely sure about my feelings.

Minos’s shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of uncertainty pulling him down.

— But I have the impression that day by day, it’s all intensifying, and the balance is getting more and more disturbed.

His voice was laced with quiet dread, the fear of something larger than himself creeping in.

— Well, I believe you. Especially since you have always been particularly sensitive to the balance of energy flow in the surrounding world.

Her voice was warm but tinged with gravity, as if she too could feel the shift in the air.

— Okay… So, what do you think I should do?

His question hung in the air, heavy with a quiet desperation.

— Maybe talk to one of the school’s representatives? After all, it’s their task — not just managing but also taking care of the whole Amaltea.

Her suggestion was practical, but her gaze lingered on him, filled with a mix of hope and worry.

— Right, but what am I supposed to tell them? It’s so intangible… Hard to point to something specific.

His voice was soft, almost resigned, as if he already knew the answer wouldn’t satisfy him.

— Hmm… Maybe you’re right. They might think you’re being oversensitive or making things up. But something has to be done. Go, seek advice from the Elder.

Her voice held a quiet conviction, a belief that even in uncertainty, action was better than silence.

— Alright, I’ll go there tomorrow.

The words fell like a quiet promise, hanging in the air as if they carried more weight than he realized.

The next day, in the morning, Minos set out for the edge of Whispering Woods, where the Elder lived. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a pale golden light that filtered through the tangled branches overhead. The forest seemed to hold its breath in anticipation, its ancient trees rising like silent sentinels, their bark dark and gnarled with age. The air was crisp, scented with damp moss and the faint tang of pine resin. Each step Minos took was cushioned by the soft carpet of fallen leaves and needles, and the faint rustle of his movements seemed almost swallowed by the vast stillness surrounding him.

He found him — as usual — sitting under a sprawling plane tree. The Elder sat cross-legged, his robes draping around him like a pool of fabric, his eyes closed in serene concentration. The great tree’s wide branches arched protectively overhead, the leaves whispering softly in the morning breeze. Around them, the light dappled through in shifting patterns, playing on the Elder’s weathered skin and the worn wood of the tree’s roots, which twisted and curled across the ground like ancient veins of the earth.

Since it wasn’t his first visit, he already knew the procedure. A quiet familiarity settled over him, a sense of stepping into a space where words were unnecessary, where meaning flowed in the silences between. So he sat down opposite and immersed himself in meditation, completely quieting his mind. The sounds of the forest faded into the background — the distant rustle of branches, the occasional crack of a twig, the soft, almost imperceptible hum of energy that seemed to pulse beneath the surface of the woods. His breathing slowed, his heartbeat softened, and he let go of the tension coiled within his chest, allowing the deep stillness of the forest to settle into him like a second skin.

After some time, when he clearly felt the tuning, a quiet, almost imperceptible shift in the air, the Elder spoke. His voice, though soft, carried a quiet weight, like the creak of an old tree swaying in the wind.

— Greetings, Minos. What brings you here?

Minos told him the same thing he had told his mother the day before. As he spoke, his words felt heavy, as if each one were being laid gently on the ground between them, waiting to be acknowledged. The Elder listened to him attentively, his eyes half-lidded, his face still as a carved figure, save for the occasional subtle movement — a faint furrowing of his brow, a slow, steady breath.

Then he sank into his meditative state once more. His posture remained unchanged, but there was a subtle shift in the air around him, as though the very energy of the forest had gathered, focusing around the Elder’s presence. The young Tauros knew that now he simply had to wait to receive any answer. A faint breeze stirred the leaves above, whispering through the branches in a language older than words, and Minos felt it brush across his skin like a cool, fleeting touch.

Fortunately, contrary to popular belief, the Tauri were capable of great patience. He sat in stillness, his thoughts circling quietly — the weight of his questions, the nagging uncertainty, the dull ache of unspoken fears. The forest seemed to lean in around them, silent but watchful, as if holding its breath alongside him.

After some time, the Elder spoke, his voice slow, deliberate, each word measured like the steady toll of a distant bell.

— What you’re saying is indeed troubling, and it’s not unlikely that it has more to do with you than you think.

Minos’s chest tightened, a flicker of frustration stirring beneath the calm exterior.

