The beginning of a beautiful story.

I always wondered how I would write my story in a diary. I’m not quite sure how to begin… Well, on a not-so-beautiful day, I, Akiko, was crying in my small cabin far from a tiny village in the capital city of Siberia. I was making an important decision, and then, to “clear my mind,” I left my cabin and started walking.

For many days, I went without eating or drinking (I was very weak), until I sensed a faint mana. Probably the user was performing magic. Then I found a beautiful woman, apparently around 30 years old. She was training magic but wasn’t succeeding.

I sat down and watched the human. Seeing her made me realize our differences — she, with a short life that was probably already halfway through, and I, an elf who could live up to 3,000 years or even more, yet with no desire to live at all.

I was lost in thought until, without me noticing, she brought me a cup of coffee and some cookies. Not knowing how to thank her, I bowed slightly, timidly indicating a “thank you,” and drank the coffee. She continued her training. I wanted to say something, but I had no strength for it. My head was aching, my feet were sore, and I ended up fainting.

When I woke up, I was in a simple, slightly messy, yet cozy house (I was lying in a bed). Then I saw the woman again. She came closer and said:

“Hi, I’m Camila. Nice to meet you. You remind me of my daughter. She had long, blonde hair — not as light as yours (Akiko’s hair was white) — with skin a bit more tanned than yours, and she also loved wearing long clothes.”

From her apparently sad expression, I assumed the girl had either died or was in a very bad condition. I simply replied, “I’m sorry.” I wanted to say more, but I’m someone who can’t speak much. She replied with a slightly scolding tone:

“Where are your parents? Are you okay? You shouldn’t be walking alone. Well, that’s how…”

Almost crying, she said: “I’m sorry for getting emotional, but sh-she didn’t deserve this. Seeing you reminds me of her. I don’t know why it had to happen.”

I, deep in thought, accidentally replied:

“People come and go. So why keep going and making an effort if the end is the same? Death is certain, and painful for those who die and those who remain. So, what’s the meaning of life?”

With a beautiful smile, an expression of surprise, and tears rolling down her face, she said:

“I’m not sure about that, and I couldn’t answer for you. But… I don’t know the reason either.”

She hugged me, and I couldn’t bring myself to ask her to stop. Even though I felt a bit uncomfortable at first, I started feeling a sense of comfort. Then she said, “I’m sorry,” and I responded by gently patting her head.

From that day on, I started living in her house, helping her with magic, without realizing I was growing attached to her. She took me in, and I felt as if she were my mother.

After a year, we decided to search for the answer together. We became travelers, going everywhere, training magic, and studying a lot. She helped me learn to speak better because I used to stutter or simply didn’t know the meaning of many words. No one ever visited me in my cabin, so I had been alone.

Over time, I lost the habit of studying until exhaustion because she would get angry with me. I defeated weak demons and dragons. She chose an owl as her familiar. She taught me to fight without magic so I could protect myself, even if I didn’t need it.

We visited many libraries. In that time, she realized I didn’t like people, and I realized she had a fear of demons. We were different yet similar — we both carried similar traumas. She told me she was sick, but I thought she had gotten better.

We had beautiful and magical moments there, but I wish it had lasted longer because it went by so quickly. Seven years passed until one day she woke up very sick, so we decided to return to the village and her house.

When we were arriving, a demon appeared in the village. I was going to ignore it, but she told me to help the people fighting it (she was asking me to defeat it — I wouldn’t have done it, but since she asked…). So I went, defeated it, and we returned home.

Then she told me:

“I’m sorry for not being able to find the answer.”

I murmured quietly, “Why are you saying this?” She continued:

“I have a request. Please, become one of the 15 wise mages.”

“Well, what a simple request,” I muttered with irony.

I answered, “Alright, if that’s what you want,” still confused. She continued:

“Promise me you won’t give up on living…”

I replied, “Okay,” still not understanding anything, but I had a terrible feeling. She said:

“You know, back then, my youngest daughter died because of a demon, and I, a witch, couldn’t do anything. I’ll be eternally grateful that you spent your time teaching me magic. The time I spent with you was extremely special. Thank you…”

She was barely able to breathe from crying so much, so I tried to lighten the mood:

“Did you know I’m an elf?”

She replied, “Of course. Well, you haven’t changed at all, and about your ears — I won’t say anything. I want to ask you something: Do you love me?”

I answered, “Y-you are the most important person in my life!” I was crying too.

Then, with a calm expression, she hugged me and kissed me on the cheek, and said, “I-I l-o-v-e y-o-u,” with great difficulty — and died.

Final Notes

Sorry for the quality, this is my first book. (Demon attacks on villages were very common.)