—It would be incredible... perhaps Ergos will manage to communicate with the gods.
—Really?! —exclaimed Rinn, jumping off the bed.
—Of course... Ergos always comes for girls who behave well.
She turned slowly. Her eyes fixed on mine with that hardness she only showed when something ceased to be a game.
—Little brother... I'm not a little girl anymore —she said, without blinking.
—And you shouldn't keep treating me like I am.
A dry laugh escaped me, like a scrape without echo.
—It was just a joke...
Rinn didn't respond. Her silence was crueler than any complaint. Her gaze remained fixed a second longer, as if trying to calculate something she could no longer find in me. Then, without drama, she turned around leaving the book on the shelf.
—The next time you make a joke. —she clarified with a firm voice—. Say it with that intention.
Those words froze my blood. Her steps creaked on the floor, too slowly, as if she were taking with her something more than her presence.
The book she had left on the shelf was still barely trembling, as if it still felt the warmth of her fingers.
She stopped in front of the door. She opened it carefully, without making noise. But the click when closing it echoed like a slam.
I stood there, motionless, looking at the space where she had been, as if her silhouette were still drawn in the air.
"The next time you make a joke. Say it with that intention." That phrase now ran through my bones like a piercing cold.
I ran my hand slowly across my face, from forehead to chin, as if trying to recognize myself by touch. Then I brought my fingers to my still damp hair, pulling at it.
—Ouch —I whispered, managing to feel something.
I looked at the bed, still with Rinn's warmth. I lay down on it. Her warmth chilled.
The bed creaked under my weight; the springs protested, as if they too were uncomfortable with me.
The walls were too still. And the silence extended without permission, covering everything, even my breathing. An endless pause, broken only by the friction of my thoughts and the water drying on my neck.
Lee's voice echoed in my mind:
"Remember that lies hurt more when you tell them for yourself."
—I wish I hadn't said anything...
My eyes returned to the legend. Rinn never finished it... perhaps because she didn't understand what it really said.
Being the champion of the prophecy is not the honorable destiny one would expect... it's losing humanity. It's giving up everything. It's becoming the martyr of an envious god.
A Keno...
I never understood why Seyl predicted that. She wasn't one of the main voices of Threedial.
Not like Lin, whose orders impose themselves even in chaos. Nor like Polen, who rewards the simple act of feeling. And much less like Edgar, whose strength creates order.
Seyl was always on the margins. A shadow with its own morality, mentioned in ancient and half-forgotten texts. And yet... it was her. The only one who spoke. The only one who prophesied the beginning of the Fracture. A warning that everyone took seriously. And that still hasn't been fulfilled.
It's ironic. The goddess of destiny... prophesying a lie.
But even if it is...
"I would rather die than follow such a destiny."
I left the comfort of the bed, leaning in front of the old drawer. My fingers brushed the splintered wood, feeling every scar of time.
I took the golden knob, and firmly pulled it. The creak of the hinges tore through the silence, harsh and persistent, like a rusty scream that refused to die.
"What irony," I thought as I bit my tongue.
I chose my clothes with the same delicacy as a dance, dressing without tearing my tranquility.
And then, I saw it. At the bottom of the drawer, under a white shirt, covered in dust: the small Threedial faith necklace.
It wasn't valuable. It wasn't pretty. But for me... it was everything.
The first gift Rinn gave me, made with her own hands. The braided thread was beginning to unravel at the edges, the central stone had a crack.
But it still resisted.
Like her. Like me.
I took it carefully, almost with guilt, and tied it around my neck, like embracing a broken promise. Not because I believed, but because she did. Because, in her innocence, she still saw me as someone worthy of faith. And maybe, just maybe, if I wore it close to my chest, some of that faith might reach me.
—Edgar... god of strength and will —I whispered, with my voice barely sustained by my throat—. I don't ask for miracles. Just give me the strength to continue, to not fall in front of her, to carry this truth one more day.
I sighed deeply, as if I could at least exhale a part of the weight that was sinking me. With a grimace that barely resembled a smile, I opened the door and left the room.
—Guess what, Rinn? —I said, pretending an animated tone—. Dad called me and said he would arrive later.
She jumped from the sofa. Running towards me with a sparkle in her eyes.
—Really?! —she exclaimed, clinging to my shirt with her small hands—. Can I talk to him?
Her voice trembled with each word. I crouched down to her height and gave her a serene smile, although my lips trembled as I did so.
—He told me just before boarding the flight. They must be on their way now.
Her eyes shone with the promise of a hope I couldn't fulfill. A faint moisture appeared at the edges of her eyelids.
—But I... I...
I could feel it: all the pain she contained was about to burst. And I... I couldn't do anything.
—Don't be sad, Rinn... very soon you'll meet them, I promise.
—Yes... —she stammered, lowering her gaze.
With tenderness, I ruffled her hair. A small gesture. An attempt to hold on to the little I had left.
—I'm going to see Mian. I'll be back later.
Rinn frowned. Something in my tone made her suspicious.
—But, why?
I raised my hand in a playful gesture.
—It's a surprise.
I left no room for more questions. I turned and closed the door with a slight tap.
Only then, on the other side, could I release a bit of the knot in my chest. I leaned against the door. Closed my eyes. Tried to breathe.
And then, from inside, the sweet and delicate voice of my sister made itself heard.
The melody was soft, like a thread of light. Each note, each word, pierced my chest like a stab.
---
"Today dad comes, today mom comes,
The wind said so as it passed.
Together with little brother, we will dance,
With the table set, they will embrace us.
---
I've put on my ribbons, I've tidied the sofa,
I drew their faces so I won't forget.
I sang softly, in case they want to arrive,
And even if they don't come... I'll wait for them.
---
Because if I smile, maybe they'll see me,
And if we don't cry, maybe they'll return.
Today dad comes, today mom comes...
Even if in my dream... they won't fail me."
---
I remained silent, with Rinn's melody floating in the air. Each syllable sank deep into my chest.
Questions bounced relentlessly in my mind.
Were my actions really the right ones?
My jaw clenched. I wanted to go in, hug her, tell her the truth, let it all out, take this weight off my chest, free myself at last.
But... I can't.
The door supported my body with such firmness that it seemed to replace my own muscles. My mind screamed to act, but I didn't respond.
I began to move away. Each note in Rinn's voice became more distant.
My body was moving away, leaving behind everything that sustained me. I didn't yearn for truth, just a truce, a warm corner where I could hide cowardice and rename it as rest.
I started down the stairs. A coward... nothing more than that.
I needed help, needed to understand myself.
I took out my cell phone with trembling hands. I wasn't writing a message. I was writing a scream disguised as words. Sending it to Mian:
"Meet me at the plaza."
The response came almost instantly:
"Are you ready to talk?"
A knot closed in my throat, making each breath difficult.
"Meet me at the plaza."