The road was no longer the same. Not because the ground had changed—but because their steps carried a different weight. Where the four of them passed, reality adjusted discreetly, as if to make room for them. Or perhaps... to give them more attention.
Albert walked ahead, his hood pulled up, his eyes covered, but the world around him reacted to his presence anyway. The birds stopped flying. The wind spun in circles. And the sky... no longer had a single hue. It was a mosaic of light and intention.
Kaelya broke the silence:
— I feel like we are no longer following our destiny. We are building it.
— We are not building it, we are attracting it, Elion said. This is the first time I have been afraid of what is coming... but I want to know.
The entity nodded, whispering:
— The next step is not just a place. It is a collective decision.
Albert stopped.
— It has arrived.
Before them, a structure that resembled nothing known. Neither temple, nor city, nor ruin. It was a huge tree, but with a marble trunk, branches of light, and written leaves—each leaf a different symbol, a letter that did not belong to any known language.
— What is this? Kaelya asked.
The entity answered almost reverently:
— It is the Tree of Unspoken Decisions.
— But what are we looking for here? Elion asked.
Albert approached. When his hand touched the trunk, a deep, inner voice asked:
"What question have you never been allowed to ask?"
Albert closed his eyes. A faint flame flickered under his eyelids, but did not fully activate it.
— The question I didn't ask… is whether I can love a world I was called to change, not understand.
The tree's leaves stirred as if in an impossible breeze. Then one fell. When it touched the ground, a gate of light opened in the tree's roots.
Kaelya looked into Albert's eyes.
— Are you sure you want to come in?
Albert replied,
— It's the only place where we are not questioned… but rather we ask the world back.
Without hesitation, they all stepped through the gate. And behind them, the tree did not close. It remained open… like a page accepting to be written.
When they crossed the gate of light, they did not feel the passage as a movement. But as a revelation. The world beyond was not different—it was the same, but in a mirror. Instead of sky, questions written in light. Instead of earth, reflections of steps yet to be taken.
Kaelya touched her own shadow—and it moved before her.
— Here... intention precedes action.
Elion looked around.
— And what is this place?
The entity answered:
— People do not live here. But... variants. Possibilities.
Albert looked up. In the distance, hundreds of versions of themselves—some younger, some older, some completely changed—walked on paths that intersected, canceled out, or disappeared into smoke.
— Are all these... us?
— No. They are what you could have become if you had asked differently.
One of the "Elions" approached. His eyes were tired, his hand was bleeding, and he smiled bitterly.
"I chose revenge. And I became a weapon. Was it worth it?"
The Elion of the main reality looked at him silently.
"If you ask that, your answer has already changed."
The copy smiled, and dissipated in a shower of stardust.
Kaelya was drawn to a version of herself dressed in white, without armor.
"You've never fought?"
"There was no need. I chose to teach people how to choose before they draw their swords.
"And what have you lost?"
"The right to forget."
Kaelya felt a tear fall, not sadness. Just recognition.
The entity stopped before a circle of itself—a pure sphere, formless, voiceless.
"What are you?"
— The self I will become... when I no longer need the question.
Albert did not approach any of his versions. But they all looked at him. Some with admiration. Some with fear. Some with regret.
Only one version stepped towards him. He had no hood. He had no visible power. Just a book in his hand.
— I chose to be the scribe. Not the savior. And the world died... but it was understood.
Albert looked him in the eye:
— I choose to live the world, not just explain it.
The alternate version nodded and turned to the pages of the book.
At that moment, reality shook. Not out of fear. But like old skin peeling off.
The entity raised a hand.
— This was the Field of the Question. But the real question... is only now coming.
Albert closed his eyes. A color began to flicker beneath his eyelids.
— Prepare yourselves. What is coming will not ask if we are ready.
And from the sky of questions, one began to descend.
But it was not a question for them.
It was a question about them.
The question that descended had no form. No sound. But they all felt it. In their bones. In their thoughts. In the past they had thought they had forgotten.
Albert looked up. His eyes did not light up. But the air around him was becoming denser, clearer. Like an unspoken promise.
— Do you feel it too? he asked.
— I do not hear it, but I recognize it, said Kaelya. It is a question we never wanted to recognize.
Elion nodded.
