After the terrifying illusion of Rinoa's execution in the future dissipated, silence once again enveloped Stones. However, the air transformed.
The wind no longer carried dust; instead, it brought fragments of time—ethereal shadows lacking a complete form, yet feeling undeniably tangible in the heart. A gentle aroma, reminiscent of morning dew, filled the space, carrying unspoken whispers from the past. It was as if time itself danced softly, reminding every soul connected by an invisible, delicate thread. From the roots of the Tree of Life, recently activated by the Root Conductor, a sound emerged—a cry.
A small cry. Fragile. But it pierced directly into the soul, as if awakening buried memories within every fiber of existence. Amid the gusts of wind, the sky seemed to quiver, holding warmth and intertwined sorrow, inviting every being to listen to the endless song of the lost. The echo of that voice transcended the boundaries of time, enveloping the space with a gentle roar filled with embrace.
It was not a cry of spirits.
Not magic.
But… the voices of those who never got the chance to be born.
Rinoa gazed around her. The mist gradually draped over the altar, swirling as if hiding secrets within. From within that mist, tiny figures emerged—children.
Amidst the unspoken sobs, a surge of anxiety bubbled over. Rinoa gazed around her, as a gentle fog enveloped the altar, swirling as if concealing secrets within. From within that mist emerged small figures—children. Some were still toddlers, some dashed about, while others sat quietly, grasping at the air as if trying to curl their fingers around forgotten dreams. Their innocent faces radiated broken hope, as though their hearts trembled in the thick silence.
They were translucent, seeming to exist only partially. The world appeared filled with shadows birthed from both longing and sorrow. Yet, with each movement they made, the roots of the Tree of Life writhed uncomfortably, creating a soft sound reminiscent of whispers from castaway souls. This sound echoed like a revival from the past, resonating in the stillness, urging Rinoa to reflect on unfulfilled destinies that echoed within her.
Fitran took a step forward, his eyes widening at a scene that was difficult to believe—a magical theater amidst the silence. A dim light approached them, inviting an irresistible feeling of yearning. Every beat of his heart synchronized with the rhythm of nature, as if the leaves were whispering and the night birds sang sweetly in perfect harmony.
"They... are the results of time that was denied."
"Possibilities... of love that never reached completion."
One of them walked towards Fitran. She had long black hair and wore a thin sky-colored dress that seemed otherworldly. Around her, a soft light emanated, like the moonlight piercing through a dense forest, making each of her steps appear as a dance of the wind. Every movement of her body resembled a living painting, depicting unspoken stories that lay buried in every corner of the forest.
"Father..." she said.
"Why... did you choose not to continue my path?"
Fitran stood frozen. He did not know who this child was. Yet within him, his soul trembled. There was an empty space he thought was a wound from the world. It turned out to be a place for a name he had yet to recognize. As if time stood still, his heart thumped like thunder echoing in the depths of the sky. In an instant, he felt connected to the roots of life flowing through the earth, merging with the majestic tree of life, where every branch held secrets and unspoken hopes. Amidst the silence, the longing that had been suppressed began to flow in his mind, inviting forgotten memories to return, as if the night breeze carried whispers from a past that would never fade.
The child smiled, but her smile was heavy with the sadness of the world. In the soft moonlight, the shadows of her face flickered, revealing unspoken emotions, as if their hearts vibrated to a shared melody, a sacred act flowing through the ripples of time. Like morning dew washing over leaves, that smile stirred her soul, guiding Rinoa to the faint memories hidden in the corners of her heart.
"I am nobody. I am the possibility...
of all the forgiveness that was never spoken."
Outside, in an unseen dimension, the rustling of leaves played a gentle tune, a song of the universe filled with hope. She felt the souls that once existed wandering between light and shadow, as if watching over this meeting, offering support through subtle, gentle vibrations. Each word she spoke was a mantra, awakening awareness of the hidden wonder. In that silence, time seemed to slow, and every second became a form of eternity, holding unvoiced hopes.
Two other children appeared near Rinoa. They were twins—a boy and a girl. Their faces… bore a striking resemblance to Rinoa. It was as if their souls were intertwined in the threads of time, crossing the boundaries between the real and the unspoken, like the twinkle of stars in the night sky carrying messages from another world. In their gaze, Rinoa saw a reflection of courage and sorrow, as if their hearts beat in unison, yearning to be expressed.
"Why didn't you survive longer?" the boy asked, his voice a gentle lilt that created a magical vibration in the air. He extended his hand, as if wanting to reach a world separated by shadows, and Rinoa felt a deep pain upon hearing the question, as if each word was an arrow piercing her heart.
"If only you had lived a little more peacefully, perhaps we would be real," the girl said, flowing softly like a river that reminded Rinoa of moments filled with hope. Their voices were like the melody guiding Rinoa to a dream world, where all pain and longing could be soothed by a single warm embrace capable of healing heartaches.
Rinoa couldn't answer. She simply embraced them—yet the children didn't grow quiet. In fact, they cried even harder. Not out of sadness, but because that embrace made them more real, and that reality... was painful. Within that hug, it felt as if the magic of the Tree of Life whispered the secrets of the world, binding them under a canopy that radiated light, reminiscent of dewdrops shimmering in the morning sun. Rinoa's heart pulsed in a touching harmony, as if her soul united with every fragment of light vibrating around her, creating an emotional symphony only understood by those who experience the depths of love and loss.
