The gates of the settlement opened without resistance. A faint scent of blossoms drifted through the air — impossible for a desert night. The village shimmered faintly under the moonlight, every hut glowing with a soft, emerald hue.

It was perfect — and alive.

Jessie looked around, half-dazed. "This can't be real…"

The shorter girl smiled. "Real enough. You're lucky to stumble upon the Oasis."

Ash's critical mind wanted to analyze everything, but the warmth flooding his body dulled his edge.

They were guided toward a small house at the center. It looked more like a temple — it reminded Ash of his previous life. It stood beside a pool of water that mirrored the moonlight like liquid glass.

Jessie's eyes locked on the pool. "That's… actual water."

Ash stayed silent, scanning the horizon. The breeze here carried no sand, no chill — only a heavy, sweet scent of wet earth.

It was an oasis amidst the desert, where greenery and trees sprawled around the pond — a self-sustaining paradise in the midst of desolation.

The people around them looked peaceful, going about their daily chores, free from all worries.

The short-haired girl guided them inside the temple, where they saw an old man sitting cross-legged like a monk.

"Welcome, travelers," the man said. "You've crossed the desert. Few ever reach Nethra's Heart and survive the sands."

His eyes were devoid of emotion — the eyes of an enlightened man detached from worldly desires.

The more Ash observed him, the more he admired the man's simplicity.

"Lyria, take the guests to rest," the man said, closing his eyes.

Then, suddenly, panic flashed across his face as his eyes snapped open.

"You — stop!" he said, looking directly at Jessie.

"Come closer," he ordered, standing up. The calmness on his face twisted into concern.

Jessie hesitated but eventually stepped forward.

His wrinkled hand extended toward her, trembling faintly — caught between reverence and dread.

The moment his palm came close to Jessie's shoulder, the torches inside the temple flickered. A faint emerald glow spread across her arm, crawling up her neck like veins of light.

The old man's pupils constricted.

"…Blessed." His voice broke into a whisper. "You carry the mark."

Jessie blinked, confused. "Mark?"

The man's hand hovered midair — he didn't touch her, but his expression darkened.

"Not a mark of blessing… a mark of selection."

Ash's eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean?"

The monk turned toward him slowly. "She is the most important person in this village from now on. She carries the Blessing."

The warmth that had filled Ash's body moments ago began to fade, replaced by a strange heaviness. The sweet scent in the air now felt almost… intoxicating. His head grew light.

Jessie clutched her arm, the glowing lines dimming. 'What's this bullshit?'

"Lyria, take care of her with utmost respect," the man said, sitting back down.

Ash and Jessie followed Lyria outside. They wanted to question the old man, but that could wait — food and water came first.

Outside, the huts glowed softly under the moonlight. They were arranged in a circle around the oasis, with trees scattered amidst them.

A magnificent tree stood at the center — far larger than any other. Its branches stretched wide, almost covering the entire settlement. It emanated a divine aura — something worthy of worship… or fear.

Ash shook his head, pushing the thoughts away. He instinctively avoided looking directly at the massive tree and followed Lyria to a hut larger than the rest.

Inside, it was a simple living space with a window carved into the wood. A water pot rested in the corner.

Ash rushed to it, gulping down the water slowly, waiting for his body to recover.

Jessie drank too, savoring every drop as if it were their last.

"You must be hungry," Lyria said with a kind smile.

Hunger wasn't their biggest problem — they could endure it for long periods, and they had always had the option to cook the scorpion meat they'd gathered. But since real food was being offered, why not?

Jessie nodded.

Lyria returned after a while, carrying a wide stone platter lined with leaves that glowed faintly — like veins of moonlight.

The aroma hit first — soft and floral, yet oddly meaty. On the platter lay a mix of golden roots that shimmered like honeyed glass, slices of pale-blue fruit dripping with silver nectar, and a bowl of grain-like seeds steaming with a faint green haze.

"This is dewgrain," Lyria said, setting the bowl before them. "The soil of Nethra nourishes it."

Ash scooped a handful and took a cautious bite. The taste was… indescribable — sweet, earthy, yet sharp on the tongue. The fatigue in his muscles melted away almost instantly. His heartbeat steadied. His mind cleared.

Jessie, too, tasted the fruit. The moment the liquid touched her tongue, warmth spread through her chest — not like fire, but like sunlight seeping through her veins. "It's… amazing," she murmured.

Lyria smiled, watching them with quiet pride. "Every seed, every drop of water comes from the Heart itself. You'll sleep well tonight."

Ash frowned. "The Heart?"

She gestured outside, toward the colossal tree at the center of the settlement. "That tree sustains everything — the people, the food, even the air you breathe. It gives us what we need, when we need it."

Jessie slowly set the fruit down, her instincts whispering something she couldn't name.

The aftertaste lingered longer than it should have — metallic, like blood beneath sugar, it was very faint to notice.

Ash noticed it too. He leaned back, glancing at the glowing leaves outside.

"Generous for a tree," he muttered under his breath.

Lyria tilted her head with an odd smile — one that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"You have the Blessing. You're closer to the Heart than I am."

"What's this blessing?" Ash asked, momentarily forgetting everything else.

"It's… I don't know. Only the temple priest understands it. Very few people are chosen as Blessed — maybe one person every week."

Ash frowned, confused. 'Why does that sound less like a blessing… and more like a sacrificial lamb?'

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