Footsteps crunched softly over the sandy ground. A line of people stretched neatly under the harsh midday sun. No one spoke. Only the shuffle of sandals and weary breaths filled the air.
I stood in the middle of the queue, holding an empty tray. My hand gripped the handle tighter than it needed to. Sunlight filtered through the white tent above, casting faint shadows of waiting bodies.
When it was my turn, an old man ladled warm potato soup into my bowl. I gave a small nod, murmured, "Thank you," and left in silence.
My tent was at the farthest corner. I entered, sat in the corner, and placed the bowl on a shaky foldable table. The book... was still there. I had kept it by my pillow, and now moved it to my side. Its worn cover seemed to pulse—tempting me to open it.
But I didn't.
I stared at it quietly. There was fear, hesitation, something that held my fingers back. I knew... whatever I read next, it would come true. Just like before.
And I wasn't ready.
I leaned my head against the tent pole. Took a deep breath. Tried to accept it all—that I, somehow, had a role in this. That silence was no longer an option. But I didn't want to run, either.
Better to wait, to think, to steady my heart.
Days passed. The sky changed colors. Winds shifted seasons. The moon gave way to new years. And now… it's the third year since the tragedy.
Shionra stands again. Not as strong, not as beautiful. But it stands.
So do I.
I lowered my gaze, eyes fixed on the book.
I took a breath. Then, with steady voice, I whispered:
"It's time."
I stood on the hilltop, letting the wind slowly brush through my hair.
The air in Gaelvorn felt unfamiliar—not because I didn't know it, but because it was too clean to believe. No smoke. No engines. No noise urging movement. Just silence, and a soft breeze dancing gently across my tired skin after a long journey from Shionra.
A journey I followed... guided only by this book.
My eyes were met with a view that looked almost like a painting. Green fields stretched endlessly below. Small villages rested peacefully, nestled against hills and farmland. Winding dirt roads branched like veins bringing them life.
"So... this is beyond what I expected."
I never thought... there were still mountains left unscarred. Villages untouched by cities. Open land still preserved.
I sat down slowly, letting my body rest in the soft grass. My chest felt light, as if the weight of the past three years was slowly lifted by the wind.
"Is this... the heart of the conflict it meant?"
"Why was I brought here?"
"What is this book really leading me toward?"
The breeze drifted gently. The scent of unspoiled earth seeped into my lungs. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to absorb it all—before it might change.
I knew... a new conflict was coming. Something bigger.
"Is it true... that two titans will meet here?"
"Two creatures the size of calamities... in a place this beautiful?"
I opened my eyes. Then opened the book.
The pages I had postponed reading now spread open on my lap. But before I could go any further, my eyelids grew heavy.
"Am I really ready to read it?"
"If what I read becomes reality... why do I keep going?"
The wind tickled my skin, calming me. The grass cradled my back. This world felt too peaceful. Too quiet to be the stage for catastrophe.
My body lay down. The book remained open on my chest.
~Plok.
A single drop of drool fell onto one of the pages. I fell asleep.
On a peaceful hill. With the pages open. With questions still unanswered. And a world I didn't yet know... waiting to be faced... The book that waited.