As Lorian reached the end of the trials, he found himself in a state he hadn't expected. The exhaustion in his body merged with the weight in his mind. The mountain peak still stood ahead, an elusive goal, but he could feel that reaching the summit was no longer the only matter at hand. What he had sought at the beginning of this journey—was it truly the same as what he was searching for now?
The paths had narrowed, and the air had grown colder. The sun still shone in the sky, but the wind carried whispers from the heights. These were not the same whispers he had grown accustomed to hearing after completing his trials.
At that moment, he noticed someone sitting on a rock ahead. A white beard swayed gently in the wind, and though the figure's back was slightly hunched, there was still strength in his posture.
Lorian recognized the man. Ravan the Wanderer.
The first time they had met, Ravan had told him, "Every journey comes with a cost." Lorian had taken those words seriously, but now, at this point in his journey, seeing the same man again filled him with a strange feeling. What was he doing here? Had he been waiting for him?
Lorian slowly approached.
Without lifting his head, Ravan spoke. "If you're not just going to stand there, sit."
Lorian hesitated but sat down across from him. For a while, neither of them spoke. Silence moved between the rocks like the wind, heavy and meaningful.
Finally, Lorian broke the quiet.
"I didn't expect to see you again."
Ravan opened his eyes and studied Lorian's face for a long moment. It was not the look of a wise man gazing at his student. It was the look of someone trying to solve a riddle.
"Did you really not?" he asked.
Lorian searched for meaning in those words.
Ravan continued, "You think you've passed your trials."
Lorian frowned. There was doubt in that statement.
"Haven't I?" he asked.
Ravan shook his head. "That's not for me to say. But do you know?"
That question unsettled Lorian. He had overcome the trials. He had conquered each one with his own strength and will. And yet…
Why had he still not reached the summit?
Was it truly over?
Ravan picked up a small stone and rolled it between his fingers.
"Do you remember why you started?" he asked.
Lorian didn't answer immediately. He had wanted to reach the summit. But why? Power? Wisdom? Freedom?
Did he even know anymore?
At that moment, he replayed every struggle in his mind.
The moments when his body was tested…
The traps that forced his mind to adapt…
The darkness within himself that he had battled…
Each of them had pushed him forward. But none had truly told him why he was here.
Lorian hesitated. This realization settled on him like a heavy weight.
Ravan watched him, as if he had expected this moment.
"That is why you are here," he said.
Lorian clenched his fists. "If I am still being tested, then what kind of trial is this?"
Ravan chuckled softly. "One that no one else can give you."
Lorian considered those words. His previous trials had been difficult, but they had all been tangible. He had fought, resisted, or endured. But now?
Now, he had to face himself.
What was he truly searching for?
He didn't know what awaited him at the peak. But something far more important was unclear—what did he want to find when he got there?
Ravan slowly stood up. Placing a hand on Lorian's shoulder, he said, "The summit only accepts those who are ready to reach it."
"But going there without knowing what you seek… that is the greatest mistake of all."
Then, the wind rose once more.
But this time, it did not guide him.
This time, it waited for Lorian to choose his own path.