Miradjinn

At eight, I became an Awakened, but my SEP was so weak it equalled that of a newborn. In the Aether, time flowed differently; years passed like seasons, each marked by rhythmic progress. By nine, I had mastered the basics of ruh in just three months of real-world time. At ten, I had already reached level 20 as an Awakened, while my body had aged only six months.

My ascent was swift, yet not without obstacles. At thirteen, I hit a wall, stagnating at the Adept rank for two long years. It's often in these moments of doubt that one hopes for a miracle, but reality is more nuanced.

At sixteen, anxious about my limitations, I grasped a fundamental truth: training alone is insufficient. Experience, acquired only through adversity, is key. By confronting three Elites simultaneously, I transcended my limits, attaining level 41 and the Elite rank myself.

Back in my original plane, I was a living paradox: ten years old physically, sixteen mentally, and endowed with power I deemed sufficient to face the world.

However, the true journey was just beginning. Their encounter changed everything. They taught me more than all my years of training, fostering growth in wisdom and maturity. Together, we bore the burden of the world's hatred, united in our quest.

Two years ago, I made the most difficult decision of my life: to shoulder alone the responsibility for our actions. A sacrifice for their freedom, so they could pursue their dreams unencumbered.

It was by their side that I truly understood what it meant to fight for one's life and ideals. With them, I devised the plan that would allow me to realise my dearest dream.

And it's thanks to them that I've become who I am today: a Master of level 61.

I open my eyes cautiously, my mind still foggy from memories of the explosion. Motionless, I assess my condition, expecting to feel the sting of intense burns and the searing pain of my broken back. Yet, to my great surprise, no suffering manifests.

Perplexed, I slowly move my limbs. Nothing. Not the slightest pain. How is this possible? The last thing I remember is violently striking a tree. So why am I lying on a comfortable bed?

My fingers brush my face, meeting the familiar surface of my mask. Sahara, loyal as ever, rests peacefully on my chest. My coat has vanished, but the rest of my attire remains almost intact.

A quick glance reveals a modest room: wooden ceiling, table, chair, small bookshelf, and a window filtering soft light. Who brought me here? And why?

"Sahara, wake up," I whisper gently.

My partner's ears perk up instantly. She opens her eyes, her gaze reflecting both joy and relief.

"Dad! Are you really alright?" she exclaims, her voice tinged with concern and relief.

"Yes, surprisingly well," I respond, still astonished myself. "What happened? I expected to be in a dreadful state."

"It's thanks to the girl!" Sahara exclaims enthusiastically, her eyes shining with excitement.

"A girl?" I frown, intrigued.

Before Sahara can tell me more, the door opens slowly. My body tenses instinctively, ready to react. But what I see leaves me speechless.

A young woman enters the room, and I feel my breath catch. Her platinum blonde hair delicately frames her face, with wispy bangs falling softly on her forehead. Two long braided strands descend on either side, tied with small ribbons, adding an elegant touch to her appearance.

Despite her evident beauty, her expression betrays a mix of curiosity and apprehension, adding a hint of vulnerability to her demeanour.

Around her neck gleams a delicate pendant, almost lifelike in its lavender form, subtly drawing my gaze.

But it's her eyes that truly astound me. Of a deep, enchanting purple, they defy all logic in this world where iris colour defines one's very existence.

Surprise is also evident in her gaze as she sees me sitting up on the bed. A silence laden with unspoken questions settles between us.

She appears nervous, as if pondering a thousand thoughts at once, before finally speaking timidly.

"H-hello," she starts, her voice slightly trembling despite her efforts to appear composed. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel surprisingly well," I reply with a gentle smile, trying to put her at ease. "Thank you for your concern."

I see her face light up with relief, then quickly tinge with pink. Her large purple eyes widen slightly, betraying her surprise. It's fascinating to see how clearly her emotions are displayed on her face, as if each thought is instantly reflected in her expressions.

"I... I'm glad to hear that," she responds hesitantly. Then, slightly furrowing her brows, she adds, "But... why are you speaking to me as if we don't know each other?"

I furrow my brow behind my mask, surprised by her question. "Because we don't. We've never met before."

Her expression swiftly shifts from confusion to wariness. Her hands grip the edge of her tunic, betraying her growing anxiety.

