Path of Origin

"See here, I've discovered all the symbols that represent me," Emric exclaims with excitement. "This one stands for E, R, I, and that one represents a C. And look, that one is particularly unique." Emric gently points to a vibrant butterfly. "It's the ancestral symbol of our family, the triple bridge. My name is written with an nm, but the n is silent, so only those who have seen it written in the ancient scripts know." Son nods, though his understanding is limited since he recently learned how to write and his grammar knowledge is still basic. However, he trusts Emric's explanation. "If you were to try using my name here, the gate would remain closed to you," Emric continues. He spins his finger over the butterflies one by one, creating a gentle breeze. They rise slowly, leaving behind a trail of soft dust, each with its own unique color tone. As the last one disappears, the fine powder blends together, forming a captivating mix of colors that seeps into the bark of the world seed. The bark begins to crack, but it happens naturally, as if the fabric is gently splitting apart, creating a natural opening. A few remaining leaves on distant branches sizzle as if in witness of the sprout's pain, and then suddenly, the core of the wood cracks, an unsettling sight to behold. Moss and soil crumble towards the roots, descending deeper into the valley's bottom. From beneath the sprout, a sliding sound emerges, growing louder. Son shakes his head, feeling a hint of panic. "I told you to forget it. I'm not going down there," he whines. Despite Son's resistance, Emric becomes even more determined. "Enough of you," he orders Son indifferently. "Leave me be then. I'm going down. I want to discover what makes that gem of yours so special. I'm tired of your complaining. From now on, I'll go alone."