"Illusions are all we have," the man replied, watching as the tree beside him began to change its colors, the leaves cycling through the seasons in mere moments, reflecting his shifting mood. He flicked his finger lazily, and the mug at his side stretched and yawned before pouring itself a cup of tea.

“And what of these visitors?" she asked, a note of curiosity in her voice. "They seem to come more frequently these days."

"Ah, the visitors," he sighed, leaning back in his leafy chair. "They think they’re seeking something grand—some secret to bend reality as we do. Yet they’re but infants, stumbling in the dark."

"And what shall we do with them?" she inquired, her expression unreadable. A rose beside her bloomed and withered within seconds, as though reflecting the fleeting nature of her thoughts.

"Play with them, perhaps," he suggested, a grin spreading across his face. "Toy with their expectations, lead them down paths that twist and turn."

"Or we could guide them," she offered, though her tone carried a hint of amusement, suggesting she was not entirely serious. "Show them the futility of their desires."

"How dull," he remarked, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. "No, I’d rather see how they react when their dreams are within reach, only to be snatched away at the last moment."

"You are cruel," she teased, though she did not seem disapproving. Her hand waved through the air, and the colors of the garden shifted once more, taking on cooler, calmer hues. The leaves around them turned a soft blue, and the light of the perpetual twilight grew softer, more introspective.

"Only as cruel as reality itself," he said, his voice almost a whisper as if sharing a secret with the wind. "But tell me, do you not wonder what it would be like to step beyond your garden, beyond your realm, and see the worlds these visitors come from?"

She considered this for a moment, her eyes distant. "Perhaps... but why leave when everything I need is here? The world beyond is chaos, uncontrollable."

"Chaos can be beautiful," he said, his voice a touch more serious. "It is in chaos that we find the rawest, most unfiltered truths."

"Truths or delusions?" she asked, though now there was a hint of genuine curiosity in her voice. The tea in her cup rippled, changing colors from a deep, serene green to a vibrant red.

"Does it matter?" he asked, leaning forward. "In the end, all that matters is the experience, the journey, and the moments we create along the way."

She smiled at that, a slow, thoughtful smile. "Perhaps you're right," she admitted. "Perhaps it is time to see what lies beyond the garden walls."

"Then let us welcome these visitors properly," he suggested, standing up from his chair of leaves, which instantly disintegrated and swirled back into the air. "Let us show them the beauty of the unexpected."

"And the danger of desires unfulfilled," she added, her voice laced with a hint of warning.

Together, they flicked their fingers, and the garden around them began to shift, transforming into a landscape both beautiful and terrifying, a place where anything could happen, and nothing was as it seemed.

As the first of the new visitors arrived, stepping tentatively into this strange, ever-changing world, the man and the woman watched with anticipation, ready to weave a tapestry of dreams and nightmares, of illusions and truths.

And so, the game began, with some of its contestants unaware of their participation.

…

Waking up was a hassle, not much that I could recall. I was blind the moment I opened my eyes, the unrelenting glare of the sun beating down on me.

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The chirping of birds echoed faintly, noon was approaching. Inspecting my surrounding, I could help but not the fact that a lot seems to had happened.

Blinking against the light, I inspected my luxurious chamber I was in, becoming more thrilled the more I realized where I was. Obviously I’m not serious, I’m for fuck sake in a deep pit, its stone walls towering way above me, with nothing but dirt beneath my feet.

Realization dawned on me, this was what the villagers called “The hole,” a holding place for offenders awaiting judgment… it seems like I’ve been captured… oh well… this is a ittle tragic. To think I was feets away from escaping my doom… who knows, maybe this is for the better!

Shaking my head to get rid of the gloomy thoughts, I stared up at the bright sky, the sound of approaching footsteps reverting throughout thee pit. Shadows fell over the edge, and I saw the faces of the elders peering down at me.

Their eyes with a hint of pity and disdain, the same eyes that most of the villagers star at me with. Their faces were masked of stern disapproval, even Lyra did not spare me much of her time, she left quickly too, although she did look at me with guilt and shame.

“Bring him,” Lyra ordered, throwing the command before leaving.

All the elders by then had turned and walked away, giving me only brief, disdainful glances. My heart started beating wildly, I felt betrayed, my hope of survival sinking further

Two guards quickly threw down a wooden ladder. Every fiber of me screamed to resist, do not climb it, my heart commanded, but I knew better. The consequences of disobedience would be far worse.

Climbing slowly, I felt the weight of my dread increase with every inch as I got closer to the surface. At the top, the guards without hesitation binned me done… that was a new experience!!

I’ve never felt more humiliated. They roughly chained my hands and feet and led me away, as if I was going to run.

Dragging the chains, I was paraded through the village, it was as if the elders were making a statement. My thoughts grew darker, killing intent growing in me the more I walked.

I could feel the eyes of the villagers on me. They whispered and pointed, their accusations cutting deeper than any blade. I was too ashamed to meet their eyes, I kept my gaze fixed on the ground.

It felt like a century had passed, but it was merely a few minutes. The terrain eventually changed to paved stones as we neared the center of the village. The great hall loomed ahead, guarded by imposing armored figures.

…

Zarek didn’t dare look them in the eyes, instead, he chose to keep his head bowed and continued walking, dragging his chains along.

The guards brought him to the massive doors of the great hall, the furthest point they were allowed to reach. One of them knocked, and a loud, authoritative voice echoed from within, “He can enter!”

Bowing and stepping back, they waited for Zarek to enter, when he took too long, they pushed him through the door, knocking him down to the floor. Kneeling, the heavy doors closed behind him with a deafening thud, sealing the only exit and reminding him of the fate that awaits.

With great difficulty, he got up, steeled his heart and stepped forward. Every step he took echoed through the grand hall, the sound amplifying his anxiety.

He looked up and saw seven thrones arranged in a semicircle, with a large fire burning in the center. This was the infamous fire everyone in the village knew about, believed to be the gate to hell caused by one of the stars that fell in ancient times. It had been burning for thousands of years, a symbol of their divine protection.

The heat from the fire radiated out, warming the stone floor and casting flickering shadows on the walls. As he marveled at the sight, Aren’s voice broke through his thoughts, commanding, “Come closer, boy!”

Zarek did as he was told, moving to stand in front of the fire, the elders’ thrones surrounding him. All the seats were occupied except one. His thoughts raced, images of his father racing through his head.

A sharp sound of a cane hitting the solid floor brought him back to the present. The eldest elder, Rina, spoke, her tone neutral, “Tell us, boy, what made you kill your father?”

The words hit him like a physical blow. “I didn’t kill him!” he shouted, his voice trembling with all kinds of emotion, from anger to sadness, to feeling betrayed.

Varek got up and stepped forward while pointing his finger. “You were the last to see him alive, and you ran away immediately after, if you didn’t kill him, why and whom were you running from?”

Zarek looked around desperately, considering what to say. “I ran because… because I was scared!!” he said, his voice weak, understanding fully well that his argument wasn’t strong enough.

Alaric, clad in full armor, leaned forward. “who helped you escape, boy?”

Zarek hesitated. “No one!!” he replied, his eyes looking down, “No one helped me do anything.”

“You dare lie boy!! … This boy tells a lot of lies, he knows far more than he is letting us. We must dig deeper,” Varek loudly insisted.

Lyra, covered her face and shook her head. “We need more than just your word, Zarek!! We need proof.”

Zarek stood silent, his lips pressed tight. The elders’ questions and accusations flew at him, but he stubbornly repeated, “It wasn’t me.”

Jorim looked at him with narrowed eyes. “You must speak the truth, boy. Its for your own good!”