The night wraps the village in an almost unreal silence. The lamps hanging from the posts cast a flickering orange glow, throwing dancing shadows across the uneven cobblestones. I walk alone, my footsteps softly echoing against the stone walls of the old houses. The air is cool, carrying the scent of wet wood and wild herbs lining the narrow streets. At this hour, the village seems frozen in time, yet every house, every shop tells me a story, as if I were once again a child discovering my world for the first time.
I think back to the evening. Zoé, her subtle smile, the way her eyes seemed to seek something in me… and me, unable to hide my own emotions. I can still feel the weight of her gaze, that strange tension between the familiarity of our memories and the distance imposed by our families and our shared past.
A particular memory surfaces. Last year, we were close, carefree. Our walks in the forest, afternoons laughing beneath the trees, the wind making the leaves dance and her dark hair flutter along with them. I remember the time she lost her scarf while running to catch a butterfly by the river. I had dashed through the forest to bring it back to her. Her face lighting up when I returned… that simple gesture was enough to deepen our bond.
And then there's Elton. I can still see myself facing him, the tension flaring the moment he discovered my relationship with Zoé. His words were venomous, his insults sharp: "You're nothing… you don't deserve someone like her." I tensed, my pride stung. But I didn't back down. I tried to respond, to show I wasn't weak. Our spells flew through the air, but I wasn't skilled enough. The defeat stung, yet I hadn't fallen without a fight. I remember the mix of anger and shame, blended with a silent determination.
I continue walking, my thoughts swinging between past and present. My future… what will it be? A blacksmith. That's the path my family has chosen for me, the one I know by heart, the one I've always followed without question. But is it truly what I want? Sometimes, I dream of elsewhere—distant cities, magic I haven't mastered yet, mysteries waiting to be explored. I wonder if life could be wider, richer, freer. Yet fear holds me back. Staying here has its comforts: my friends, my family, my home. A simple but comfortable life.
I pause for a moment on a wooden bridge overlooking the stream. The water reflects the lamps' light, flowing and calm. I watch the reflections; the world around me seems peaceful, yet a void stirs inside me. I want to leave, to see something else… and yet I have no idea what I might find.
My steps resume, slower now, almost meditative. I pass Patrick the baker's shop, closed at this hour, but I still remember the warmth of the oven and the smell of fresh bread. Wendy, the bird trainer, isn't around either, but I remember her birds flying curiously around me, light and free. The whole village breathes a quiet life, but this calm weighs on me. The routine, as sweet as it is, no longer suffices.
The memory of Zoé returns once more. Her distant yet attentive gaze, that conversation that seemed light but where every word mattered. I see her near Clara's window, the lanterns casting sparks across her face. Our hands brushed almost by accident, and I felt that strange warmth—a mixture of familiarity and desire for something we cannot have, not yet.
I keep walking, my thoughts growing darker, deeper. What will I become? Will I stay here as a blacksmith, or will I dare to cross the village borders, to see what the world truly has to offer? And if I leave, what will become of Zoé? And my friends? Everything that feels so familiar? Fear, nostalgia, hope—all swirl inside me, a whirlwind I cannot
Eventually, I reach my house. The massive wooden door is cold under my hand, but the inside feels welcoming. I drop my belongings, take off my jacket and shirt, still slightly wrinkled from the walk. I go into my room, a simple yet warm space, with shelves, miniature forge tools, and family mementos decorating the walls.
I slowly undress, brush my teeth, and take a hot shower. The water cascading over my skin seems to wash away part of my thoughts, yet my mind remains occupied. Once dried, I tidy my hair a little, put on light sleepwear, and lie down on my bed. I stare at the ceiling, enveloped in silence. The clock shows 1:30 a.m. The day ends, but my mind refuses to quiet down.
Around 3 a.m., I wake with a start. The room is plunged into a strange darkness, denser than usual nightfall. I blink, trying to understand. A sudden chill runs down my neck. I sit on the bed, surveying the contours of my room: everything seems normal, yet something is off. The silence is total, heavy. No whisper of wind, no sound at all. Everything feels suspended.
I get up and move toward the window. The cool air hits my face, but that's not what shocks me. The village… time is frozen. The lamps hanging from the posts are motionless, the leaves on the trees hang in midair, and an eerie stillness dominates the deserted streets. Not a single person is outside, no footsteps, no murmurs. Everything seems suspended in a perfect, unsettling instant.
I stand there, dumbfounded, unable to comprehend. No sound, no sign of life. A strange sensation runs through my body: a mix of awe, fear, and bewilderment. I try to blink, to tell myself it's just a dream… but everything is motionless, flawless, unreal.
I step back from the window, glancing at my room again. The light flickers slightly, as if the world itself is breathing softly, but outside… outside, time is frozen, cut off from all logic. I try to lie down again, but my heart beats too fast, my thoughts spin. Sleep is impossible.
I rise once more, gazing at the night that seems unreal. Everything is still. The lamps, the trees, the wind… nothing moves. I feel a strange tension, as if the world is holding its breath. My hands tremble slightly. Never have I seen anything like this.