chapter 76: Echoes of destiny

In the ebb and flow of routine, Timothy's eagerness to delve into the deep reaching its zenith. Days elapsed, each marked by disciplined training sessions that etched strength and agility into the canvas of his body , the tranquility of night unveiled itself as a sanctum dedicated to the delicate nurturing of a burgeoning soul seed—a testament to the commendable growth marked in the ledger of time.And on the other side he too was studying  non elemental rune spells. Runic mastery presented itself in dual dominions.

Within the dual dominions of runic spell mastery lay the non-elemental and the elemental spells, each unfolding its unique symphony. The former, a common ground for all Konquerors, albeit resonating with diminished potency, and the latter, a meticulous dance attuned to specific elements. for example  a water elemental konqueror could not use a fire elemental rune spell . These spells are empowered by the element of that said konqueror  , to simply put it if you are not attuned to the earth element  then you would  never use an earth spell , but that was not the case for rune poets.For Timothy, the possessor of an enigmatic, unknown element, this journey bore the weighty mantle of crafting runes from the ethereal loom—an odyssey demanding an artisan's precision. Being a wielder of an unknown element the problems lies in the fact that since it is an unknown element then there amount of elemental rune spells available for that said element are zero.truly unfortunate, and timothy was one of those unfortunate people .

The elusive aura surrounding unknown elements bestowed a dual-edged gift upon their wielder—a latent advantage veiled in mystery. Yet, with this boon came the onus of crafting rune spells ex nihilo, unraveling threads of arcane artistry. Timothy, cognizant of his unique position, ardently devoted his focus to the mastery of non-elemental spells, forging an arsenal designed to amplify his prowess on the battlefield.

His arcane element, an intangible weave echoing with the symphonies of sound, thrust Timothy into an unwitting role as a discerning scout among the blades. This gift, an enigmatic bond with auditory realms, began to unveil its secrets, providing glimpses of potential far beyond the confines of mundane perception. The finesse of predicting adversaries' movements through the subtle notes of their physicality became Timothy's forte.

However, the limits of such prescience became apparent when faced with adversaries of formidable stature, transcending the constraints of mere predictive ability. In the quiet sanctuary of his quarters, Timothy embarked on a contemplative odyssey.

In the present moment, Timothy found himself in his room, gaze fixated upon the ceiling. The passage of time had created a hiatus in his journeys to the ethereal staircase within the void. Contemplative and aware, Timothy murmured thrice, as if invoking a mystic incantation: "void... void... void, appear."

Timothy had almost forgotten that he had another bond besides Sebrina , void .

A brief interlude unfolded in the stillness of Timothy's room. The invocation echoed within the chamber, a celestial whisper seeking manifestation. Suddenly, the ethereal veil parted, and a Pegasus crafted from the very fabric of darkness descended, its wings elusive, form diminished.

Timothy, ever the inquirer, scrutinized the spectral equine and queried, "Hey, why are you smaller?" Void, embodying the gleeful essence of his spectral form, danced around the room before imparting his insight.

"Master, your world constricts my form. As long as I dwell here, this shall be my visage. Yet, should your strength burgeon, these shackles may well release," Void elucidated, his ethereal voice resonating with hints of cosmic wisdom.

In the room's twilight dance, the little fox stirred from its slumber beside Timothy. Blinking away sleep, it beheld the ethereal manifestation of Void, its reaction more theatrical than Timothys'. Startled, the fox leaped backward, landing unceremoniously on Timothy's face.

"GET OFF OF ME, YOU LITTLE MISCREANT!" Timothy expelled the fox with a swift motion. The little creature, brimming with defiance, bared its fangs. In retort, Timothy launched his sheathed sword toward the nimble fox.

"Are you trying to kill me, you gray-haired bastard?" The fox's evasion was swift, the dance between predator and prey unfolding.

"Maybe I am!" Timothy's retort echoed, and a tense impasse held between the two, eyes locked in a silent challenge. Yet, this duet of animosity found reprieve as Void intervened with an inquiry that cut through the tension.

"Master, why do you keep a soul devourer as a pet?" Void's question, voiced with ethereal curiosity, penetrated the space, provoking contemplation.

"I am babysitting him for his master," Timothy confessed with a weary sigh, acknowledging the peculiar presence of the little fox. His gaze shifted back to Void, questioning and seeking answers.

"How did you know he is a soul devourer?" Timothy inquired, suspicion veiled in his eyes. Void, attuned to his master's unease, proceeded to share fragments of his unique predicament. Memories of various lifetimes, consistently concluding with his selfless sacrifice to protect a specific individual, defined Void's existence. Timothy, despite the otherworldly nature of the revelation, nodded in a gesture of understanding.

"I believe you have lived countless lives before as my companion... I still do not know how to explain it, but the only thing I can think of is reincarnation," Timothy offered an interpretation of the mystical connection between them. The little fox, incapable of comprehending the intricacies of their conversation, broke the brief silence by drawing their attention.

"Have you gone senile? Why are you even in close proximity with that thing?" the little fox questioned, exhibiting its disdain toward Void. Void, disapproving of being referred to as a mere "thing," swiftly retorted, "My name is Void, not 'thing.'"

"And I'm not a fu-" the little fox's sentence was abruptly cut off by a dagger hurled in its direction. Dodging the projectile, it shot a glare filled with resentment at Timothy, demanding an explanation. "What was that for?" the fox queried through gritted teeth.

"Do not disrespect my bond," Timothy declared, emphasizing the sanctity of the connection he shared with Void.

" I can be your bond too," the little fox snapped back, attempting to challenge Timothy. This assertion, however, only elicited laughter from Timothy. "Yeah right. The first thing you did after meeting me was try to devour my soul, so no thanks," Timothy retorted with a grin.

The little wolf, unable to find a fitting response, transformed into a young man and exited the room. Timothy, rolling his eyes at the dramatic exit, turned his attention to Void. To his surprise, Void stared at him with concern.

" Master are you okay? You seem a little on edge." Void asked and Timothy  merely nodded deciding not to answer . Void's words had just made him realize  something  , his emotions were all over the place. He had to tell his master about this. But first  , " void you may return   I will summon you again.  Right now I need to find the little fox " Timothy left the room in a hurry . Finding  a shape-shifter was not easy , especially if the shape shifter did not want to be found .

" Wyrd's network serves as a reminder that the actions of the past affect the present and that the present actions affect the future. All timelines are strictly interconnected.All the actions carried out are woven into the Wyrd network, at the same time they are carried out, the consequences of these actions are connected with everything else. There is no act that has no effect, even doing nothing has an impact on life. Through this network, all people are connected. It is considered that Wyrd's threads do not represent an incontrovertible destiny, since they are generated only at the moment we do the things we do." These words were now starting to make sense to Timothy as he was hopelessly search for the little  fox  . Destiny had intricately woven their paths together, and Timothy, despite the challenges and uncertainties, chose not to resist the cosmic forces at play. He understood that there was a reason for their meeting, and he wasn't inclined to fight against destiny at this moment.

"Damnit, Mi'tur, what have you done?" Timothy reprimanded himself, consumed by guilt and confusion. While immersed in his futile search for the little fox, a man in white robes adorned with silver approached him. One of his eyes was covered by a cloth, and he held a disappointed-looking boy by the scruff of his neck. Timothy's eyes widened with joy as he recognized the boy – the little fox.

Approaching Timothy with a smile, the elderly man inquired, "I believe you are looking for him?"