⟁ Chapter 34: The Weight of Ink
There was no fire. No empress. No battlefield.
Vexi's trial was silence.
She arrived in a long, cold hall, dimly lit by tall candles that didn't flicker. Shelves lined every wall—full of scrolls, papers, ink jars, and things that looked untouched by time. It smelled like dust and dry parchment.
A man stood near a desk, hunched, wearing a simple gray robe. His beard was streaked with white, and his eyes looked like they had forgotten what sleep was.
"You're early," he said, without looking up.
"I wasn't told I had a time," Vexi replied, arms crossed.
He finally looked at her. "That's fair."
He rummaged through a stack, pulled out a scroll tied with red string, and held it out. "Here. This one's yours."
Vexi took it slowly. "What is it?"
"Everything that's ever happened to you. What you saw, what you missed, what you forgot. And… things you changed without realizing."
She raised a brow. "So this is... a journal?"
He gave a small laugh. "If journals could whisper to the universe and slap you with guilt, sure."
Vexi blinked. "…Right."
He gestured to the large marble desk behind her. "Sit. Read. Then write. Change what you think should've gone differently. Or don't. Just remember: the scroll grows the more you see. And time in here... doesn't behave."
"Wait, so I just... rewrite my life?"
"Not just your life. Your truth. The history you carried and left behind."
"And if I screw it up?"
He gave a soft shrug. "Then you live with that too."
—
Time passed strangely.
Vexi sat alone. A candle flickered near her hand, and the scroll slowly unrolled with every thought that crossed her mind.
She saw her past. Her family. Quiet mornings. Nights she couldn't sleep. The first time she saw Jio fight, his hands trembling but his eyes glowing with that soft fire.
She saw things she didn't remember: the look someone gave her when she ignored them. A door she never opened. A kindness she failed to return.
It wasn't just memory—it was everything that connected to her.
And at the very bottom, in faded ink, the scroll wrote something new:
"Fix what you were not meant to be."
Vexi stared at it.
"…That's vague," she muttered.
Then, more words appeared:
"That's your problem."
She groaned.
"Great. Smartass scroll."
But she kept reading. And thinking. She changed a few things. At first, just little regrets. Then bigger ones. She tried to rewrite one painful day—and when she did, the candle flickered out.
It re-lit by itself.
Her hand trembled a bit.
She stopped.
"…Maybe I'm not supposed to erase stuff just because it hurts," she whispered to herself.
She scratched out a line she had written and replaced it with one sentence:
"I saw what happened. I kept it with me. And I kept walking."
It felt right. Simple. Honest.
That's when the scroll rolled itself back up.
The man returned, quiet as ever. He looked at the scroll, nodded slowly, and gave her a glance that was… almost kind.
"No one's ever really ready for this one," he said. "But you didn't run. That matters."
"Did I pass?"
He shrugged. "That's not really my job to say."
Vexi gave him a dry look. "Thanks. That's helpful."
He smiled.
Before she left, she looked at him one last time. "Hey… what happens if someone rewrites everything?"
He paused.
"They forget who they are. And the world forgets them too."
She didn't ask anything else.
When she stepped out of the hall, the air felt different. Lighter.
She saw Havella and Jio waiting. They both looked exhausted in their own ways. Jio waved, a bit sheepish. Havella gave her a subtle nod.
Vexi didn't say much.
But this time, she stood a little closer to them than before.
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End of Chapter 34
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