Four Years Ago
I was only trying to survive; fate forced me to save kingdoms.
Our village was hidden on the edge of a small lake. No news came from the outside world, nor did a sound from us ever reach anyone. Silence was the safest way to survive here. So, I stayed quiet. I didn't ask questions, I didn't draw attention. Yet, there was always a sense of wrongness inside me.
When the rain started, why was I the only one who didn't get wet?
Why did the snakes avoid only me?
And last month, when the storm broke… why did the wind suddenly stop when it heard my scream?
I didn't seek answers. Maybe because I was afraid. In these lands, being different often meant not surviving.
But one day, someone came. His armor was as dark as night, his eyes cold as frost. He studied me and said:
"You… you don't know what you are yet. But soon, you will remember."
At that moment, I realized: silence could not hide me forever.
---
Present Day
When that man appeared in my dreams, just for a moment, like a fleeting vision, vanishing as if he were only a figment of my imagination, I had a feeling he would return.
Who was that man? And what did he mean?
Our country was at war with Aetherra. It was so dark, so desolate, that it hardly felt like war. We only observed them, like looking at a puzzle.
No one had real knowledge about Aetherra. Our country's navy strictly prohibited any form of smuggling; no one came from Aetherra to our lands. All we had were vague tales we'd heard since childhood.
Some said they were magical, some called them sorcerers, and some insisted they were all frauds.
Even if I couldn't make sense of these stories, I felt something tied me to that place…
The war had progressed, yet there was still no response from Aetherra. They seemed cornered, perhaps the victory was ours.
The old wooden chair in front of our house still creaked. Whenever I returned along the village path, the same silhouette was always there: a slender shoulder, a body wrapped in a wool sweater, a cane resting on the lap.
And the eyes… as if frozen on a road they could never fully see, yet always searching…
Today was no different.
"Nene?" I approached slowly.
She didn't lift her head at first, then asked:
"Who… who are you?"
I smiled. Ah, Edda. It had begun again.
"I'm Elira, Nene. As always."
Her cane shifted lightly on her knees.
"My goodness… were you Elira?"
She squinted.
"No… that was when you were younger. Your hair wasn't like this then."
I crouched beside her, holding her hands. Her fingers were delicate, yet still warm.
"I've grown, Nene," I said softly. "Since I started staying with you, maybe I've grown faster."
"Alright… what do you do, girl?"
She asked again. "What work do you do?"
I had lost count of how many times I had answered this. Yet, each time my heart ached, and my voice always answered with the same softness.
"I gather herbs. I help Hela Nine. Sometimes I go to the mountains. We make remedies for people's wounds."
"To the mountains? Alone?"
"Alone."
"How? What if you encounter wolves?"
"I did encounter them."
I looked into her eyes at that moment.
"They ran away."
Edda tilted her head, eyes wide.
"They ran away? From you?"
I nodded slowly.
"There's something strange about you, Elira. You were like this as a child too. Even when silent, the wind noticed you…"
She nodded, then tapped her cane on the ground, murmuring:
"Have I ever told you? You were born under the moonlight. That night, the stars whispered something to your forehead. As if your fate was written there…"
"Yes, Nene," I said quietly.
"But I don't remember that night."
Yet…
Sometimes in my dreams, the stars still whispered my name.