The stone door leading to the second room opened silently. There was no magical pressure. No bursts of energy.
Only an unsettling calm... one that threatened to engulf them.
Yet as they stepped inside, the world transformed.
The stone walls vanished. The floor disappeared.
They stood in the midst of a calm expanse of water that reflected the dark purple sky—as if this world had no top or bottom. Low-hanging gray clouds drifted above, and from a distance, a sound emerged… a child's cry.
Then a scream.
Then a whisper.
Fitran gripped Rinoa's hand. But when he turned—
Rinoa was gone.
In this isolation, Fitran felt his heart racing. The tranquility enveloping the area resonated with the essence of spring, yet beneath it lay an unsettling anxiety. The cold water flowing beneath his feet seemed to pierce through time, a reminder of how far they had strayed from reality. Gazing into the surface of the water, he not only saw his reflection but also a vision of Rinoa, disappearing as if swallowed by darkness. "Rinoa! Where are you?" he shouted, his voice echoing against the empty walls, merging with the terrifying calm.
After feeling the weight of isolation, Fitran began to sense another presence around him. A gentle breeze brushed against his face, and gradually, faceless shadows began to take shape, appearing to observe him with curiosity and sorrow. Suddenly, one of them stepped forward, its voice soft yet firm, "Have you come for the truth, or are you merely searching for someone lost?" The question hung in the air, creating tension among the empty buildings of illusions.
Fitran swallowed hard, trying to summon the strength to respond. "I... I am searching for Rinoa. She has disappeared…" His words lingered in the silence, met with no encouragement from the shadows. Meanwhile, the other figures turned their gaze away, as if sensing the weight of his burden. Suddenly, the atmosphere around him vibrated, enveloped in an invisible energy, and Fitran felt a mixture of love and sorrow in a single breath. In that moment, he was certain that each shadow present held a story to tell, and perhaps, if he tried harder, he could find Rinoa among them.
Thinking quickly, Fitran realized that he had to explore this strange place. With forced courage, he began to step deeper into this unknown world. The scenery grew darker, and the purple sky started to fade into a deep green. The remnants of beauty seemed to be erased by the lurking darkness. "Courage is the key," he whispered to himself, trying to dispel the doubts creeping into his heart.
The statue depicted a woman with wide-open eyes, seemingly gazing directly into his soul. Beneath it, he noticed a collection of sparkling lights. The lights' beauty captivated him. "Perhaps there are clues here," he thought, bending down to touch them. As soon as his palm brushed the water's surface, a wave of energy flowed through his body, and the shadows began to speak clearly. "Rinoa will return, but not without sacrifice," one of them said urgently.
Fitran's mind was filled with doubt and hope. What would he sacrifice to find his true love? He could feel the tension in the air, like electricity brushing against his skin. Struggling with his despair, Fitran was certain that although darkness loomed, the love he had for Rinoa was the strongest light. "I will not give up," he shouted, his voice echoing, creating ripples on the surface of the water around him.
Returning to the vision of his shadow, he could see Rinoa's reflection amidst the calm ripples of water. "Rinoa, wait!" he cried out, hope blooming anew in his heart; he stepped further into the water, following the shadow that transformed into Rinoa's figure. However, as he reached for the figure's hand, he found it to be merely an illusion, deepening the ache in his chest. "Don't go," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion, causing the water to flow faster, creating larger ripples.
Suddenly, the flowing water turned into mist, which began to envelop Fitran's body. Various hushed voices could be heard, exchanging whispers, as if recounting old tales buried within the history of that place. Each story was filled with sorrow and loss, and without realizing it, he began to feel an emotional connection to all those voices, transcending the pain of losing Rinoa.
From within the mist, another figure emerged. This time, it was not just a shadow. A soldier clad in shimmering alloy armor stepped forward. "Your path will not be easy. To regain what was lost, you must overcome obstacles greater than this," said the soldier. With a steady yet gentle tone, the soldier continued, "Rona will find her way back, but you must be willing to pay the price demanded."
