Ruger was practically pressed against the painting. Yet no matter how wide he opened his eyes, they could not compare to the giant dragon in the picture. After discovering the well's reflection, he did not rush to try anything. Instead, he continued to feel those eyes. He truly had the sensation of staring into the eyes of the dragon in the painting. Those enormous amber-like vertical pupils—he felt that if he kept looking at them long enough, he might even hear the dragon's voice and understand more clearly what it wished to convey.
But he knew that was unlikely. The well in the reflection was becoming clearer and clearer.
The spirituality that had been intangible and formless outside seemed clearer and more visible here. Not that it could truly be seen, but it felt more real, as though it had taken form. The spirituality that was now easier to sense and grasp was also silently telling Ruger that this wondrous exchange of gazes was about to end.
In a daze, Ruger saw a lush, verdant place. Yet when he tried to look closely at the grasses and trees, he could not make them out. When he did not look, however, he somehow knew in his heart that his surroundings were green and flourishing. Only the well before him was clear enough to examine in detail; every stain and grain on the stacked, interlocking blue stone blocks was plainly visible.
At the final moment, Ruger still felt the strange dragon's enormous eyes watching him.
Then, he arrived completely at the side of the well.
A strange feeling rose in his heart, and he knew that, for no apparent reason, he had obtained a spot.
There was indeed only one well, yet what each person saw was different. The place where he