— You’re not referring to the whispers of the forest to my mother, are you? — he asked, irritated. His voice sharpened slightly, the tension slipping into his words like a sudden gust through the leaves.

— I’m afraid I am, unfortunately…

The Elder’s voice was low, laced with quiet resignation. He paused for a moment, and the silence that followed seemed to stretch endlessly, filled only by the soft creak of the branches overhead and the faint chirr of insects hidden in the underbrush. Then he added, with a gravity that seemed to settle over them like a thick mist:

— However, I think we need further clues on what to do because we can’t just wait idly for the balance to be disturbed even more.

His gaze grew distant, as if he were seeing beyond the immediate world, and his voice softened with a note of concern:

— Even though I’m not as sensitive as you, I too have felt that something is starting to go wrong.

The words sank into Minos like stones dropped into a still pond, sending ripples through the quiet steadiness he had tried to maintain. A knot of unease twisted in his stomach.

Moreover, I’ve recently been told that on the edge of the forest, right near the barrier, a completely withered, dead tree has been spotted.

Minos felt a chill race down his spine. His breath caught, and the air seemed to thin around him, the forest holding an uneasy hush.

— Impossible! — Minos exclaimed. — Such a thing has never happened before!

His voice rang out sharp, almost disbelieving, cutting through the calm like a sudden crack of thunder. His heart pounded in his chest, and a prickle of dread bloomed beneath his skin.

— You’re right. And that’s precisely what’s most troubling.

The Elder’s tone was low, almost a murmur, but the weight of his words was undeniable. It settled over Minos like a heavy cloak, the air around them growing colder, heavier, as if the forest itself had shuddered at the revelation.

— So, what should I do?

The question slipped out, hushed and breathless, barely louder than the whisper of the wind through the leaves. It felt fragile, as if it might vanish into the air before it was answered.

— I think you should go to Crystal Peaks and touch the Heart Crystal. Maybe it will bestow its grace upon you and reveal the next path. Let’s hope it leads you to some kind of solution or further guidance.

The words hung in the air like an invocation, resonating in the quiet space between them, and for a long moment, all Minos could hear was the faint rustle of leaves, the distant call of a bird, and the slow, steady beat of his own heart.

After returning home, Minos told his mother about the entire meeting. The walls of their home seemed to close in around him as he recounted the events, the familiar space now carrying a faint tension, as if the shadows themselves listened.

— So, what do you intend to do? — she asked, her voice soft but edged with worry, eyes searching his face for answers he wasn’t sure he could give.

— Exactly what the Elder said. I’m going to Crystal Peaks, and I’ll count on a stroke of luck that the Heart Crystal will help me.

His voice trembled slightly, a mixture of uncertainty and quiet determination threading through the words.

— Good. It seems like the best thing to do right now.

Her tone was steady, but Minos could sense the flicker of hope and concern that wove beneath her words like an undercurrent, unspoken but deeply felt.

The next day, after breakfast, he set out on his journey and reached the snow-covered peaks fairly quickly. The air was crisp and sharp, filled with the clean, biting scent of snow and ice. His boots crunched over the hard, frozen ground as he climbed higher, the silence broken only by the distant whisper of the wind weaving through jagged rocks. The peaks stretched around him like a kingdom of ancient, sleeping giants, their white mantles gleaming under the pale sunlight. The sky above was a pale, washed-out blue, streaked with thin, wispy clouds, and the cold seemed to seep into his bones, wrapping around him like a ghostly embrace. Every breath he took sent small puffs of mist into the air, dissipating quickly in the biting cold.

The mysterious artifact was visible from afar — a beautiful piece of crystal shaped like a massive heart. It shimmered in the distance, catching the light in a way that made it seem almost ethereal, as if it were a fragment of another world. The closer he got, the more it seemed to pulse with a faint, steady rhythm, like the heartbeat of the mountain itself.

It radiated power and strength — it felt as if it were a real, living, beating heart. The sensation was so intense it made the hairs on his arms stand on end, and he felt a deep, almost primal pull in his chest, as if some unseen force were tugging at him, urging him closer. He was totally infatuated by the view and felt dragged to it. The sight of the crystal held him spellbound, like a moth drawn helplessly to a flame. He was almost like in trance from just the view. His breath caught in his throat, and for a few moments, he simply stared, frozen in place, his pulse quickening in his ears.