Fitran gazed at him in confusion. "What must I do?" he asked, his voice filled with hope yet tinged with doubt. "You must unite with the power within you. Your identity holds more than just a name and a face. Remember, this is where your true quest begins," replied the soldier, watching Fitran struggle to express his feelings.
Hearing those words ignited something within him. Beautiful memories spent with Rinoa rushed back; her smile, her laughter, and the moments they pledged to look after one another. "I will do it," he declared with determination, and once more, the surge of energy flowed around him, igniting a deeper spirit within.
With newfound confidence, he stepped forward. The darkness felt slightly lighter as he walked, even though threatening shadows and darkness surrounded him. He sensed something greater walking beside him, and there was no perfect path; each step would teach Fitran to recognize the poles of his soul. His spirit strengthened, a resolve that propelled his steps, increasingly hard to extinguish.
Yesterday may be history, but in this moment, with each breath and unwavering belief, he knew Rinoa was waiting for him at the end of the road. Like moonlight battling the darkness of night, he was ready to unveil the mystery and rediscover his love. With gathered determination, he continued running toward the encroaching darkness, dancing with the unpredictable magical forces of nature, living and fighting for the truth.
He stood alone, feeling empty in the midst of the drizzling rain that heightened the sadness of the atmosphere. Each drop fell like a reminder of a past he could not change. Outside, the wind whispered softly, moving the leaves as if they were dancing, though there was no joy in that motion.
Langkah pertama Fitran menuntunnya ke jalan berbatu sempit di tengah air. Di sisi kiri dan kanan berdiri bayangan manusia tanpa wajah, hanya siluet. Tapi masing-masing berbicara dengan suara yang dikenalnya. Setiap langkahnya menjadi semakin berat, seolah ada jari-jari tak terlihat yang menyeretnya mundur.
"Aku percaya padamu," suara Iris, penuh harapan meski diwarnai keraguan.
"Kenapa kau tidak menyelamatkanku?" suara seorang anak, lirih tapi menyentuh jiwanya, mengingatkan pada bagian terkelam dari hidupnya.
"Jangan ulangi kesalahan yang sama…" suara dirinya sendiri—Fitran yang lebih tua, penuh penyesalan, bergetar dalam angin dingin.
Rasa nyerinya merasa begitu tajam, setiap kata bagaikan bilah tajam yang menembus hati. Ia ingin menjawab, namun suara yang terhisap dalam tenggorokannya terasa bagai belenggu. Lalu, suara yang tak pernah ia lupakan:
"Kalau aku mati untukmu, bisakah kau hidup untukku?"
That voice belonged to Elbert, his former teacher, a victim of Beelzebub's magic. Memories of Elbert surged back clearly, forcing Fitran to confront the dark truth he had long tried to ignore.
The image of Elbert stood at the end of the road. The wound on his chest was still blackened, gaping, as if screaming the agony that remained untreated. His hands were burned and smoldering, yet they couldn't warm the coldness enveloping them. His eyes were hollow, seemingly devoid of hope, yet still connected to Fitran. Each remembered something, longing for what had been lost.
"I choose the world," Fitran whispered, his voice overflowing into the silence.
"And the world rejects me. But I will no longer blame you." In each of those words lingered a deep bond, an aching nostalgia that was hard to comprehend, illustrating how a single event could shatter two souls.
The shadow of Elbert walked backwards, slowly yet unmistakably, as if he wished to leave behind a past that could never be altered. Then he disappeared into the water.
Ripples in the water clearly followed his departure, emphasizing Fitran's helplessness. The road ahead opened up, revealing a faint light that promised something, yet his heart felt heavy, weighed down by unsaid sorrow.
