The cliffs of Tieng lay desolate. Above the bloody clouds, was the moon, hanging so low, dejected and lonely in the night sky.
Below it, a solitary figure, cloaked by the shadows, stood at the edge of the cliff. A wide-brimmed hat veiled his face, and behind him, the wind whispered restlessly through the jagged rocks.
Across the chasm, on the opposite cliff, stood the Tree of Power, its red bloom pulsing with untamed light and energy, sacred, ancestral.
It was said that only the true heir of Tieng...… only the chosen could summon the invisible bridge across the void...... Dark and deep, the stairs down the void had vanished, as had the dynasty it once served.
The air was cold and the lone figure shivered despite the cloak draped over hs body.
He didn’t know why he was here.
He didn’t even know his name.
And yet, something stronger than him seemed to pull him in that direction. Inside him stirred—a flicker, like a distant fire from years ago.
Then, the wind changed.
And he heard a voice, gentle and familiar, whisper softly;
“Don’t sweat it, Kaen. Even if you forget, I’ll remember enough for both of us.”
The pilgrim’s head jerked up. Kaen?
The name pierced right through him— through the fog that beclouded his mind. He staggered back, clutching his chest.
“Kaen,” he murmured. “That’s… me.”
Then came the flood of memory.
A memory from twenty years ago.
A crackling fire. A bloody moon like the one above.
A boy, just five, sat beside his father—Tuma of the Tieng line, priest of truth.
“I have to protect Kaen,” Tuma whispered to the flames. “Even if it costs me everything. The bloodline must be preserved.”
They were all that was left of the dynasty of Tieng—advisors, sages, truth-keepers, once honored in the courts of kings, now hunted like prey.
Prince Odyasean who ascended the throne of Aurora, after his father's death, had extended a hand in friendship… and then drawn the blade that slaughtered them, during a feast in their honor, claiming their wisdom for his own.
All but Tuma and his child escaped. The rest lay dead beneath royal marble.
And so, they ran, hiding in shadows, living in silence and obscurity.
For the boy to grow.
Only when Kaen turned twenty-five could he unlock the powers hidden beneath the Tree, only then could the void yield to him, and the Temple open once more.
That night, beneath the moon, Tuma stood slowly.
“We journey to the void at first light, destiny calls.”
But then, hesitating, he added, “If something happens to me—”
“Don’t,” the boy cut in.
Tuma smiled and nudged him playfully. “Don’t sweat it. Just promise me you’ll keep walking.”
Kaen tossed a pebble into the dark. “Nothing will happen to you, papa."
But an attack on their way to the temple, left Tuma dead. And though kaen escaped, the trauma cost him his memory.
The present.
Kaen dropped to his knees, trembling. His heart pounding against memory's weight.
Suddenly, a glow lit the darkness before him, and one stone, suspended In nothingness appeared in the void.
Then another.
And another.
The bridge had begun to return.
“Father…” Kaen whispered, a lump rising in his throat.
He stood.
“I remember now,” he said hoarsely. “I remember you, I remember everything.”
Kaen stepped onto the first stone.
Then the second.
Each footfall summoned another glowing path forward. He felt like his father’s memory was guiding him with every step.
The Tree of Power seemed to exhale, its blossoms blazing red, in recognition. The air thickened, sacred and heavy with a scent and a welcoming song.
Halfway across, Kaen paused.
The path ahead shimmered like a river of fire.
And Kaen moved again.
With steady feet and burning heart, he crossed the final stone and stood beneath the Tree.
Light surged around him. Before him, hidden for two decades, the doors of the Temple opened.
Kaen, the last of the Tieng line.
The high priest of the temple returned.
The dynasty reborn.
By dawn, the blood moon had dissolved into the paleness of the morning.
The bridge was gone.
The cliffs were silent once more.
As if nothing happened
Yet high on the edge, carved into the ancient stone, beneath the Tree, stood the Temple—in all its glory, but hidden from all mortal eyes.
Image generated with AI.
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