Everything was white.
Vast, hollow, and endless.
No sky. No ground.
Only emptiness breathing slowly between the silence of time.
Auren opened her eyes, her eyelids heavy, as if she had just been born into a directionless space.
She looked around—no shadows, no shapes.
Everything floated within a haze of light that was too calm to be called alive.
"…Where am I?" her voice was faint, almost disappearing before it could become an echo.
No answer.
Only a silence that felt as if it was staring back.
She began to walk.
Her steps fell softly against the white surface—no sound, no direction.
Fear crept in slowly, cold like a breath crawling into her chest.
Then, amidst the stillness—
A voice emerged.
Soft, distant, yet clear.
Auren turned.
And there—two figures stood far away, shrouded in grey mist that moved like water.
Their faces were blurry, nearly unrecognizable.
Yet something in her chest trembled—as if she had known them once.
A feeling not born from memory, but from something deeper than that.
"…Who are you?" her voice shook, a blend of fear and a longing she did not understand.
The figures shifted slowly.
The mist around them pulsed, thickening like the heartbeat of a world beating too loudly.
Small whispers rose—layered voices without source, slicing through the once-still air.
"Choose…"
"Light…"
"Shadow…"
Auren stepped back. But the world around her moved with her, warping space like a cracked mirror.
She wanted to run, yet her body refused to listen.
Black fog surged, consuming the white entirely.
And before everything vanished—she saw them.
A pair of glowing red eyes.
Sharp, cleaving through the void.
The same gaze she had seen before she lost consciousness.
A crushing weight pressed down from every direction.
Her bones trembled, her mind nearly splitting apart.
And amidst the chaos, the same voice returned:
"You have stepped too far, Auren."
Then everything shattered—like glass thrown into nothingness.
---
Auren awoke with a sharp gasp.
Cold sweat trickled down her temples.
She looked around—
the same room, the place where she had collapsed earlier.
"…A nightmare," she whispered, staring at her lightly trembling fingers.
Yet the world outside the window remained unchanged:
the grey sky, the black forest in the distance, the air too cold to be called alive.
Everything looked the same—but her heart knew something was different.
She lowered her gaze.
The memory of Gravemor—the earth titan risen from its ancient slumber—flashed like a wound that hadn't healed.
And… Lucen.
He had vanished in the middle of the storm.
As Auren tried to steady herself, the door creaked open.
Someone stood at the doorway.
Noxen.
His eyes sharp, his voice low, carrying a chill unlike the air outside.
"Have you completely lost your mind?" he said, almost a restrained growl.
"How dare you leave before your time has come."
Auren lowered her head, her voice small.
"I… I'm sorry."
Silence thickened.
Between them, only the ticking of an old clock filled the room.
Noxen finally turned away, but before leaving he said flatly:
"Don't ever do that again. If you move before your time… even I won't know what will happen to you."
The door closed softly.
Silence returned.
Auren stared at it for a long time, trying to understand the meaning behind "your time" that Noxen had spoken of.
On the table beside her bed, two books lay: the Guidebook, and a black book filled with ancient symbols.
Auren stared at them for a long moment before taking a slow breath.
But as her fingers touched the Guidebook, a gentle light burst from within.
The pages turned on their own, revealing glowing words dancing in the air:
> "Two lights wait within the shadow.
One guides, one misleads.
Choose before darkness consumes—
for the one who hesitates… shall vanish without a name."
The words quivered softly, then faded like dust blown by the wind.
Auren closed her eyes—she no longer knew what was real and what wasn't.
Then another voice came.
Soft. Warm.
Too familiar.
"Do you feel better now, Auren?"
She turned.
Lucen stood there, leaning casually against the doorway, his smile far too calm for this world.
Auren looked sharply at him, her breath catching.
"Yes, I'm fine. Now move. I want to pass."
Lucen only smiled.
He stepped aside gently, then walked after her as she moved quickly past him.
"Where do you want to go this time?" he asked lightly.
Auren didn't answer.
But their steps fell in unison, and Lucen's voice returned—softer, deeper.
"I'm sorry… about what happened. I didn't expect Gravemor to awaken so soon."
Auren paused.
A chill ran down her spine.
She looked at Lucen with a blank expression.
"I don't care. Leave me alone."
Yet Lucen still smiled.
A warm smile that somehow felt… wrong.
"Do you still wish to explore the outside world?" he whispered, echoing through the castle corridor.
Auren turned slowly.
"Do you… still remember what happened out there?"
"Of course," Lucen replied gently. "But isn't the truth you seek still waiting out there as well?"
His tone was too calm, like light without warmth.
Auren looked down, unsure whether she could trust him.
Lucen added in a soothing tone,
"But… resting isn't wrong either. Moving without direction will only lead you astray."
Auren fell silent.
Her eyes were empty, yet turmoil swirled behind them—questions she couldn't turn into words.
At last, she said quietly,
"Maybe… I should go to the library."
Lucen smiled. "As it happens, I know the way."
They walked down the long, cold corridor together.
Candlelight flickered along the walls, casting long shadows that moved like unseen whispers.
Lucen walked slightly ahead—every step too light, too quiet.
When they reached the grand doors of the library,
a gust of wind seeped through the cracks, carrying the scent of dust and ancient time.
As the doors opened, a deep voice rumbled from the darkness inside.
"Prepare yourself, Auren.
For the path to truth
is not light—
but the shadow that leads you into it."
The wind stopped.
Candle flames died.
Auren stood at the threshold, eyes locked on the darkness within.
Lucen still stood behind her, his smile unchanged.
But for the first time,
Auren felt that the light coming from him…
no longer felt warm.