"That's impossible," she says, her voice trembling slightly. "I know everyone in this village. And I've never seen anyone like you here."

I feel the tension rising in the room. Sahara stirs on my chest, sensing the change in atmosphere.

"I'm not from here," I explain calmly, trying to ease her fears. "My name is Sahar."

Her face visibly pales, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Not... from here? But that's impossible. There's nothing beyond our village. Nothing but ghouls and death."

I can see fear and incredulity battling in her eyes. She takes a step back, as if I've suddenly become a threat.

"Who are you really?" she asks, her voice firmer now, despite the evident fear in her eyes.

The atmosphere has completely transformed. What began as a friendly conversation has become a tense confrontation. I realise I must choose my next words with extreme caution.

Suddenly, Sahara stirs on my chest.

"Dad, look!" she exclaims telepathically. "It's my friend!"

Surprised, I follow her gaze. A small white fox appears as if by magic near the young woman's feet. I'm taken aback - how could I not have noticed its presence in such a small room?

She seems to notice my astonishment. She looks down, and her expression softens at the sight of her companion.

"Oh, Belyy," she says softly, her voice filled with affection. "You've decided to show yourself."

I look closely at the white fox, then at Sahara. The difference between them is striking - Sahara with her large ears and golden fur, Belyy with his white coat and stockier silhouette. An idea suddenly occurs to me.

"Your friend... Belyy, is it?" I ask gently, trying to rekindle the dialogue. "He's different from Sahara, isn't he?"

She looks at me with confusion. "Sahara? You mean your... animal? Of course they're different. Belyy is unique."

I nod, seeing an opportunity to make her understand. "Sahara is a fennec, a sand fox. She comes from a place far from here, as do I."

I see incomprehension in her eyes. She's probably never heard of fennecs or the desert.

"Listen," I continue, choosing my words carefully, "I know it's hard to believe, but I can prove to you that I come from outside."

I reach into my pocket, ready to produce the three objects that could convince this young woman of my foreign origin. It's a crucial moment, and I sense that everything could pivot on her reaction.

First, I present her with a shiny coin. "This is an Astra, the currency used in the outside world."

She examines the coin with curiosity, but I can see she's not convinced. "It's pretty," she says cautiously, "but it could be anything."

Next, I unfold a detailed map. "This is a map of the world. These continents you see - Novea, Kiyo, Zafar, Kibara, Orenda, Maona - these are real places, far beyond your forest."

Her eyes widen slightly, a mixture of fascination and doubt in her gaze. "It's... an interesting map. But how can I know it's not an invention?"

I take a deep breath. This is the crucial moment. I slowly remove my smartphone from my pocket, aware that this object could either break down her last barriers or terrify her completely.

Immediately, I see her stiffen. Her eyes fix on the object with a mixture of fascination and fear. "What is that?" she asks, her voice quavering.

"This is called a smartphone," I explain gently, ensuring each of my movements is slow and non-threatening. "It's a tool for communication and information."

I turn on the screen, and she takes a step back, fear clearly visible in her eyes. "Is it... black magic?" she whispers, her voice barely audible.

"No, not at all," I respond calmly, trying to reassure her. "It's technology. Look." I scroll through some images on the screen - landscapes from different continents, cities, people from various cultures.

She observes, torn between fascination and apprehension. I can see her struggling to comprehend what she's witnessing, her world crumbling before her eyes.

"This isn't possible," she finally says, her voice barely audible. "How... how can this exist?"

I gently put the phone away, understanding the shock she must be feeling. "I know it's difficult to believe. But this is proof that I come from a world very different from yours. A world that exists beyond this forest."

She stares at me intently, her purple eyes reflecting a whirlwind of emotions. I see the exact moment when realisation hits her full force. Her face suddenly pales, her eyes widening in horror.

"No..." she whispers, her voice barely audible. "It can't be true..."

Her legs seem to give way beneath her and she collapses to the floor, her shoulders shaking with uncontrollable sobs. I stand frozen, unsure how to react to this emotional outburst.

"All of this... all for nothing," she moans between sobs. "All those people... dead for nothing. Our isolation, our fears... it was all a lie?"

I take a step towards her, wanting to comfort her somehow, but I stop abruptly when I hear hurried footsteps in the corridor.

The door bursts open, revealing an imposing figure.