— It is... "Who are we if we do not choose to be chosen?"
The entity said slowly:
— It is a mirror question. And it wants lived answers, not spoken ones.
Suddenly, all the space around them collapsed. Not down, not up. But inward.
And they were no longer standing together. Each had been isolated in a space of their own.
Albert was on a black platform, suspended above an endless abyss. In front of him — a boy. With big, scared eyes. With dirty hands. In a trembling voice:
— You were me... or am I what you abandoned?
Albert did not answer. He leaned down and put his hand on the boy's shoulder.
— You are what I needed to forget in order to start. But not what I want to ignore.
Kaelya was in a silent forest, without sound. On the trunk of each tree was carved a name. Of a comrade. Of a lost man. Of an enemy.
An old man with green eyes said to her:
— You survived because you did not ask if it was worth it. Can you live with that?
Kaelya, without hesitation:
— Yes. But now, I choose to ask. So that I can learn to fight without losing.
Elion was in a labyrinth of mirrors. In each one—a version of himself where he had lied, cheated, been a coward.
In the middle, a white mirror. No reflection.
A voice:
— If you hadn't been forced to become loyal… would you have chosen to be one?
Elion clenched his fists.
— This time… yes. Because I want to, not because I have to.
Only one reflection remained. An Elion smiling sincerely.
The entity was in a space without color. Without direction. Just a thin, infinite line that said:
— If you could have been anything… why did you choose to be the question?
She smiled.
— Because the question doesn't ask. It opens. And I don't want to command… I want to create space for the truth.
Then everything reconnected.
The four of them, together again. In the same space where all of reality awaited them.
And before them, now visible, the question descends completely.
But it is not a question of words.
It is a gate.
One that can only be passed by those who have responded to life with life.
Albert stepped forward.
— The question was never "are we ready?" but...
And in that moment, his eyes lit up red, and time stopped.
— "What do we choose to be… when no one asks us to be anything?"
And the gate opened.
And the world behind it… smiled.
The gate didn't lead to a place. It led to a state.
When they stepped through it, they didn't feel the passage. They felt the release—of weight, of the past, of definition. They had stepped into a world that had no name. Because the name would come from them.
The sky was composed of memories.
The earth—of expectations.
The air—of silences about to become words.
Albert no longer wore his hood. His eyes no longer burned. But every being that existed in that world felt that something had happened. And that "something" was watching them.
Kaelya touched her heart.
— Here… it's neither good nor bad. It's just… possible.
Elion sighed.
— It's the place where no excuse feels comfortable anymore.
The entity closed its eyes.
— We've reached ground zero.
In front of them, a lake. But not with water. With memory. A liquid surface that reflected not what was in front, but what was to be chosen.
Albert looked at the lake. A single image appeared on its surface: an unknown child. Without a past. With an empty future.
— Who is it? Elion asked.
Albert answered slowly:
— It is the world. But not the world we know. But the one that can be, if we have the courage to choose it.
Kaelya whispered:
— And if we do not choose?
The entity:
— Then the world will write itself. Without us.
Albert knelt by the lake. He touched the surface. Not with his fingers. But with his own intention.
The lake began to pulse, and the image of the child became clearer. He had different eyes — some that seemed to encompass all the lives that had not been lived.
— This is the core, Albert said. At this point, reality can be convinced... not forced.
And then, from the ground, three statues had grown. They represented their forms. Not as they were. But as they had been seen by the world.
Kaelya: a tough, distant warrior.
Elion: a treacherous thief.
The entity: an unknown danger.
Albert: a cold, untouchable god.
Kaelya touched her statue.
"That's not me."
Elion did the same.
"Neither did I."
The entity laughed softly.
"It's strange to see how you were feared before you were understood."
Albert approached his own statue. He stared at it for a long time.
"I can't destroy this image. But I can leave it behind."
And then, the statue cracked... and from it came a light.
Light that didn't blind. It embraced.
All four stepped into the light.
And for the first time, the world recognized them.
Not as gods.
Not as saviors.
But as people who chose to ask what could be... and to stay to live the answer.
After they stepped into the light, reality did not change... but it opened. It was not like an explosion, but like a slow gesture of opening - like a flower blooming in the darkness, without witnesses.
