The sky of Stones changed.
Not because of magic. Not by will. But because of a resonance that had yet to manifest into reality. When the Root Conductor's magic: Song of Rebirth united with Rinoa's Harmonic Spiral, an existential interference occurred: a future that had not yet happened tried to speak.
And in one pulse of roots, a stage of possibilities emerged in the middle of the city. Rinoa, present in doubt and courage, felt her heartbeat resonate with the vibrations coming from that stage. Meanwhile, Fitran, with his sharp gaze and enigmatic demeanor, seemed to act as a bridge between the past and the future.
The stage was not built by hands. It grew from the ground, like memories that refused to be buried deeper. Each stone that appeared seemed to convey messages that had once been suppressed, a silent music now overflowing. As Rinoa felt the flow of energy, she wondered, "Is this what we have been waiting for?"
Rinoa and Fitran walked toward the center of the sound. The cracked streets echoed with the footsteps of the future, flowing like an old song trapped between shadows. Rinoa, with her outstretched hand, felt the air as if trying to grasp the elusive future, while Fitran, walking beside her, radiated an aura of certainty that made her feel a little safer. Buildings transformed in their eyes—stones became charred wood, towers turned into gallows, as if the city itself participated in the dark dance of fate. And in the city center, a square gaped, revealing a surface seemingly made of past anxieties. Desires and fears clashed within her soul as she struggled to unravel the meaning behind this change.
In the center stood Rinoa herself—older, wearier, bound to a wooden post, her face radiating a strange peace, as if accepting a predetermined fate. In the terrifying light of the fire, the glimmer of tears of hatred and longing merged into one. Deep in her heart, she felt trapped in a web of destiny woven over centuries, each thread containing hope and despair. Though her body was bound, her spirit burned with unwavering courage.
Fire blazed beneath her, glowing with a red light that brought both hope and horror. Each spark seemed to whisper, telling tales of unexpected journeys and sacrifices made. Rinoa remembered Fitran, the friend who had always been by her side, a warrior with a bubbling spirit. Amidst the terror, his calm smile always rekindled hope, as if he could see a way out of the darkness enveloping them.
The Earth forces stood around her, their shadows resembling monsters born from darkness. Their armor was not from the present era—sleeker, more brutal, gleaming in its ominousness, as if made from plates of frozen hope and anger. Each helmet bore the broken symbols of Proto-Speech; no words could describe the hatred within them. Their eyes glowed red, not out of anger... but out of certainty. Fitran, though separated by distance, was present in her thoughts, giving her the strength to face it all. It was then that Rinoa felt how important her true friend's presence was in determining the direction of her life.
Amidst the crowd, unease was also felt in the oppressive silence. Each face reflected a deep conviction, even as their hearts cried for a forgotten fate. It was not just Rinoa who felt it; the essence of her friends seemed to burn in uncertainty, as if they all shared the burden of a dark destiny.
And at that moment, the fire was ignited. A rumble echoed, signaling that an inevitable decision had been made. Suddenly, everyone remembered the promise once spoken in the silence of the night—a promise to protect one another, even in the deepest darkness.
"In the name of world stability, we erase her." "Because she bears a name that must not be carried." "Sheena Iskaryth Melorathen has vanished, and the world must not remember her."
In the midst of those haunting words, a fierce wind blew, whispering secrets that seemed forgotten. Ash and dust danced in the air, mourning the loss that was about to occur. The heavy footsteps of the Earth forces echoed, adding a chilling impression. Every heartbeat seemed to stop, allowing tension to envelop all present. Amidst the waves of fear, Rinoa felt a suffocating helplessness; each word seemed to drive sharp nails into her heart. She struggled to hold her breath, to contain the tears that were about to spill, but her determination to move forward remained ignited within her.
Behind those words, there was an unseen magical vibration, enveloping them in a dark aura. Like an ancient incantation, the power locked within the name Sheena seemed to resonate with the ground beneath their feet. Gradually, the gravity of the announcement seeped into the soul of every individual who heard it, igniting an inner struggle about why a name could be so dangerous. Fitran, standing beside Rinoa, felt the same heavy burden. In the depths of his gaze, anxiety and hope were hidden—two poles pulling against each other in his heart. Would they be able to withstand this storm?
And at that moment, the fire was ignited.
Rinoa stood beside Fitran, watching a version of herself bound, tortured, burned alive. The image pierced her heart, igniting a blaze of emotions that were hard to explain. She knew that even though it was just an illusion, the pain felt so real, as if it were burning her skin. She tried to straighten her back, wanting to show that she was not afraid to face that dark shadow.
She trembled. But not out of fear.
She understood what was being displayed. Within that power, she found her motivation, a drive to fight for all that she loved. She struggled against the despair lurking, trying to clear the fog of sorrow that filled her mind.
"This is not punishment. This... is the world showing the possibilities I carry if I take a wrong step."
