The Shell
The shell points toward the northwest. The wind is cold, but my heart is warm. The path to the World Tree—the Path of the Wind—is far more treacherous than I had imagined. The mountainside is lined with sheer cliffs; one false step, and I might be cast into the abyss. The ground beneath my feet is a crumbly gravel path, requiring me to tread carefully.
I must have been walking for several hours. The view suddenly opened up, revealing a vast grassland. The grassland was as beautiful as a green carpet, and in the distance, snow-capped mountains stretched out in a row. However, I know that danger lurks behind that beauty. This is the realm of the Wind Spirits.
As I walked across the grassland, a strong wind suddenly began to blow. The wind shook my body, as if it were a living creature. Then, amidst the swirling winds, I spotted a figure. It was a Fūma—a master of the wind. They moved swiftly and freely, as if they were the wind incarnate.
“Well, well, what a rare visitor,” one of the Fūma said with a mocking tone. “This grassland is our domain. I suggest you leave.”
Their words were filled with intimidation. But I could not back down. I was determined to eliminate anything that stood in my way to the World Tree.
“I am heading for the World Tree. Do not interfere,” I replied firmly.
The Fūma glared at me. “The World Tree, huh… How interesting. Well then, let us test your strength.”
They all began manipulating the wind at once. A fierce gale raged, kicking up dust that obscured my vision. I took out the lyre of the Atlantis civilization. This is no longer merely an instrument. It is a sacred instrument that resonates with the energy of the universe and possesses the power to maintain the balance of the world.
I play the lyre. The melody I play is a sacred one that calms the wind spirits. The sound emanating from the lyre spreads across the entire grassland, nullifying the Wind Demons’ attacks. The Wind Demons look at me with expressions of surprise and awe as I play.
However, they do not give up. They manipulate even fiercer winds and repel my attacks. A fierce battle ensues. I alter the harp’s melody, dodging the Wind Demons’ attacks while launching my own counterattacks.
After the fierce battle, the Wind Demons submit to my power. Their eyes are no longer filled with mockery, but with respect.
“We yield to your power,” the leader of the Wind Demons says, bowing his head. “The path to the World Tree has been opened.”
They showed me the path leading deep into the grasslands. The path was beautiful and mysterious, as if enchanted by magic. The path to the World Tree is still far away. Yet, filled with hope, I begin to walk that path. The seashell glows quietly within my chest. It is the guardian of my journey.
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)
