Scene 130 — "A Stranger They Chose to Carry"
The silver flowers swayed quietly.
The hidden world had returned to its gentle silence.
Only the three siblings disturbed it.
The brother knelt beside the unconscious traveler.
He slid one arm beneath the stranger's shoulders.
The elder sister supported his legs.
"Ready?"
The brother nodded.
Together—
they lifted.
The weight surprised both of them.
The traveler was not impossibly heavy.
But he was far heavier than his lean frame suggested.
The brother gritted his teeth.
"...How does someone this thin weigh so much?"
The younger girl folded her arms.
"I told you."
Neither answered.
Step by careful step, they began walking.
The silver flowers bent beneath their feet.
The traveler never stirred.
His breathing remained slow.
Weak.
Steady.
The wound upon his chest remained unchanged.
The elder sister glanced down at it again.
It still looked fatal.
Every instinct told her he should not be alive.
Yet his heartbeat continued.
Slowly.
Patiently.
As though refusing to surrender.
The narrow trail wound between crystal trees.
The brother adjusted his grip.
The movement caused the traveler's hood to shift.
Only slightly.
A lock of white hair slipped free.
Then the hood slid back just enough to uncover part of his face.
The younger girl noticed first.
"...Wait."
The others stopped.
All three looked down.
For the first time—
they saw him clearly.
His features were calm despite the dried blood.
His skin was pale from exhaustion.
Long white hair framed a face that looked unexpectedly young.
Not much older than the brother.
There was nothing frightening about him.
Nothing monstrous.
Nothing divine.
Only the face of an injured human who had endured far more than anyone should.
The younger girl blinked.
"...He's younger than I thought."
The brother nodded slowly.
"I expected someone older."
The elder sister remained quiet.
She studied his face for several moments.
Searching for something unusual.
Finding nothing.
Just a wounded stranger.
A human.
One carrying scars they could not explain.
She gently pulled the hood back into place.
"The wind is getting colder."
The fabric settled over his face once more.
The traveler never opened his eyes.
Never reacted.
The three siblings resumed walking.
The crystal forest whispered around them.
The silver fields stretched behind.
Far in the distance, the place where he had fallen slowly disappeared from view.
None of them noticed—
beneath the traveler's closed eyelids—
his eyes moved slightly.
Not waking.
Dreaming.
Somewhere beyond consciousness, a throne of black obsidian waited in endless silence.
And a voice, colder than winter itself, spoke only one word.
"Lord."
The traveler did not answer.
He continued sleeping.
Unaware that with every step the siblings took—
his path was carrying him toward a fate none of them could yet imagine.