The small stone house had no windows.
Only a narrow opening near the ceiling, covered by a worn curtain, allowed air and a faint strip of light to enter.
Footsteps ran back and forth inside the room, echoing loudly. Children laughed without restraint, their voices overlapping in carefree chaos. Yet among the noise, several of them sat quietly, backs straight, eyes fixed on the young woman standing at the front.
Many faces filled the room.
Shy faces. Sleepy ones. A few already lost to dreams. Faces brimming with excitement. Others touched by emotion. Some always smiling, some curious, some indifferent and more than a few clearly hungry.
In the end, every gaze settled on the hands of the teacher.
Her name was Rea.
She held a piece of chalk, slowly writing across a blackboard layered with traces of old lessons.
And little by little, something changed.
Before Teacher Rea came into their lives, letters and numbers meant nothing to these children, children born as outcasts. Words were unfamiliar symbols. Sentences were empty sounds. Knowledge was either a distant dream or a bedtime story meant only to comfort, never to be owned.
But after meeting Rea, those meaningless lines began to take shape.
They became lessons about life.
About the future.
About choices.
About hope.
Rea stopped writing and turned around.
The shy child still hid in the corner.
The cheerful one smiled brightly for no reason.
The talkative one refused to stay quiet.
The sensitive one sniffled softly.
The naughty one stood on one foot as punishment.
The horned child chewed his lunch despite the early hour.
The long-eared child watched everything carefully.
The bearded child adjusted his chair to keep it from tilting.
The furry one snored peacefully, deep in sleep.
Finally, the class leader spoke. "Teacher, Albert ate my paper."
Rea smiled.
"Albert, I told you not to eat during class."
"That's not the problem, Teacher."
"Then…" Rea paused for a moment. "Make sure you finish your meal."
The class leader let out a long sigh.
"…Fine."
Despite the noise and disorder, Rea showed no anger. No disappointment.
Only a smile remained on her face.
A smile filled with meaning, one that could never truly be put into words.
Because deep in her heart, Rea held a single, quiet wish.
That one day, these children would change the world.
**********
Morning mist clung to the ancient forest.
Massive trees swayed gently as the wind passed through their branches, as if the land itself were breathing.
Beneath tangled roots wrapped around black stone, a faint orange glow leaked from the ground. It pulsed once. Like a heartbeat.
The girl awakened.
Her pale eyelids slowly opened, revealing eyes that carried an age far beyond her youthful appearance. Golden hair spread across the mossy ground long, dulled by time, yet completely untouched by decay.
Rea lay at the center of a circle of ancient symbols, nearly erased by rain and centuries of neglect.
She inhaled.
Her first breath in a thousand years.
The forest responded with soft rustling leaves. The scent of damp earth, tree sap, flowing water, and living creatures filled her senses.
Memories surged.
Flames turning the sky orange.
War cries of fearless soldiers.
Blood flowing like rivers.
Screams of despair.
Rage born from vengeance.
The hopeless silence of death.
Rea's hands trembled as she pressed them to her chest.
Her heart was still beating.
Faithfully.
Endlessly.
The world she once knew was gone. Empires had fallen. Heroes were reduced to names carved in stone. History itself had faded into legend.
Only she remained.
A girl who had lived long enough to watch everything end.
Rea stood, unsteady at first, and looked around. The forest felt unfamiliar, yet fate stirred quietly around her. The air carried the weight of conflict old, yet close.
Barefoot, she walked forward.
Over roots.
Through bushes.
Across stone and mud.
A simple white cloth wrapped around her body served as her only clothing. Her dull golden hair slipped through its folds as she reached for wild fruit along the path.
She stopped by a small stream.
Her reflection was unchanged.
Her eyes were not.
She continued onward until light broke through the trees. A sudden gust of wind swept past, revealing crimson eyes staring toward the horizon beneath an orange sky.
Rea stood atop a cliff.
Below her stretched endless forest. Far away, snow-covered hills touched the sky. Rivers split and twisted toward distant lakes.
Nothing else existed. Only trees.
"Where should I go…?" she whispered.
She didn't hesitate.
Rea jumped.
Wind roared as she fell dozens of meters, clutching her robe to keep it in place. Ancient words escaped her lips, barely audible.
Light formed beneath her feet.
The air surged upward, slowing her fall.
She landed unharmed.
It defied common sense but this was a blessing granted by the True God to those who existed beyond time. Mystical word order.
Rea brushed the dust from her robe and looked up at the sky.
"I guess…"
"This will be a new story."
No one answered.
And so, Rea walked on, guided only by instinct, with no destination and no fear.
Her long journey had begun again.