One by one, the children began to surround Fitran and Rinoa. They emerged like ethereal figures in the mist, emanating a glow of tenderness and profound yearning. Among those gentle whispers, Rinoa sensed that each child carried a story, a desire tucked away in their hearts, narrating dreams that never had the chance to come true.
It wasn't about killing.
It was about confronting them with all the possibilities they had never seized. Amidst the soft whispers dancing in the air, each possibility appeared in vibrant colors, portraying a life that vibrated gently, as if life itself were breathing life into every buried dream.
However, facing them with all the possibilities left unexplored, each potential seemed to shimmer with vibrant colors, displaying a softly vibrating vision of life, as if life itself was breathing life into every buried dream within their fates. In the corners of their hearts, an unspoken longing floated, like night birds soaring in search of lost light, adding depth to the emotions radiating from within. Fitran saw himself as a father who abandoned his family for the world's desires, his eyes reflecting profound sorrow like shadows among the branches of the Tree of Life. Every second felt like a thousand years, as if time had its own way of inflicting pain, and in the silence, he sensed each step he took into an unpredictable maze.
Rinoa envisioned herself as a mother who chose to save the world over her own child; every choice appeared to hover before her, like dew waiting to fall from leaves glistening under the moonlight. In the struggle of her thoughts, her child's soft voice seemed to dance in her ears, reminding her of a deep love, an irresistible pull trapped between hope and bitter reality.
They both saw a world where Stones was not a sanctuary, but a place where all love ended in betrayal. Amidst the noise, there was a soft whisper from the World Tree, as if it were cradling the lost souls and wrapping them in warm light. Its branches sparkled like the setting stars, radiating a beckoning and enchanting glow, while the roots that gripped the earth vibrated, swaying to an inaudible rhythm. An invisible song flowed through each leaf, telling tales of sorrow and hope united in the eternal cycle of life.
Rinoa grasped the roots surrounding the altar and began to sing. But it was not Lament of Everroot.
Not Aria Absolutia.
It was a soul's lament—a song sung only by mothers who lost their children before they could be named. The voice was neither high nor strong, yet the world listened. It was as if every note that slipped from her lips was dew falling onto leaves, enhancing the beauty of the tranquil morning; a resonance of pain intertwined with unwavering hope. In the profound silence, the wind whispered softly, seemingly awakening the lingering souls within each note played, weaving a delicate web between reality and dreams; a wordless poem understood only by hearts that had once longed.
Around her, the spirit of the universe seemed to merge with this melody—flowers whispered to one another in vibrant colors, each petal like a flying soul, following the direction of the wind in search of peace. The sky above appeared to respond, rolling soft clouds in harmonious motion, dancing to the rhythm of the song that swept through the soul, making each verse in the air become one with the breath of the universe. The trees swayed gently, as if understanding that in this moment, Rinoa's presence served as a bridge between the lost and the existing, connecting the real world with a higher realm.
"You are not wrong.
You are not rejected because you are lacking.
But because the world is not yet ready to embrace beauty like yours."
Slowly, the children began to smile. In their smiles, there was a shimmering starlight, a beacon of hope that seemed to remind them that even though they were apart, the love that connected them would never fade. The roots beneath the ground trembled, welcoming their presence and linking them to all the life above. Their eyes sparkled with the power of dreams, harboring a thousand secrets in each blink.
Fitran added Root Conductor to the melody, creating a resonance of the roots. He did not erase them; he simply connected them to the tree, to the world, to the possibilities. Like an invisible bridge, each note stretched wide, transcending the boundaries of time and space.
All around him, a gentle light shimmered, as if the aura of every note created danced in harmony, depicting tales yet to be told. The leaves of the Tree of Life quivered lightly, responding to the melody being played, as if they were witnesses to the unfolding miracle. Each gust of wind carried whispers from the past, flowing like water that beckoned to be explored deeper.
"You will not be lost.
You will live in our voices.
In the magic that heals, not that controls."
One by one, the children began to fade away. But this time… it was not a loss. Rather, it was a metamorphosis, a transformation into a part of a greater nature, dancing in an unbroken rhythm.
From the hollow beneath the roots, thin wisps of smoke rose into the air, hinting at a new tale that would emerge from the unseen, as if the universe signaled that every ending is a beginning for something else. The space around them vibrated with magical energy, and each breath taken seemed to awaken the spirits dwelling within the tree. Between the shadows of life's stages, they felt the presence of every story unfurling amid the heartbeat of the earth, singing an eternal song in the silence. The power of their origins flowed like a river, linking the past with a future yet to be imagined.
This was a birth in a form yet to be defined.
When everything had quieted, the Stones sky emitted a single vertical light. A new Proto-Speech emerged at the root altar: this light, like hope igniting within the heart, carried the promise of life that would thrill every soul it touched, signaling an unexpected arrival.
ꦲꦺꦴꦫꦺꦩꦤ꧀ ꦧꦶꦤ ꦤꦶꦁ ꦲꦸꦩꦸꦁ —
Oreman Bina Ning Humung
(They are not born... but they have found their place.)
Rinoa gazed at Fitran, her eyes filled with hope and gratitude that pierced deep into her mind, suggesting that their communication transcended words. In the embrace of silence adorned with light, her cool fingers seemed to etch invisible paths on the canvas of destiny, reminding them of the power of the soul's sustenance that continued to glow within them. At this moment, the presence of the Tree of Life felt more vivid, its vibrations filling the emptiness with gentle light and comforting warmth, reflecting eternal life.
"If we can sing this song long enough… perhaps one day, we will never lose again."