The morning sun cast golden hues over the rolling hills, painting the sky in delicate strokes of orange and lavender. A gentle breeze stirred the tall grass, whispering secrets only the wind could understand. Birds chirped cheerfully in the distance, unaware of the sorrow resting atop the highest hill.
There, at the edge of a steep cliff, a boy lay curled on the grass, staring into the vast sky. His eyes— deep ocean blue—opened slowly, reflecting both the beauty of the morning and the pain buried in his heart.
His name was Elijah. Nearly ten years old, yet his gaze held the weariness of someone much older.
"I don't belong here," he muttered to himself.
His voice carried no emotion—just an empty echo of a soul that had been pushed too far. Elijah sat up, his small frame trembling, not from the cold but from everything he carried inside.
"I'm an orphan," he whispered. "My real parents threw me away like I was nothing."
He clenched his fists.
"The ones who adopted me… they didn't want me either. They treat me like trash. Like a burden. They shout. They hit. They wish I was never born."
His breathing grew heavy. The light in his eyes dimmed.
"Why…?" he cried. "Why give me life just to curse it? Why didn't you just let me die?"
The sky above began to shift. Gray clouds crept in, swallowing the morning sun. A single drop of rain fell onto his cheek, followed by another. Soon, the hill was wrapped in a quiet, gentle shower.
Elijah stood at the edge, his soaked clothes clinging to his body. He looked down the cliff below, a sea of rocks and mist waiting in silence.
"I don't want this pain anymore," he said to no one. "If this is all life has to give… then I'll return it."
He took a step forward.
But just as his foot hovered over the edge, everything froze.
Literally.
The rain stopped mid-air. Each droplet hung suspended like fragile glass beads. The wind stilled. Even the birds fell silent. Time itself seemed to hold its breath.
Then—
A voice.
Smooth. Calm. Ancient.
"You were never meant to end here."
Elijah turned sharply. Behind him stood a man—tall, with a strong presence that made the air feel heavier. His beard was streaked with white and black, his long hair tied loosely behind him. His eyes gleamed like distant stars, as if they had seen the truth about the world.
The man smiled faintly. "You've seen too much sorrow for someone so young."
Elijah said nothing, surprised, confused and guarded.
The man stepped closer, his tone gentle.
"My name is Alaric. I've been watching you… and I know your pain. But your story isn't meant to end on this hill."
Elijah frowned. "Why do you care?"
Alaric didn't answer immediately. He turned toward the distant mountains, his eyes narrowing as if remembering something.
"Because once… you are special."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, silver ticket. "If you wish to change your fate, meet me at the station."
Elijah hesitated, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotion.
Alaric turned to leave, his cloak billowing behind him. "I'll wait. But only once."
And with that, he vanished into the mist.
Time resumed.
The rain splashed down again, cold and sharp against Elijah's skin. The birds began to sing once more, as if nothing had happened.
But everything had changed.
Elijah stood alone at the edge—not ready to fall, but not ready to move either.
He stared into the rain, the silver ticket clutched tightly in his hand.