Rinoa sat at the bow of the boat, her gaze piercing through the dense foliage that bordered the tranquil waterway, tracing the faint, misty path that cloaked the calm surface beneath. In an instant, the shadows of melancholy that previously etched her features transformed, as if years had been added to her spirit overnight. She was confronted with sudden, unexpected challenges that had carved her into a more resilient and mature individual.
Fitran paddled slowly, his movements deliberate yet weighted by the remnants of past battles; his body bore the marks of bruises, while deeper wounds and scars remained concealed behind the depths of his haunted eyes, which shimmered with untold tales and bitter experiences. Each stroke of the paddle not only propelled the boat forward but also whispered the unsung struggles that enveloped his soul, a mirror reflecting the complex tapestry of his emotions.
"Fitran," Rinoa's voice broke through the enveloping silence, soft yet resonant, echoing in the profound stillness around them.
"When I became the Avatar again… I didn't realize it right away. It felt like being pulled into a space between dreams and existence, a bewildering experience, like being lost in a labyrinth of swirling thoughts."
Fitran turned briefly to meet Rinoa's attentive gaze before returning his focus to the tranquil waters ahead, allowing her words to wash over him. He listened intently, ready to absorb the enigmatic and ironic narrative that promised to unveil a new reality.
"There… I saw myself, but not as I am now. I appeared older, stronger, as though I had been sculpted by the weight of profound life experiences. Yet behind that façade of strength lay an emptiness that cut deep, shattered more than I could articulate. My face bore intersecting scars, each scratch a silent testament to stories of ascents and descents, a narrative as inevitable as the passing of time. My hair was wild and tousled, cascading like an unshackled waterfall, enhancing the untamed essence of my figure. The wings on my back were torn in half, telling of a struggle unavoidable—every fiber of my being seemed etched with the remnants of a fierce battle."
"I was fighting."
Fitran gripped the paddle tightly, feeling tension pulsing through his fingers, yet he remained silent, ensnared in a tempest of deep thoughts and overwhelming emotions.
"There are thousands… no, millions of beings—entities beyond the limits of my comprehension. They do not resemble monsters or demons; to me, they take on the form of an emptiness contemplating itself, a void brimming with fears and hopes, each grappling within a soundless cacophony. They resonate in waves of inexplicable energy, weaving through ideas rather than forms, transcending our grasp of reality."
Rinoa took a deep breath, as if drawing in the very atmosphere around her, longing to intertwine herself with that profound experience.
"That other Rinoa… she reached out to me. She said, 'Please, Fitran.' Her voice bore the weight of a heavy plea, laden with shards of hope and the depth of deep pain."
Fitran paused his paddling, his gaze lowered and lost in the turbulent sea of emotions elicited by Rinoa's voice. Shadows of pain and longing danced across his features, as if each note she uttered carved an indelible wound into his heart, deepening the sorrow that gripped him.
"I don't remember all the details. There's just a feeling… like I was resisting something far more powerful, a tormenting sense of loss. It feels akin to standing alone in the stillness of midnight, when even the stars hesitate to shine their light. Those entities—strange and terrifying creatures—consumed our memories to fortify themselves. I witnessed their forms twisting and reshaping… one morphed into my mother, her gentle smile radiating warmth, while another distorted into a reflection of you—though it was an eerie imitation that felt distinctly wrong. They clouded my thoughts, trying to sow seeds of doubt in every belief I held dear, tearing apart the fragile convictions I had painstakingly built over time.
"Yet amidst this chaos, I fought on. I yearned to return because I knew you were waiting for me, your presence a steadfast beacon in the churning waves of despair."
The silence enveloped them, a thick blanket of unspoken tension, as if the world itself held its breath, attuned to the weight of their shared burden. Fitran resumed his steady rowing, the rhythmic pull and release of his breath echoing the cadence of a familiar song. Yet, beneath that exterior calm, Rinoa sensed an undercurrent of tension coursing through him, like a tightly coiled spring, poised for the moment to unfurl.
"Aren't you going to ask more?" Rinoa turned to him, her eyes piercing through Fitran's deep gaze, which seemed to harbor a million unspoken questions hidden beneath layers of silence. "You're usually the one who wants to uncover every detail, like a detective drawn irresistibly to an enigma."
Fitran looked away, his expression flat and devoid of emotion, or perhaps it was overwhelmed by the storm of feelings he could not articulate, trapped within the labyrinth of his own heart. After a brief, tense silence, he finally spoke, his words layered with sincerity, "I… am glad you're back, like rediscovering a lost part of myself that I thought was gone forever."
"Is that all?" Rinoa challenged, her eyes sparkling with hope, yearning for a revelation that lay deeper beneath the surface.
Fitran locked eyes with her for a moment, seemingly weighing the weight of her curiosity, before his gaze drifted to the horizon, his eyes clouded and vacant, as if reluctant to reveal the thorny rose hidden within his heart.
"Rinoa, this world—what you perceive—is far from ordinary. And I cannot let you understand… not yet."
"Why?" Rinoa pressed, her curiosity burning like an unquenchable inferno, fueled by the intensity of the moment.
"Because if you understand… they will know too."
The air thickened with tension, her heart racing in sync with an unseen threat lurking just beyond comprehension.
"Who… are they?" her voice trembled, a whisper choked with deep-seated anxiety.
Fitran responded by rowing faster, each stroke of the oars slicing through the water as if his urgency could stave off the weight of the pressing questions that bore down upon them.
"Entities that defy existence, elusive beings concealed within the unspoken words and the shadows of forgotten memories. If you become fully aware of their intentions, they can breach our reality, unleashing chaos beyond imagination."
