Mythra's eyes were wide with excitement. "How… When do we start?"

Favner's laughter filled the room. "No time like the present," he exclaimed, his voice brimming with enthusiasm as he approached Mythra's bedside. He patted the boy gently on the back. "Straighten up, Lad, and do exactly as I say. Place your right palm over your heart, then pinch that pendant between your thumb and ring finger. Like so."

With practiced precision, Favner demonstrated the motion, his hand hovering over his chest, fingers poised as if grasping an invisible treasure.

"This is the earth mudra, Prithvi," he declared, his tone firm and authoritative. "It'll help to awaken your root chakra. The quicker your body is nourished by root chakra the quicker the bones in your legs and spine will heal and strengthen."

Mythra mirrored Favner's actions with precision, earning a nod of approval from the dwarf. "I guess one of the benefits of a smart pupil is they're quick learners," he praised with a slight smile.

"Alright, next step, continue to hold that pose," Favner instructed, his voice steady and clear. "But now, rest your left hand on your legs with the palm facing up and fingers extended, then touch your thumb and index finger together. Like so."

Once again, Favner demonstrated the pose.

"This is the mind's light, the mudra of knowledge and perception, Gyana," Favner explained. "It should help awaken your third eye chakra, which will fix the broken connection between your mind and body. If that's not fixed, your legs will never work, even if they're, fully healed." Another nod of approval followed as Mythra flawlessly imitated the gesture.

"Good, now close your eyes and breathe, long and slow. Focus your mind on your lower body, starting at your lower back and following it down to the bottom of your feet. Fall into a rhythm. Clear your mind of other thoughts. Only focus on those parts of your body. Breathe in… breathe out." With each word, Favner guided Mythra deeper into the practice, his voice steady and reassuring.

Slowly, Mythra fell into a meditative trance, his body enveloped in a cocoon of safety and warmth as if the world catered to his every need. At that moment, he felt whole.

In his mind's eye, a vivid vision unfolded. Amidst the cedar trees, bathed in the soft afternoon light filtering through the canopy, Mythra, found himself wedged in a familiar nook between a thick branch and a sturdy trunk. His body, coated in mud, poised with bow drawn, aiming down at his target. But this time, it was not a wild boar in his sights—it was a boy. A boy he knew well. With silver hair illuminated by sunlight, and eyes reflecting the hues of twilight, their gazes locked in a silent exchange, an unspoken dialogue passing between them.

Time seemed to stand still for the twins as they remained locked in an eternal standoff, but around them, the seasons changed in a continuous cycle: fall became winter, winter became spring, spring became summer, and summer returned to fall. Still, no matter how much time passed the two boys remained idle. In this realm where time flowed like a woven tapestry, the boys were statuesque observers, devoid of thought or action. The tension of Mythra's drawn bow mirrored the steadfast resolve reflected in the other boy's gaze. Neither would yield in this tranquil confrontation, but their actions held no malice. They were the balance that allowed the world to keep its motion, the hushed keepers of harmony.

Suddenly, the world shuddered, and, amidst the dense foliage, a colossal gate rose from the ground. Crafted entirely from lustrous ruby and bound with onyx chains that snaked skyward from the earth, it dominated the landscape with an imposing aura. Engraved upon the gate's surface, was a symbol, an intricate four-petal lotus atop an inverted triangle, cleaved at its apex.

In the towering presence of this monumental structure, Mythra was consumed by a profound sense of insignificance. He felt a looming threat as if the gate might devour him, leaving nothing behind, not even the memory of his passing. The overwhelming sensation of weakness and fear caused a bitter smile to tug at the corners of his doppelgänger's lips.

As the season changed to winter and a gentle dusting of snow blanketed the world, a soft, soothing voice resonated in his mind like a comforting mother: "You have come too soon, Little One. I cannot welcome you in your current state. Begone."

Mythra's eyes snapped open as he emerged from his trance. His breath came in heavy gasps as his heart raced in his chest. It felt like he'd been drowning, sweat soaking his linen robes and leaving them clinging uncomfortably to his skin.

A grumble came from the doorway, "To think you'd waste all the daylight meditating. If I didn't know better, I'd never believe you were a first-time cultivator."

Mythra turned his head to see Favner leaning against his bedroom door, eyes closed, flask slipping from his loose grip. The dwarf straightened up, stretching his limbs with a yawn, the second one of the day. With a leisurely stride, he approached Mythra and lightly tapped him on the head before settling himself at the foot of the bed.

