The one eyed man

Venturing into the depths of the cave, the air grew cooler, and the echoing sound of dripping water reverberated in the narrow passages. Stalactites hung like crystalline chandeliers, glistening with the remnants of moisture. 

The dim illumination revealed an intricate tapestry of mineral formations, a silent testimony to the cave's ancient existence.

As the path wound further into the abyss, the confines of the cave suddenly yielded to an expansive chamber. A soft glow emanated from bioluminescent fungi, casting an eerie luminescence upon the scene. Water droplets echoed in the silence, creating a haunting melody that underscored the subterranean ambiance.

In the heart of the chamber, a figure emerged, bathed in the faint glow. Chained to the rocky wall, the person presented a spectral visage. 

A red robe, like the cloak of twilight, draped over their form, concealing the intricacies of their corporeal self. Crimson strands of hair cascaded over the shoulders, reminiscent of molten lava, and a solitary eye gleamed with a scarlet intensity.

The person's skin, as pale as moonlit alabaster, seemed almost ethereal against the rugged backdrop of the cave. 

An air of enigma clung to them, heightened by the sight of a damaged eye, a testament to battles fought and secrets veiled. Shadows played upon the features, accentuating the mystery that shrouded the one-eyed figure.

Within the confined space, the chamber echoed with the occasional skittering of unseen creatures, adding an element of disquiet to the subterranean sanctuary. 

The person, confined yet regal, emanated an aura of both piousness and wickedness—a living paradox, suspended in the delicate dance between chains and solitude. The cave bore witness to their silent vigil, a clandestine observer to the untold tale that unfolded in the depths of the earth.

"And here I was thinking who it was. Just a phony dreaming to be a god." 

Upon entering the chamber, Vyrtalis's attention was immediately drawn to a person chained to the far wall. It became evident that the so-called 'He' required assistance from someone else.

"I have been waiting for you."

In that moment, Vyrtalis realized that something was awry with this man. The moment his words resonated, Vyrtalis felt an inexplicable compulsion to listen and believe whatever he was saying.

"Well, well, well, would you look at this," Vyrtalis thought, recognizing that whoever this person was, they held a level of lethality far surpassing their appearance.

"Not too shabby for a phony," Vyrtalis remarked as he approached the chained person. Despite sensing that the person wasn't as simple as they seemed, Vyrtalis was determined not to let it get to his head.

After all who was he, Vyrtalis? A walking myth himself.

Upon hearing Vyrtalis's comment, the man remained silent, fixing his gaze on Vyrtalis with his singular eye.

As the crimson eye focused on Vyrtalis, he felt an inexplicable sensation, as if all his buried desires were pleading to be unearthed. Even the subtle desires within him seemed to intensify under the gaze.

'A pain in the ass if he has something to do with moon believers.'

In haste, Vyrtalis waved his hand, conjuring a purple mist that enveloped him. The mist possessed an appearance reminiscent of something a villain might use to hypnotize young maidens, but Vyrtalis paid it little attention.

As the mist gradually enshrouded his body, obscuring visibility, the amplified sensation of his desires subsided.

Exhaling a sigh, Vyrtalis inquired, "Are you a Moon Believer?"

The significance of this question lay in the fact that Moon Believers were particularly challenging and troublesome to deal with, given their abilities that spanned across various domains.

The absence of specific bloodline-related powers among Moon Believers contributed to the fear surrounding them. Their versatility and lack of a discernible weakness made them formidable adversaries.

In response to Vyrtalis's question, the man in red simply offered a faint smile, neither confirming nor denying Vyrtalis's assumption.

'Stop being a clairvoyant, you red-haired bastard.'

Under normal circumstances, such thoughts magnified might have prompted him to act, but the mist played a crucial role in keeping them under control.

"I have three questions for you." 

Similar to the previous instance, Vyrtalis sensed a compelling urge to agree and nod, yet he managed to exert control over himself once more.

'Never knew speaking to someone would be this difficult.'

Without waiting for Vyrtalis to respond, the man continued, "First question, do you know about the Sea of Thalassara?"

Hearing the question and sensing no need for animosity, Vyrtalis nodded in acknowledgment, indicating that he was familiar with the Sea of Thalassara.

"Good. there will be a time when it will dry up, leaving no water behind."

"What?"

"Second question, is there a Forest full of date palms that seem to feel like eternal and never ending?" 

Despite Vyrtalis's inner confusion and skepticism, his head involuntarily nodded in agreement once again.

"That forest will go dry one day." 

"What are you talking about? Do I look dumb to you?" Frustration colored Vyrtalis's voice as he found himself continually being overlooked.

"Third question, is there a man that was born during the lunar eclipse?"

Vyrtalis found the question perplexing, unsure how he was supposed to know about the existence of such a man, even if it were real.

Although Vyrtalis lacked knowledge of the answer, his words betrayed him, and his head did nod sideways to signify that the existence of such a person was still not real.

"So he's not born yet. Interesting. You have served your purpose. You are free to go now," declared the man in red, seemingly satisfied with the information he gleaned from Vyrtalis.

Concluding his conversation, the man closed his eyes and ceased paying attention to Vyrtalis, who felt a gentle force pushing him outside, gradually distancing him from the enigmatic figure.

"Who are you?" Vyrtalis questioned through gritted teeth, his frustration evident in his tone.

Without casting a glance at the retreating figure of Vyrtalis, the man in red robes spoke.

"You think too much of yourself, Vyrtalis. You won't live to see another day if you come to know my name," the man in red declared ominously, his words carrying a veiled threat.

As the man's words concluded, Vyrtalis felt as if his brain were short-circuiting. An overwhelming deluge of unknown words and characters flooded his mind, causing him to faint.

"Take him back to his ship and ensure he returns safely," the man in red instructed, the order directed to the hairy being.

"Yes my lord."