Elthara stepped toward the door, drawn by the voice that had no body but felt like breath on her spine. The child beside her held no fear—only quiet anticipation, as if he, too, had been waiting far too long. Aelrian tried to follow, but the floor beneath him cracked, not violently, but like a page folding closed before its reader could continue. “Not yet,” the voice said to him. “This is her chapter.”Beyond the door, no walls existed. No ceiling, no floor—only vastness inked in dusk, a realm shaped by potential. It was neither dream nor memory, but a boundary-space where stories chose whether to become real. The first sentence hovered before her, burning gently in gold, but as she reached to touch it, it split. Not broken—divided. There were now two beginnings. One born of grief. One born of defiance. She was being asked not only to choose, but to become one of them.Elthara’s hand trembled. All her life, she had been guided by what she thought was destiny—by prophecy, by memory, by
Huling Na-update : 2025-06-13 Magbasa pa