I never imagined that as I grew older, my memories of childhood and my previous life would fade like this. The one thought that still troubles me to this day is of my parents. Are they still alive? How did they cope with losing their twelve-year-old daughter? Did they ever find peace? If they did, I’d like to know so that I, too, could find some solace.

It was just after Christmas in 1968. I remember the harsh winter outside, and I was about to head out with a shopping bag to buy milk and tea so my mother and I could warm ourselves at home. My father, as I recall, was away, working on some construction project abroad. We lived in an old pre-war building, only four floors tall, with faded flowers, half-forgotten in the hallways, accompanied by a yellowed plastic bottle of water and an echo. And that’s when I heard it.

"Do you really think they'll approve it, Mrs. Pels? You tried to get permission to expand the communal bathroom two years ago, and did they allow it then?"

"No, dear Mr. Fors, you see, if they had sent someone competent, not that shady, overdone woman who probably couldn’t see a thing through those dark glasses, maybe they would have seen the conditions we’re forced to live in and understood. And besides... I know what you’re up to. You want that middle apartment for yourself so you can stretch out your legs in a bigger living room with your dear wife by the Christmas tree. Isn’t that right? But the fact that I only have one room and a tiny kitchen without even a sink doesn’t bother you at all. You probably think, old woman, why would she need more space, right?"

"Please, don’t bring my wife Marie into this, show some decency... And you know what? You’re a widow, your kids are grown. Do you even know how much money you'd need for that? It’s not something you’ll save up for from a pension..."

"It’s obvious you’ve thought about this a lot. And let me tell you, I do have the money, yes indeed. I don’t waste it on a car or a television, and I certainly don’t need your fancy American washing machine. I’ve been scrubbing by hand in the communal bathroom for years, walking everywhere, and staring at the walls, so I can afford a little luxury in my old age."

My mother, just like me, was eavesdropping with bated breath on the sniping between these two resentful neighbors above us.

"Oh, they want the apartment of old Mrs. Grügman. She’s the one Grandma used to talk about – nobody in the building liked her, and one day she didn’t come home, so the apartment stayed empty until the authorities seized it and sealed it up. I remember her as a little girl; she was... well, how to put it... odd. God knows what happened to her," my mother whispered into my ear.

On the way to the store, I wondered what it must look like in there. An abandoned apartment where no one had set foot in twenty years. What would it smell like? I’d always loved mysteries like that. Dark corners in the basement, filled with the scent of mildew, drew me in as much as the hidden drawers I’d once discovered in my grandparents’ rooms. It was simply in my nature to be irresistibly drawn to such things.

That afternoon, I grabbed my brand-new crossbow, a Christmas gift, and, despite the ice – which didn’t bother me at all as a child – I climbed out an open hallway window and shimmied across the frozen ledge to the narrow balcony of that abandoned apartment.

There were crumbling flower pots, a few deserted nests, and windows so thickly caked with grime that I could barely see inside. I don’t know what possessed me, but without hesitation, I used the crossbow handle to smash a small hole in the window so I could unlock the door from the inside.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

As soon as I entered, I was enveloped by a strange, sweetish odor and the shock of realizing the apartment was still furnished. The furniture had turned black, the plaster was peeling, and there was mold on the walls. Everything was draped in layers of dust and cobwebs that hung from the ceiling like tendrils of mist. In that old-fashioned kitchen, I could clearly see that the food on the stove and everything around it was frozen in the moment it had been left behind.

Carefully, I moved through the webs, my heart pounding with excitement. This was beyond anything I had imagined! I tried to be as silent as possible to avoid anyone discovering I had broken into the apartment. But when I peeked into the next room, I wanted to scream in terror, yet my throat locked up, rendering me silent. Brace yourself!

On an ancient, decayed armchair sat... it couldn’t be – how could they have left her here like this?! I gasped in horror, feeling a weight drop into my stomach so heavy it nearly brought me to my knees. It was a dried-out corpse – half skeleton – of old Mrs. Grügman.

She sat motionless, holding a mug with dried coffee in her blackened hand for over twenty years. Her hair had peeled away from her skull and clung to the chair's back like a discarded wig. She wore strange clothes, the kind I’d never seen my mother or anyone else wear. A dark, dried stain stretched from beneath her, soaking into the upholstery and wooden floor as if it had burned its way in.

To this day, the memory makes me nauseous, and I feel chills down my spine. Maybe I should have left then and told my mother everything, but I didn’t. The old woman had an amulet lying on her lap, and as I drew closer, I felt it reaching out to me, demanding my attention. The pale blue stone glowed with a holographic light, and I, a child, was enchanted by it all.

I took it. I know, it was foolish, but something within me decided, and I couldn’t ignore the calling. My entire life spiraled from that single decision, didn’t it? You be the judge.

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Profile

Estar Valen – Age 12, with straight brown hair cut to shoulder length, mesmerizing eyes, and porcelain-white skin. Equipped with a wooden crossbow and arrows, as well as an uncut magical stone – an aquamarine with a stellar resonance. Special skill yet to be discovered.

* Elúvéris (magical vitality) – 100%

* Health Vitality – 100%

* Light Resonance (magical power) – 1

* Progression Level – Non-mage

* Aura (mental barrier) – 1

* Potion Skills – 0

* Total Potions – 0

* Rodium – 0

* Unlocked Items – 1

* Tamed Creatures – 0

* Overall Progress – Level 1

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Magical Spheres:

* Elemental Magic: Encompasses fundamental elements like fire, water, wind, frost, and gravity, allowing Geomancers to control the natural aspects of the world. These elements are considered primal forms of practical and visible power.

* Stellar Magic: Deals with the power of starlight, encompassing effects like lightning, explosions, and matter collapse. This branch of geomancy is often considered the most dangerous, as Geomancers manipulate the raw energy of stars.

* Particle Magic: Allows for manipulation at the particle level and control over light spectra. Due to its subtlety, Geomancers using particle magic can operate almost invisibly, giving them an advantage in precision and tactics.

* Animatic Magic: Focuses on influencing mental aspects – dreams, reincarnation, and interactions with spiritual dimensions. This form of magic does not work with visible reality but rather taps into the human subconscious and soul.

* Sensory Magic: Manipulates human senses, allowing Geomancers to affect sensations of pain, sight, or hearing. Often used for subtle communication or interrogation.

* Mortal Magic: Deals directly with life and death, allowing manipulation of bodily energy and interference in the life cycle. This magic is considered sacred, as it enables Geomancers to heal or take life.

* Relative Magic: Involves time-space manipulation, including abilities like creating illusions, bilocation, or teleportation. While it is possible to bend time, no known method allows passage through it.