The hero walks through shadows that have not yet gained names.
Each step leaves a trace, which simultaneously has already been and has not yet happened.
He sees the future in reflections: ash, dragon, battles — all folded into a single instant.
And at the same time — the dragon looks back.
Not with eyes. Not with reason.
Too complex.
Rather with a feeling that stretches across layers: "This moment I have seen, even before I became who I will be."
At the intersection point, they almost touch each other.
Not with gaze, not with words, but with an inexpressible sense of coincidence.
— You came too early, — thinks the hero, though he does not speak.
— You appeared too late, — thinks the dragon, though no one hears.
And at that moment, a strange thing happens: the world itself takes a step.
Not the hero. Not the dragon. Not anyone.
Existence itself decides to continue.
The war that will come later has already begun as a probability.
The cross on the hero's sleeve is already formed, though his hand does not yet exist.
The dragon's flame is only an echo, though its future body already exists in the structure of the world.
Every element comes alive simultaneously in past and future.
And only the hero and the dragon feel the tension that cannot be called fear.
— All of this… — thinks the hero, but the thought dissolves, — not for a goal.
— All of this… — thinks the dragon, but the thought disappears, — not for power.
They walk along a line that leads nowhere, yet forces all possible paths to move.
Each step of the hero — causes an echo in time.
Each glance of the dragon — forms a law, by which people, soldiers, prophets, children will someday live.
The world quivers.
Not with noise. Not with thunder.
But with the vibration of its very structure.
And in this quiver, a feeling is born: nothing was accidental, yet everything is arbitrary.
They almost meet.
Almost understand each other.
And almost — know that it does not matter.
Because more important than the meeting is the path they have both already begun.
A path without a goal.
A path that creates meaning on its own, without asking permission.
And in this intersection of time, space, and intention — the first true moment of freedom:
Not choice.
Not action.
Simply existence.