"You've encountered them before…" Rinoa urged, her curiosity igniting with fervor. "Even before I became the Avatar again, right?"
Fitran's gaze drifted far into the horizon, where the mysterious Stones emerged hazily at the river's edge, shrouded in a veil of mist that obscured every detail, melding the lines between the tangible world and the ominous darkness lurking beyond.
"I… have confronted them," he murmured, his voice quivering gently like the whispering wind threading through the branches. "But not in the guise you wear. To them, I am a threat. To you… you are the threshold that must be breached."
He fixed his eyes on Rinoa with a consuming intensity, his gaze a silent testament to the gravity of his feelings.
"So, you recall something?" Fitran inquired, hope lacing his voice, attempting to dissolve the palpable tension in the air.
"Yes, a fragment. I remember the escape after I ceased being the Avatar of Harmony, and the terrifying moment when Malakotheis seized my body," Rinoa recounted, her mind flashing back to those fraught and dangerous times.
Clutching the edge of the boat tightly, she pressed her palm against the cool, weathered wood, feeling the very heartbeat of nature resonate around her, as if the world itself was attuned to the rhythm of her own pulse.
"So… what will we do now?" she asked, her eyes brimming with anxiety and unspoken hope, echoing the uncertainty that hung in the air.
Fitran gazed at her with intense focus, his eyes searching the depths of her shimmering gaze for answers. Finally, he whispered, "We will reach Stones. And there, perhaps… we will uncover truths that can no longer remain hidden."
As if in response to their urgent quest, the mist began to part, unveiling an astonishing hidden vista. At the river's end, ancient crystal ruins stood proudly, shimmering with the light of countless stars. The fragments of stone reflected the starlight like a fragmented painting, casting enchanting shadows that danced gracefully on the tranquil surface of the water.
Now, Stones was within sight, appearing close and tangible, as if it called to them, urging them to venture nearer and unlock the secrets woven deep within its storied walls.
Yet as their boat glided toward the sheltered shore of a small valley, darkness began to creep into the day, cloaking the scene beneath the forbidding shadows of the Forest of Redemption. Fitran remained ever vigilant at the side of the boat, his presence a guardian of the night's tranquility, while Rinoa succumbed to the allure of an inevitable dream. Despite her slumber, he could sense that an invisible call—the kind of magnetic pull that transcended even the deepest sleep—enveloped the air around them.
Ever since he returned as an Avatar, an echo had begun to resonate throughout the world, wrapping the atmosphere in a shroud of unseen energy. It was a sound that defied conventional forms, a melody so elusive that it hovered just beyond the edges of perception.
Not a sound.
Not a form.
Yet, a note with no source emerged—a mystical melody that resonated solely with those who had caressed the depths of emptiness. Fitran, ensnared in a web of uncertainty, felt his heart race, as if it yearned to harmonize with that elusive rhythm echoing through the air.
"One by one, the guardians of the symphony begin to tremble," he murmured softly, his heartbeat pulsing in sync with the celestial notes that intertwined with the sky. "The first note has been touched…"
Then, from beyond the thick canopy of trees, whose ancient roots burrow deep into the earth like the very veins of civilization, a shadow glided closer. It gazed upon them with an intensity that sent tremors through the soul. Lacking eyes or a face, its presence was merely a silhouette forged by the unspoken—a phantom whose very movements birthed an enigmatic aura that embraced both allure and dread, sparking an insatiable curiosity.
In the ancient tongue of Gamma, this being is known as "Eir-Sha", a title that translates to: The One Who Listens to Harmony to Nullify It.
After Rinoa returned as the Avatar of Harmony, the balance of the world was not just restored; it resonated like a powerful wave, echoing into dimensions long deemed forbidden. This surge of resonance triggered an awakening:
1. The Eir-Sha (Listeners of Void)
These haunting entities, shrouded in an eerie silence, consume harmony itself, transforming it into fuel that births deviant realities—worlds that veer away from their destined courses. If harmony is the symphony of existence, then the Eir-Sha are the renegade composers, artfully rearranging every melody with their unsettling yet mesmerizing presence. They stir from their shadows only when the "Original Note" is plucked once more, and it is Rinoa who strikes that note, deftly bridging two colliding worlds in a dance that is both terrifying and transcendent.
2. The Forgotten Cantors
These are the souls of past Avatars, whose attempts to maintain harmony ended in despair. They wander in a limbo of despair through the vast expanses of space and time, casting shadows that fade like echoes of forgotten memories. They are neither foes nor allies; rather, they bring with them a heavy burden of nostalgia intertwined with unrelenting regret. Slipping into Rinoa's dreams, they sing ancient songs in the beautiful and meaningful Proto Speech. These haunting melodies serve as poignant reminders for Rinoa—yet, if she dares to engage with them too deeply, she risks awakening the Void of Origin. This is a place where all beginnings entwine with inevitable endings, a corridor of darkness lurking, ever ready to consume whatever light remains.
3. The Eyes of Mithreth
The eyes of an ancient and enigmatic entity known as Mithreth are ensnared within the bindings of this world, rendered immobile without the presence of an Avatar, the chosen vessel for its concealed soul. With a gaze that pierces through the very fabric of existence, Mithreth perceives "harmony" not as a tranquil refuge but as a suffocating tyranny, shackling the freedom of all beings. In its dark and insatiable ambition, it fixates on the form of the Avatar, yearning to rebirth the world in absolute disharmony. In this twisted vision, every note and rhythm would converge into a dissonant cacophony that reverberates through the cosmos, shattering the serene foundations of nature and transforming tranquil peace into an unbridled chaos.