It originate — paradoxically — with silence
Not the comforting kind that indulge after a long day , nor the ominous hush before the storm , but a silence so deep i made tickling of a clock feel like thunder .
Lei blinked .
He wasnt sure when he had closed his eyes . The air around him crackled — not with sound but with awareness . As if the existance of everything had just remembered something and was guilty or perhaps embarrassed about it .
He stood on nothing.
There was no ground , no sky , no magnitude nor direction — just on void threaded with something he was familiar with that resembled neither mathematics nor magic, but a disturbing fusion of both. One of them glowed brighter than the others — an elegant , circular symbol that looked liked an auroboros trapped with möbius strip .
The seal of paradox.
He remembered naming it that or perhaps someone else had . A version of him who hadn't quite been lei … yet was .
" either i have reached the stage where i am officially a crazy day dreamer…" he muttered to himself , " … or i have finally overdosed an instant noodles and insomia ."
His voice echoed backwords.
From the shimmering curtain of space , memories which were somewhat incomplete and unfamiliar bled through like a faculty projections . Some were his sister's laugh , the scent of cheap ink from exam papers , an elder brother gruff scolding after he pulled an all — nigher examining the exam papers which were not only a paper but rather a mirror of reality on his passing simulation .
Others … were not.
Battle fields drenched in dusk light , cities floating upside down over oceans of glass , a monarch with no face whispering a name that didn't belong to this universe.
And then —
Pain.
Not the physical kind . This was sharper meaner . A shearing sensation of identity itself being peeled away, sliced , folded , and rewoven like origami done by mad gods .
Lei screamed without a mouth .
He opened his eyes .
This scent of ink . Faint candle light , dust .
He was sitting — arms sore , black straight — at a wooden table too ornate for his usual taste . His hands clutched a black quill , still dripping ink onto parchment paper. The word neviya scribbled on it .
Only… he didnt know how to write in this script. Yet he had effortlessly .
The language hung in his brain like a second soul .
Around him , the room was softly lit .and arched window let in the golden hue of setling sunlight , the fulls of scrolts , leather — bound tomes , and strange instruments resembling astrolubes and heart monitor … fused into one .
" brother lei , are you done yet ?"
Lei froze .
The door creaked open without his permission.
In stepped a girl — no older than fourteen . With striking gray eyes and curly hair tied into messy bun. She was holding a tray with something suspiciously edible and suspiciously smoking .
" you always forget to eat when you're working ". She pouted , placing the tray beside him .
" I - uh .." lei managed. " yes , thank you serenya ? "
" who else ?" She frowned .
She rolls her eyes with the skill a sibling who had practiced sarcasm since birth . " you are lucky , you didnt ruin the inkstone this time ."
She walked out , leaving him alone with questions . Endless looping irritating questions .
He glanced down .
On the parchment , beneath the word neviya , more symbol had been drawn . Writing in a hand that was now unmistakably his .
And not .
To be continued …