Elsewhere,
Rinoa awoke in a small room, surrounded by large mirrors that shimmered and gleamed. The space felt in stark contrast to her emotions, as if the real world and an illusory realm had merged into one. Each mirror presented a version of herself, reflections that could lead her to deeper understanding or heighten her confusion.
It was as if each mirror possessed a soul of its own; they took on various shapes and characters that, in one way or another, reflected her tumultuous journey through life. Amidst this chaos, a sense of unease began to seep into Rinoa's spirit. The reflections of herself in the mirrors yearned for acknowledgment, a place in a world that felt so wild and unpredictable.
— A girl with a magic book and a body full of wounds. A depiction that brings back bitter memories. She remembers how hard she fought not only to save herself but also her loved ones.
— A teenager who fled from the magic academy after burning the experimental room. Rinoa smiles bitterly, the memory of her escape and difficult decisions seeping through as she recalls how she struggled against the system and the advantages cloaked in destructive arrogance.
— An Avatar shining magnificently, yet with empty eyes, depicting hope that is beginning to fade. She wants to be a light for this world, but is constantly pulled to forget what has already passed.
C mirrors tremble. Rinoa's voice echoes in the realm of invisible beings, something within her resonates with that vibration. "Who am I?" she asks herself, trying to reconcile all the versions in the mirrors. "What do you want to become?"
"These mirrors are you," a faint voice resounds in her mind, deepening her inquiry. She does not want to lose all facets of her soul, yet that thought feels like nothing more than a hollow hope amid the darkness.
— A girl with a book of magic and a body full of wounds.
— A teenager who fled from the magic academy after burning the experimental room.
— A majestic Avatar, yet its eyes are vacant and lacking the spark of life.
The mirrors trembled.
One by one, versions of herself emerged from the mirrors and surrounded her. They did not attack.
Instead, they spoke.
"Why do you always want to be the version that is loved by others?"
"What will you do if Fitran hates you?"
"Can you love yourself… without the world?"
Rinoa bit her lip. Her hands clenched.
Yet she did not retreat. The whispers from the mirrors formed an enchanting symphony, creating chaos in her mind. The cold scent of water around her carried a touch of sweat and sadness. The universe surrounding the mirrors seemed to vibrate, as if it understood every unspoken question. In the darkness of that small space, the shadows of her past radiated a faint light of hope, challenging the uncertainty.
"I don't know the answer," she whispered. "But I am here to find what remains of my true self."
The mirror began to crack.
One by one.
The path behind her opened up. Rinoa felt her spirit lift, even as worry enveloped her heart. Each crack in the mirror's surface seemed to unveil a piece of herself that had been lost, creating space for new potential to emerge. The magical energy that flowed around her felt ablaze, waiting to be unleashed. She remembered all the dreams and hopes that had been dashed—and now, it was time to mend everything.
Then,
Fitran and Rinoa reunited in the middle of the lake of light.
They did not speak.
But their eyes communicated wounds that needed no further explanation. The lake glimmered brightly, its water crystal-clear, reflecting the starry night sky. The atmosphere around them was filled with tranquility, yet there were rustling leaves and whispers of wind carrying messages from the outside world. Amidst the mystical scenery, Fitran felt a pressure in his chest, a deep sorrow over the difficult choices that lay ahead.
In the middle of the lake, a figure draped in black emerged—its face absent, revealing only a pair of glowing gray eyes. The figure seemed like a living darkness, exuding an aura that was both terrifying and alluring. Fitran struggled to remain calm, yet the tension could be felt pulsing between them. "What do you want from us?" he asked, his voice humming softly in the air.
"You have revealed who you are, and have not turned away."
"But… remember this: the closer you get to Gamma, the more you will lose the world you once knew."
Fitran took a step forward. Around them, the light from the lake reflected off the figure's robe, creating confusing patterns on the water's surface. Here, between night and hope, they had to find the strength to keep moving. The cold bite of the night added a thousand questions in his mind about the meaning of existence and what could disappear in a search that might never return. With wonder, Fitran gazed at Rinoa, who seemed to be inspired by a burning spirit, hoping that hope could manifest into something tangible.