The world did not speak to them. But it listened to them.
At the center of the new space that had emerged, a stone circle with moving symbols - each symbol a word they did not yet know, but which they would understand.
Albert approached.
"This is the place where we are not given a mission. But where we are asked to formulate it."
Kaelya tilted her head.
"To become... the story?"
Entity:
"No. To become the narrators of a world that has never had a voice for those who inhabit it."
Elion sat down in the stone circle. The symbols wrapped around his arm. Not as a burden. As a choice.
— I feel… something. As if… the world is waiting for us to ask for something.
Albert said clearly:
— Then let us not ask for glory. Let us not ask for obedience. Let us ask for one thing: truth at the cost of choice.
The symbols exploded in a dance of light. Then, slowly, they reassembled in the form of a name.
The name of that world.
But only Albert could read. Because only he had formulated the request.
— What is its name? Kaelya asked.
Albert smiled.
— "Verea." In the old language, it means: "That which was born of the question."
The entity stepped into the middle of the circle.
— If the world now has a name… it means that we too have a role. But not as masters. But as guardians of the living question.
Elion reached out his hand to the center of the circle.
— Then let us begin. But not with power. With obedience.
At that moment, in the distance, a shape moved in the distance.
A man. Real. Not a variant. Not an illusion. Not a reflection.
"We are not alone here," Kaelya said.
Albert nodded.
"It was inevitable. Where there is choice, there are others who seek it."
The person approached. His skin was encrusted with symbols and he wore a cloak of solidified sand. His eyes were pitch black, but from them emanated... a curious silence.
"Who are you?" Albert asked.
The stranger spoke:
"I am the one who asked... before you."
The entity took a step forward.
"And what did you find?"
"Nothing. Because I asked alone."
Albert said:
"Then ask with us. And the world will answer you in echo."
The stranger smiled. And from that smile, a line of light stretched between him and the others.
The first alliance in a world that had no laws.
Only questions. And those who had the courage to inhabit them.
When the line of light stabilized between them and the stranger, the space changed. Not as a defensive reaction. But as a rearrangement. As if Verea herself were redrawing her outline to include them.
The stranger placed his palm on the ground. From the place he touched, a living symbol grew—a tree made of light and memory.
— How did you do that? Elion asked.
— I didn't do it. I allowed it. Verea only responds to those who don't command.
Kaelya whispered:
— Then we will learn not to dominate. But to dialogue.
Albert looked at the newly emerged tree. At its top, a flower that had not yet bloomed pulsed in rhythm with the breathing of those present.
— This is the sign of the beginning.
The complete entity:
— And it will bloom only when someone has the courage to ask something that does not want an answer.
The stranger looked at them in turn. He stopped at Albert.
— Are you the one summoned from another world?
— Yes.
— And are you... Albert?
Albert blinked. He had never said his name here. Not yet.
Kaelya flinched. Elion frowned. The entity raised an eyebrow slightly.
— How do you know that name? Elion asked.
— Because I... was summoned once too.
Albert stepped closer.
— Tell me everything you know.
The stranger nodded.
— This is not the story of a single summoned. It is a cycle. A world that has summoned beings from other existences over time... each with an unresolved question.
— And what happened to the others?
— Some got lost in false answers. Some were absorbed by the power. But a few... asked so deeply that they became part of the fabric of this world.
The entity said:
— Are you one of them?
The stranger closed his eyes.
— I am the echo of such a man. I no longer have his body. But I bear his question.
Albert stepped beside him. A single blue flame flickered in his eyes.
— Then tell me: what was his question?
The stranger took a deep breath.
— "What remains of me… if everything answers me?"
The silence that followed was not heavy.
She was settled. Like a stone that has found its place in an old foundation.
Kaelya approached the tree.
— Will we stay here?
Albert shook his head slightly.
— No. Verea is not a place to stay. It is a world that asks you to traverse, not conquer.
Elion strapped on his dagger.
— Shall we set off then?
— Yes. But not after the answers.
Albert smiled slightly.
— Let's go... to ask.
And so, in the light of a flower that had not yet bloomed and in the shade of a tree born from silence, the four - plus one - set off on their first journey.
The first of many.
In a world that had no legends.
But only unspoken questions.