'From the moment we draw our first breath on this earth, it sometimes feels like our lives are part of a story that was prewritten. That our birth is not mere coincidence, but rather, it serves a purpose—perhaps for ourselves, or perhaps for someone else's narrative.'
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"So, what happened then?" Zia asked, focusing on applying a sheet mask to her face.
"Then… I don't remember," Irene replied, casually scrolling through her phone while leaning against the headboard.
Zia frowned, turning toward her. "What do you mean you don't remember? Did someone hit you on the head or something?"
Irene sighed and nodded slightly. "Yeah, I felt like something hard hit my head. When I applied the antiseptic cream, I heard a loud thunder. I think it rained there. Then… everything went blank."
Zia walked over to the bed and sat beside her, her voice laced with concern and curiosity. "And?"
She shrugged. "I woke up the next morning in the same spot, lying in the dusty living hall. I guess it was just dehydration or something."
Zia's expression turned incredulous. "The heck, Irene! You're talking about passing out in an abandoned palace, in the middle of nowhere, on top of a mountain, in a forest, at midnight! You can't just brush it off like that."
Irene rolled her eyes, still scrolling. "Oh, come on, Zia. Shut up, it's nothing. I'm right here in front of you, so clearly I can handle myself."
Zia snatched the phone from her hand and glared at her. "I'm being serious here, and you're just mindlessly scrolling through your phone? What's going on, Irene?"
Irene frowned, puzzled. "The photos are missing. I took some pictures of the paintings in the palace… They weren't great because of the dust, but now they're just gone."
Zia handed her phone back. "Maybe you deleted them by accident?"
She shook her head, pouting slightly. "No way. I wanted to use them for my vlog. And to make things worse, I lost the camera too."
Zia's eyes widened. "You lost the camera?"
"Yeah. On the way back from the palace, I tripped and it fell somewhere. I searched for it, but couldn't find it."
Zia sat still for a moment, staring at the wall as her thoughts drifted. Then she looked at irene, who was now furiously scrolling through her phone, trying to retrieve the missing photos.
"Irene..." Zia called softly, drawing her attention.
"Hmm? What?" She asked, still focused on her phone.
"Don't you think it's strange?" Zia asked, her voice low and thoughtful.
Irene raised an eyebrow. "What's strange?"
Zia leaned in slightly. "Everything that happened. You passed out. Now your photos are gone. It's like… something weird is going on."
Irene gave her a skeptical look. "You're not going to start with your conspiracy theory stuff again, are you?"
Zia's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I'm just saying, it's a lot of coincidences. Don't you think it's worth looking into?"
Irene sighed, shaking her head. "Zii, sometimes you think too much."
Zia took a deep breath. "I know you. Your main reason for doing travel vlogs in abandoned places is to prove there's nothing supernatural in this world. But don't you think this time is… different?"
Her expression shifted slightly. Her eyes narrowed as she considered zia's words. "Different how?" she asked, her voice now carrying a trace of curiosity.
Zia leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Think about it. You visit this old, abandoned palace, and something strange happens. You feel like something hit you, then you pass out. Now the photos are gone, and the camera is missing. It's like… something doesn't want you to have evidence."
Irene raised an eyebrow, a half-smile tugging at her lips. "You're not seriously suggesting the palace is haunted, are you?"
Zia grasped irene's hands, her voice filled with concern. "I know you never listen, but please be careful, you stubborn mule."
With that, Zia stood and headed to the washroom.
Irene frowned slightly, watching her go. Zia's words echoed in her mind. Something didn't sit right, no matter how hard she tried to shake it off. She stared at her phone, scrolling back and forth, trying to make sense of the missing files.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden ringing of her phone. She blinked and smiled when she saw the caller ID.
"Hey!" she greeted, stepping out onto the balcony with the phone pressed to her ear. It was her brother calling, and soon her laughter rang out into the night.
But she didn't notice the shadow standing silently on the rooftop across from her - a tall, winged figure, eyes gleaming under the moonlight, watching her every move with a haunting stillness.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Zia returned from the washroom and glanced toward the balcony where Irene was still chatting and laughing. Carefully, and without drawing attention to herself, she walked to her cupboard and slid open the doors.
Behind the rows of hanging dresses, almost hidden from view, was a small keyhole carved into the wooden panel. She reached into the pocket of an old shirt and pulled out a tiny key, her fingers trembling just slightly.
She fit the key into the lock and turned it.
With a soft click, a small drawer opened, revealing a book.
Its cover was dark brown and made of aged leather, engraved with an intricately carved wooden wing. Zia stared at it for a moment, taking a deep breath as if bracing herself for something.
She pulled the book out slowly, feeling its weight. It was more than just paper and ink... it was history. It was a secret she had kept even from Irene.
As she opened it to the middle, her eyes scanned the worn pages, stopping at one line that stood out in bold, almost glowing script:
"THE BEGINNING OF TALES TO HER DESTINY."
A chill ran down her spine.
Outside, Irene's laughter floated in again, a carefree sound that sharply contrasted with the heavy silence in Zia's room.
But Zia didn't look up. Her eyes remained locked on the page, her thoughts tangled in questions and foreboding.
Something was beginning.
And she feared it had already begun.
[To be continued]
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