~ ⋆˙⟡ 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝑻𝒘𝒐 𓆩⟡𓆪 𝑪𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅 ⟡˙⋆~

When Erist, the first month of cold, had passed, grandfather took me to the village, for the Cabin could no longer support us in the upcoming blizzards. He was stronger than I assumed, able to bear my weight on his shoulders. We met with the innkeeper, whom he slid two silver coins to, yet was handed back one.

There were many who came at the same time as us, and we were welcomed to an informal banquet. Silver bells chimed outside the hall, a tradition to welcome snow. Assortments of meat and fruit-based desserts lined down a white table in celebration of the passing year, steam drifting off their plates. The seating had been sorted into groups - mostly returning adventurers and their families or those under the same denomination of church. A jolly red-cheeked man in white robes toasted us at the forefront. Next to him, beings in similar attire scolded his drunkenness, though hiding smiles of his antics. The grass-haired woman’s ears were pointed, a similar shape to the grey horns of the one beside her.

Afterwards we looked through shops, as the stalls had begun to close for the season. I was bought a few sets of clothes, as well as colorful animals folded from paper as decor for my room. Additionally, I was given a trinket with a sun symbol by the innkeeper upon our return, “To ward off monsters.”

The innkeeper and the tavern head were the same person, as the entire building was divided into three layers, including the basement floor. The inn was on the second, hidden behind a curtain made to blend into the wall. What was much more interesting though, was the pathway to the basement.

The keeper told us of the secret when we paid for our rooms. Under the yellow table in one of the tavern's corners was a large tile that lifted when knocked on. She said she read it in a book, and pleaded with a passing wizard to make it happen. Consequently, the wooden tile became alive and was encrypted with a set of instructions for life. And naturally, it also became grumpy when it had to hold up furniture, and would throw them off itself.

I wonder if she had anticipated the free entertainment from her financial genius, for it was incredibly awkward leaning over to knock on the floor to find a “secret” passageway, even if nearly everyone already knew of this. At times it wouldn’t open, and you had to wake it up by offering alcohol or a silly nursery rhyme. Sometimes an impatient visitor would simply knock harder, to which it revolted by opening up briefly and shutting itself when the person was halfway in.

Down the passage led to an underground library, stocked with blankets and wool and other hides. A large cat stared suspiciously, as if judging the covers people chose. Beginner Hypnosis Magic, How to Summon a Demon King, Top 10 Scariest Places on Exona.

I asked for his recommendation, and received two books: Eidolon of Mana, and Records of Skybreaking. The former contained the principle theories of inner-mana and could be applied to any first-tier magic, and it began like this: “Exona, the philosopher the world was named after. He who sought the edge of the world during the era of darkness. The one who derailed the most from fate and recognized that the world was an entity. Exona, the reincarnated world.”  

Though it also explained up to 80th-tier magic, or at least tried. The latter held stories of battles and tragedies, humanity's greatest achievements and sacrifices, which was much more fascinating to a child than diagrams.

[I saw you through the eyes of the saintess. I watched your first attempt at flight, your head hitting the ceiling. Then you ran, ecstatic, believing that you were the castor. On the way upstairs, you patted constantly at your side, checking for the presence of your two new treasures.]

I fell asleep, my fingers tracing the lining of the words, which didn’t quite feel like ink. The rest of winter would be spent this way, acquiring new knowledge. Sometimes grandfather came to teach me about the world through picture books, and a part of me debated telling him I could always read, but I liked it this way.

…Lifted by playful zephyrs, I floated, almost touching the tails of clouds. A gleaming sapphire made up the sky, and I thought, “It’s blinking at me.” - in a dream

When snow turned into morning dew, we moved back. I’d made a friend by then, bonded over the books I shared, which happened to not be owned by the library.

The cat was utterly puzzled when I insisted on returning them to him, thinking I was either running a prank or mentally challenged in some way. He claimed to have never let me borrow the books and waved me off.

Noting my routine, grandfather had begun selling his catches to extend our stay at the inn. For our new morning ritual, I followed him through the trees and onto the trail leading to the village, where he roamed the market and talked with long-lived friends while I suspiciously met with my new companion at the tavern’s basement library.

When the sky began to dim and the markets closed their stalls, we went back to the cabin.

One of these days I came back with a wreath of flowers on my head. My grandpa, quick-witted and tentative to the brighter shade on my face, asked fawningly, “What color was her hair?” “How tall was she?” “What did she sound like?” The same he would’ve asked if he’d met her in person, for he had failing eyes.

I pointed at the sun, hovered a hand at my shoulder, then pointed at his face. He looked confused at the last gesture, probably thinking she sounded old, but I had meant she sounded gentle. I tried correcting the thought by pointing at fruit so he’d at least think she sounded sweet. Instead of a response, he chuckled.

Soon, my hair fell onto my shoulders, a smooth mint. By this time, she’d come over, and she played the harmonica by the river where little balls of floating light danced. At night she took my wrist and ran into the woods, her other hand leading with a blue flame. Her wavy hair, free as wind, caressed my arm. In that moment, chasing the stars with glowing bugs cheering us on, she had my adoration.

When the shadows of the trees began to coat the world and the white of the moon peered through the crevices of the leaves, I closed my eyes, my footsteps guided by a melodic laughter. Previously, I was happy to toss my head underneath blanket covers, reading excerpts of ancient tales under the light of a candle. During the darkest days of snow, I had the special treat of a music box, rented for numerous nights on end. Now quiet wasn’t as dreamy as it used to be, and I dreamed of a more lively peace.

She stopped, falling backwards and taking me with her. The milky glow of the moon streamed down my face.

It was a circular meadow, enclosed by a spiral of prismatic rocks. Looking upwards at the walls, it felt as if I’d tumbled down numerous flights of stairs. Above the walls were more trees, a further continuation of the forest. But this place was absent of them, reserved for something else.

Nostalgia. A human feeling took root in the soil and made its nest, stuck in time. A will that was able to overwrite the world’s in this small opening. It was a thought that I debated being my own. Before the uneasiness of the thought grew, I was interrupted by fingertips brushing behind my ear, leaving a gift of delicate petals. Tilting back, behind my forehead, she was smiling at me. Her pupils cloudless, veiling a deep, white abyss. The same purple petals were in her messy hair, like miniature ornaments decorating celestial branches.

[To have derailed from the life you first sought. At the same time, you’ve never looked at the sky more radiantly. Before you were born you yearned to be an adventurer. In another life, under a different fate, be married. But as Entiel, live our dream.]

Living creatures are classified into a “size class,” the rank order being: Akin < Ashen/Dormae < Humanoid < Anthu/Dormaul < Colossals < Monoliths < Behemoths < Apocalyptic/Calamities < Astral Borne. The first seven tiers are expressed by an incomplete clockwise octagon, with the number of drawn sides correlating to the tier of the creature. Calamities are represented by a complete octagon, and Astral Borne each have a unique symbol inside their full octagon, compared to the rest of the tiers. A danger classification is then given based off a star rating, usually of 1-5, with exceptions starting from Colossal creatures. It may be important to note for comparison, most dragonkin belong in the Colossal class. Within the first few classes exist subclasses, such as distinguishing an ant from a crab, and fairy souls that shift their appearances.

The same "species" of Astral Borne will never exist in history twice, and there will only be one individual of its kind.