The ripples of starfall disturbed the glassy mirror of water, which shook as the swelling of starlight boiled not from the night sky but from below. The water bubbled as the reflection of the crimson-shattered sky became nothing more than a red blur against the otherworldly glow from beneath the murky water. It splashed and crashed with tumultuous energy before slowly receding into a steady, hypnotic rhythm. The surface heaved and released, like a tender newborn’s first breath. From the inky water, a pleasantly warm light reached for the heavens with a silent yearning for something lost among the stars. The luminescence twisted and wove itself around the darkness and from the nothingness, an outstretched hand reached for the fractured night sky.
Floating gracefully atop the water was a young boy, pale and frail. He stared far into the deep night sky. His black eyes studied the heavenly wound. It was an ethereal gash that seemingly spread across the celestial canvas. The shattered ends of the millions of ends seemed to reach out far beyond the main body, like the roots of an ancient tree, the strike of lightning, or the channels of a delta. The heavenly wound was chaotic and raw, with trails of light raining down on the dense forest below.
He watched the night rip open, not with fear but with quiet reverence, a small smile curling at the haunting beauty unraveling above.
With his eyes fixed on the cosmic scar above, he floated effortlessly and nearly weightlessly, as if in the water's embrace. Cradled by the cool water, he gazed at the night sky until the stars blurred. His eyelids grew heavy, and with soft surrender, he slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The Grand Fracture was a tragedy of unknown consequence. In every corner of the universe, night skies bore witness to the eerie red fracture, now frozen in place, unreachable, and unyielding—a herald of a new age. Under the glow of that fractured sky, on a seemingly forgotten planet, a boy slept—nameless and alone. Dreaming of nothing, he waited—not for tomorrow’s warmth, but for a day that had yet to come.
The soft glow of the sun crept over the mountains, breathing life into the strange, slumbering forest. The crisp morning chill melted under the sun’s growing warmth, chasing away the lingering chill. Northern winds wove through the trees, whispering and swirling between branches. Birdsong filled the air, accompanied by the soft scuttle of small creatures in the underbrush, while the colorful leaves danced with the breeze. The sun climbed steadily, casting golden light as it broke free from the horizon.
Soon, the warm light spilled over a shallow pond, embracing the surface in a soft, golden glow. The water, impossibly clear, reflected the light, creating a mesmerizing dance of warmth. Underwater flowers blossomed beneath the surface, their delicate petals capturing the drifting sediment stirred by the boy’s gentle presence above. He kicked his feet ever so slightly, drifting with the water, his eyes once again fixed on the now-faded gash that lingered far above, beyond the sky. Slowly, his first true thoughts surfaced: a soft whisper in the quiet: How pretty. The cloudless sky, a muted blue, brightened as the sun steadily climbed toward its apex, bathing the world in quiet light.
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Planting his feet into the soft petal-laden bed beneath the water, he pushed himself up and began to walk towards the shore. The water fell away hesitantly, trailing away behind him in shimmering droplets as he stepped onto solid ground and into the heart of the blossom forest. With no clear goal or direction, he wandered aimlessly, drawn to whatever caught his eye, moving from one delicate bloom to the next, simply following the beauty around him.
The forest floor was carpeted in soft, pink grasses that stood in sharp contrast to the dark bark of the towering trees stretching endlessly toward the sky. The trunks shifted in color from deep black at their base to pure white at the top, blending in a smooth gradient. Though there were no leaves, clusters of pink and white flowers adorned the branches, delicate and glowing in the sunlight. Some drifted down like feathers, releasing a sweet lemon-like fragrance as they fluttered softly to the ground.
With a blank expression, the boy followed the sweet scent, letting the wind guide him through the blossom-covered forest. He meandered aimlessly, drifting past oddities as they appeared. Floating ponds hovered like giant, glassy bubbles, filled with strange, lizard-like fish and plants that spiraled unnaturally upward. He wobbled deeper into the forest, the wind gently urging him forward while faint voices began to echo in the back of his mind.
“Don’t go,” a voice called out, desperate.
“He shouldn’t leave; someone should stop him!” Another voice cried, panic rising.
“The calamity has come and gone,” whispered a third voice, sour with defeat.
“Gira please! Stop him!” came a pleading voice.
“It’s too late.”
“NO!”
"Estia, this was a mistake!” The voices swirled around him, growing more frantic with every step, but the boy walked on, unfazed, drawn forward by the the wind that seemed to promise liberation. The grass and flowers beneath his feet failed to hold him back as he pushed beyond the forest’s edge. There, he found himself standing on the brink of a vast, windy field of green, stretching far and wide. In the distance, a white and bronze tower pierced the sky, reaching impossibly high.
“At the very least…be kind—” A final voice whispered, fading into silence.
A smile spread across his face as he set his sights on the distant tower. Curiosity and excitement bubbled up inside him, quickening his steps. Soon, his feet carried him faster, and before he knew it, he was running, eager to reach the strange, towering structure that loomed against the sky.