But then, doubts overwhelmed him: What am I even doing? What am I looking for here? What am I really hoping for? Do I seriously think that someone as ordinary as me could get any answers from ancient magic? The questions circled in his mind like a dark cloud, whispering of his smallness, his insignificance in the grand scheme of things. The weight of uncertainty settled heavily on his shoulders, and for a brief moment, he felt like turning back, the sharp cold a reminder of how alone he truly was in that vast, unforgiving landscape.

However, he pulled himself together and approached the crystal. The snow crunched beneath his boots, each step a quiet act of defiance against his own hesitation. He owned that to himself. And to his people, believing his mother words. The words echoed in his mind, a soft yet insistent whisper urging him forward, and he clenched his fists to steady the trembling in his hands.

With a trembling heart, he reached out his hand and touched surface of the heart. His fingertips hovered for a moment, the space between skin and crystal humming with a strange, electric tension.

One might think the crystal would feel cold to the touch, but in reality, it was very warm — it felt as if he were touching living flesh. The warmth seeped into his skin, radiating outward in gentle pulses that seemed to sync with the quiet beating of his own heart. It was a strange, almost disorienting sensation — comforting yet unnerving, as if the boundary between himself and the crystal had blurred.

For a moment, nothing happened. Time seemed to stretch thin, the silence deepening into something so complete it almost rang in his ears. The wind held its breath, and even the faint shifting of snow seemed to pause. But then Minos noticed that something was beginning to stir inside the heart.

At first, he saw a blue glow, which gradually grew more and more intense. It flickered like a distant star, then swelled, brightening until it flooded the crystal’s surface with a soft, almost liquid light. Shadows danced across his face, and the reflection of the glow shimmered in his wide eyes, filling them with a quiet awe.

Well… — he thought — so far, this isn’t telling me much. His thoughts felt slow and heavy, like they were wading through molasses, the glow holding his gaze in a trance-like pull.

But the vision wasn’t over yet. From within the blue light, a face slowly began to emerge. Bit by bit clearer with every breath — the face of a young man. Handsome with shoulder-length dark brown hair and intensely blue eyes. The features sharpened, framed by the glow, like a memory forming in the air itself.

The face inside the crystal looked straight at Minos, staring deeper and deeper into his eyes. The gaze was so intense it seemed to pierce through the layers of thought and feeling, reaching into something he couldn’t name, something raw and hidden deep inside him. And then smiled. It was a pleasant, warm smile of a friend someone could have. A smile that felt like sunlight after a long winter, gentle and unassuming, but carrying a quiet promise of understanding.

Then everything was enveloped in mist, and the entire vision disappeared. The blue glow faded into a soft blur, swallowed by the swirling haze, leaving only a faint warmth on Minos’s skin.

For a moment Minos stood there still, in silence. His breath fogged in the cold air, and his heartbeat echoed loudly in his ears, a steady, grounding drumbeat. His body felt rooted to the earth, as if the crystal’s warmth still lingered in his palm, a subtle pulse reminding him of what had just transpired.

Then, slowly, surrounding world started to came back to him. The crisp air filled his lungs, the cold pricking at his skin like tiny needles, and the distant sound of wind whispering through the peaks drifted back into his awareness. Gradually he became more and more aware of the place and its energy. The mountains loomed around him, silent and ancient, their towering presence both comforting and humbling.

And right then he noticed something. In usually still and peaceful energy around him, he felt fluctuations. The air seemed to shiver faintly, as if the very fabric of the place had shifted, subtle vibrations brushing against his senses. Slight, gentle, but definitely present. It was like the faint ripple of a pond disturbed by an unseen hand, a quiet warning that something had changed.

After focusing on the phenomena he recognised that it’s similar to what’s happening in Whispering Woods. Maybe not so strong. But he felt in his guts, that it wasn’t so strong yet. The thought sat heavy in his chest, a knot of quiet dread forming in his stomach.

Although there was some difference between here and there. In Crystal Peaks he couldn’t felt currents of this new, strong energy. Only places and strings of weakened usual magic. The realization settled into him like a cold weight, his breath catching in his throat, and a faint sense of unease coiled in the pit of his stomach.