The fire began to envelop the future Rinoa's gown. Yet her face remained calm, as if that face was a shield covering deep wounds. In her heart, the vibrations of hope and fear clashed, creating a symphony that could only be understood by a soul caught between two choices. Around her, the air felt thick and vibrating, like magic flowing between them—a palette of tension painting the memories of searching and sacrifice. She was not just seeing; she was feeling, as if the flames were the vibrations of her soul tossed between guilt and regret. The echoing screams added a new rhythm to the chaos, and Rinoa felt the warmth of that uncertainty gripping her heart.
"If I must die for the name I protect... then at least, I will die without shame," she said, her voice like fresh morning dew yet heavy with burden. Those words, though sounding firm, held deep sorrow and revealed a pull of the soul that could not escape from responsibility and pure love.
The fire blazed higher, dancing as if responding to her steadfastness. The Earth forces cheered. The name Sheena was erased from the air, replaced with a lie of history. Amidst the cheers, Rinoa felt the presence of an inseparable shadow—love and sacrifice intertwined in her mind, like two souls bound by an unspoken promise.
And in all of that, Rinoa asked herself, feeling how each second seemed to bind her tighter with the heavy burden of fate:
The noise of the cheers flowed, merging with the roar of the fire, creating a haunting rhythm. Her thoughts shifted from blood-soaked moments to the call of her true self, feeling the pressure of the world forcing her to choose. Every word that came from her throat seemed to suffocate her breath, as if every statement was a turning point in her destiny. In that chaos, Rinoa remembered every beautiful and painful moment, the warm times she had ever felt—she wanted to immortalize them in her memory as part of herself.
"Does loving Sheena mean repeating her mistakes?" "Is preserving her name... a betrayal of peace?"
Fitran stood beside her, bowing his head, holding a million hopes in his weary gaze. He felt the vibrations of Rinoa's emotions, a connection that wrapped them in an unspoken silence. In the gloom of the situation, a small hope flickered between them—a symbol that even in darkness, love could still light the way.
He could feel the weight that burdened Rinoa's heart, a weight far too heavy for a loving soul to bear. Rinoa, with all her grace intertwined with deep pain, appeared as if trapped in an unexpressed longing, recalling the sweet and bitter moments when love and loss united. Her gaze wandered toward the enthusiastic mass of soldiers, while Rinoa's focus remained on the shadow trapped in the fire. Great aspirations versus a love that should have been eternal—this was a battle in an invisible courtyard. She felt like a caged bird, longing for freedom yet shackled by a profound sense of responsibility.
"If loving someone can disrupt the world... then perhaps the world needs to change," she murmured, her soft voice caught between the decisions that had to be made.
The square of the future began to creak. Stones crumbled. But not because of Rinoa's magic—rather, because the version of herself that was burned... began to sing. She felt the call of that voice, as if a part of her was rising and resisting, welcoming back what had once been lost.
From within the fire, a voice emerged:
"My name is not to be saved." "My name... is the fire itself."
And the entire future city collapsed in one breath.
Gray smoke floated in the air, creating a faint shadow of the destroyed buildings. The precious dancing fire created magical patterns, as if they were communicating with other elements of the world. The two elements spoke to each other, singing songs that could only be heard by souls trapped between reality and dreams. Faithfully, Fitran held Rinoa's hand, digging into the strength of resilience behind her softness, feeling that this moment not only determined their future but also tested how deeply love could endure.
Rinoa and Fitran fell together to the real ground.
No more posts. No more fire. But the ground they stood on changed color—turning black and gold. A sign that the Tree of Life had stored that future in its memory.
Beneath their feet, the ground trembled gently, responding to their presence with all the hidden strength. The sound of breaking walls added drama as they felt a soft tremor, as if nature whispered secrets from ages long past. Rinoa, with her hair shimmering as if touched by moonlight, felt her energy merge with the vibrations of the earth. Amidst the commotion, Rinoa sensed something watching over them—an entity that might have once been part of them. As if there were eyes exploring space and time, observing their steps with hope and sorrow.
Rinoa closed her eyes. She knew that it was not just Sheena who was being judged by the world. The tension within her overflowed like ripples on the surface of a lake, challenging the uncertainty that enveloped her thoughts.
It was herself too. And the world was asking:
"Do you wish to unite our will? But you... carry a name that once burned the world."
And Rinoa answered softly:
"Then let me be the new fire. But this time, I will sing back the names that were lost... without burning."
Her hope illuminated her steps, guiding her through the darkness that enveloped the future. In every heartbeat, there was a growing belief, creating light at the end of the dark corridor. Through trials and sacrifices, she knew, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, she would find a way to release the trapped souls by singing a more beautiful song, one that would never extinguish the light of hope. Those voices would remain alive, echoing in the universe, waiting to be rediscovered. Fitran, beside her, felt Rinoa's strong courage, and it strengthened his steps, making him determined not to let the past destroy their future.