"You have revealed who you are, and have not turned away."
"But… remember this: the closer you get to Gamma, the deeper you will lose the world you once knew."
Fitran took a step forward. As his foot gently struck the shimmering surface of the water, small waves formed around his feet. The air around them felt cold, and a strange aroma of leaves and water blended together, creating a mysterious atmosphere. He felt a tension creeping up his body, as if the universe was waiting for something monumental to happen.
"If we lose the world but not each other, we are ready."
The figure nodded. As it vanished into the lake, the atmosphere suddenly grew quieter, although the sound of an erratic heartbeat echoed around them. Fitran watched Rinoa. Her skin shimmered softly under the moonlight, but there was a wave of anxiety reflected in her gaze. Rinoa was a light in the darkness, and he vowed not to let her fade away.
Then, as it dissolved into the lake, it left behind a small stone floating. The stone maintained a vibration, as if holding a larger secret within. Rinoa picked it up, and as her hand touched its surface, the vibration flowed into her, as if listening to a voice only understood by a sincere heart.
On its surface, one word was inscribed in Proto-Speech:
"Mirael" – The One Who Remembers with Honesty.
As they returned to the main room of the Stones, the echo of their footsteps resonated in the oppressive silence. The stone in Rinoa's hand melded seamlessly with the walls. A faint crackling sound echoed as the ancient mechanism turned slowly, as if recalling long-forgotten stories.
The third door—Wound—opened.
From the gaping crevice emerged a blend of iron and incense, evoking memories of thrilling battles and palpable tension. It felt as though a historian whispered forgotten secrets, and the muffled sound of an unsteady heartbeat heightened the tension in the atmosphere. Every heart beat wildly, not only theirs but also that of a larger world, awaiting the revelation of their fate.
Fitran turned to Rinoa. "Are you ready?" he asked, his tone filled with seriousness. Each word felt like a spell protecting them from the darkness that might emerge.
"The next wound… may not be ours, but that of the world."
Rinoa nodded, her eyes soft yet resolute. In that gaze, he saw unwavering courage and a love that would guide them through the darkness. In his heart, he meticulously planned each step forward, aware that their journey would only grow more profound.
"If we cannot heal that wound, at least… we can bear it together."
They stepped towards the third door, with steps that sought no longer for answers,
but rather prepared to bear it. With each step, Rinoa felt the numbers of fate resonating. A sense of hope began to flow between them, intertwining with anxiety—creating a symphony of emotions that would be carried into the unknown world.
In an instant, they transcended the boundaries of the ordinary world, plunging into thick darkness, where the magical aura surrounding them offered a new sensation. The walls adorned with ancient symbols shimmered in the dim light. Each engraving felt like a touch from grand wizards who had left their mark here, waiting to be uncovered or embraced.
Fitran paused for a moment, examining every detail. "Rinoa, look!" he exclaimed, pointing excitedly at a symbol resembling a heart, encircled by a shape like the sun. "This might be their story, a tale lost to time," he added, visibly captivated. It felt as though he could sense the pulse of the past that lingered in this place.
Rinoa stepped closer, carefully touching the curved wall. "It's trying to reach out to us," she said with a smile. "Maybe we should learn from them? They have experienced all of this before us." The light made the space feel more alive, and Fitran sensed a comforting presence with her by his side.
Strange sounds began to echo in the room, as if the spiritual forms of ages past were whispering to one another. Fitran and Rinoa stood still, bound by a desire to understand. Why were they drawn to this place? Would they become bearers of the same story? Or were they merely fragments of a greater destiny?
They were willing to seek answers, ready to explore the layers of mystery wrapped within another dimension. With each other by their side, they felt stronger; in that darkness, a glimmer of hope emerged, an indomitable spirit.