"Am I lucky or cursed? Is my disciple a talent or a failure? Tell me, Lad, what happened?"

Mythra found the experience difficult to put into words, "I… I saw myself," he stuttered, "I was in the forest, I'd been in that moment before, I held a bow but it was pointed… at another me." Mythra's eyes shook with uncertainty. "Years flew by but… we only stared at one another. Then a gate, made out of…" he lifted the pendant around his neck with a trembling hand, "made out of this rose from the ground. It was humongous! I was terrified and then a voice told me to leave."

Favner paused, his brow furrowing as he grappled with the inconceivable revelations pouring from the boy's lips. After contemplating, for a moment, he spoke with concern and curiosity, "It's either a stroke of luck or a dire curse to have you as a disciple, that much is certain. I'm still unsure which it is though."

Favner shakily lifted the flask to his lips and took a sip. "A guardian, Lad? You truly encountered one during your first meditation?" His fingers gently brushed against his forehead as his brow furrowed deeper into a troubled frown. "And the Gate of Life revealed itself to you? Why? Surely, your root chakra is unrefined. Isn't it? Boy, tell me true."

Favner turned and clamped his hands on Mythra's shoulders with a vicelike grip. "Have you dabbled in cultivation before?"

"No, of course not! How could I..." the boy's voice trailed off in bewilderment, "I didn't even know such magics existed until today!"

The dwarf slowly relaxed his grip, his hands falling listlessly to his sides. His demeanor shifted as he considered unbelievable possibilities.

"Your soul either has a bond with the earth element that's without equal, or," his mouth split into a euphoric grin, "perhaps there is more than one? Could it be possible?"

Favner drew in a deep breath, letting its calming influence settle the storm of emotions within him. He paused, contemplating the implications of his words.

His gaze shifted to the boy beside him, who trembled like a newborn lamb. With a hint of concern softening his features, he spoke earnestly, "Remember, Lad, regardless of what lies ahead, never lose yourself to temptation. Stay true to who you are."

Mythra looked at the dwarf, his expression clouded with confusion and panic. "What do you mean by that? What's happening to me?"

Favner moved to pat the boy on the head, but he flinched, stilling the dwarf's hand. Favner sighed, "I'm sorry for being rough with you, Lad, for a moment I was as worried, same as you. You should calm yourself; there's nothing wrong with you, you're just… a little special, is all. You have to learn to master your emotions, now more than ever. If you let them rule you, the guardians…"

He paused, unsure how to delicately convey the truth. "The guardians are a blessing, Lad. They will give you power far beyond the ordinary. They're reflections of your soul. You're lucky to get a glimpse of one, even if it did send you off without a wave. Among dwarves, meeting a guardian is the mark of a king. You should be proud, Lad; you're the first human heir to the dwarven throne."

Favner chuckled ruefully, wondering if he'd made a mistake. "But, heed my words. The guardians will test you. They'll whisper promises in your ear. Urge you to wield their powers recklessly. Resist the allure. If you fall to it, you'll either find yourself broken, buried, or worse... next time you meet, you'll be the one staring up at them and they'll be the one holding the bow."

The sunlight dipped beyond the horizon, casting a shroud over the room. Favner rose from his seat and made his way toward the bedroom door. "That's enough for today," he declared firmly. "I'll come back the day after tomorrow." He fixed Mythra with a stern gaze. "Until I say you're ready, you are not to meditate without me present. Am I clear?"

Mythra nodded, his movement reminiscent of a baby chick.

"Good," Favner nodded approvingly. "Rest up. If you keep cultivating as quickly as you did today, you'll walk before the harvest. It's a good thing too; I could use a hand." With a wry smile and a parting wave, the dwarf exited the room, shutting the door behind him.

Mythra sat alone in the darkness, still reeling from all he had learned throughout the day. He rolled the pendant around with his fingers, memories of the symbol engraved on the gate flashing through his mind. He clenched the necklace in his palm. Favner never explained anything about the gate, only saying its name, The Gate of Life, huh?

He looked down at his legs, dark lifeless mounds in the dim light, and whispered, "I'll be walking before the harvest. I wonder, will you welcome me then?" A small smile touched his lips before he closed his eyes, letting sleep take him into its embrace.