LIGHTNOVELONLINE (Chapter 39) The Wandering Warden
The sun was high in the sky, casting warm rays over a bustling town. The market square in particular was alive with activity: merchants shouted their wares, the elderly haggled over prices, and children ran laughing through the packed streets.
Amidst this lively scene, walked a black man, the most striking feature being his eyes—distant, impassive, and searching. He wore a chiton, an ancient garment, with glistening gold chains hanging from his shoulders and limbs. Both the chains and white fabric flowed gracefully around him, almost in a spectral way, as he moved through the crowd without a sound. A white turban completed his look, which protected him from the sunlight—a worthless item in retrospect, as the man couldn't feel the sun's warmth anyways.
A child then tripped right in front of him, falling to the ground and bringing an abrupt stop to his laughter. As the child raised his head, the man could see that his fall was bad enough to break through the skin, causing minor bleeding on the child's hands and knees.
A few seconds of silence passed by as the man watched the child's face contort more and more from the pain. His eyes, while at first wide with shock, became shiny as tears started to well. He couldn't hold back the wave of emotion that followed the pain as his entire face fell.
Suddenly, his mouth opened in a split second silent scream, only to then be paired with the wail no sane adult could ignore. His tears came gushing out like a broken dam, spilling over his cheeks.
The man, who felt an immediate, yet unknown, protective instinct, reached out to soothe the boy.
However, his hand passed through them. Something that would happen once again as a woman rushed to the boy's aid, completely phasing through the man.
Confusion flickered in the man's blinking eyes, but his face remained overall emotionless. Staring at the mother trying to soothe her child on the ground for a few moments, the man continued, phasing through both of them along the way.
He walked slowly and deliberately, as if afraid he could miss an important clue at any given step. His brow furrowed and eyes darted around his surroundings, prying for any answers to a mystery he himself didn't quite understand.
Still, the only thing he saw was the townspeople, who continued to bustle around him, oblivious to his presence.
A blacksmith hammered at his forge, sparks flying. Women carried baskets of produce, chatting amongst themselves. An elderly man inspected a wooden cart, his weathered hands tracing the rim of a bronze vase upon it. Nothing amiss was in sight.
That is, until the elderly man turned around and looked at the mysterious man, as if he saw the man’s reflection right behind his own in the vase’s lustrous surface.
“Hey!” The elderly man yelled as he pointed straight at the mysterious man, surprise exuding from his entire face.
For the first time since he appeared in this world, the man's face adopted an expression, of which was one of slight shock as his eyes widened. He felt a fleeting sense of relief at the prospect of finally being seen.
Opening his mouth to speak, not one word would come out as the elderly man ran straight through the mysterious man.
While the elderly man did see something in the bronze vase's reflection, it wasn't the mysterious man. Instead, it was a presumed thief, who had some items in his hands and was trying his best to make as little noise as possible, indicative via the long, exaggerated steps he took.
As soon as the elderly man started running after him though, the thief quickly booked it down the street, dropping some items with his elderly pursuer in tow.
That only left the mysterious man back at the wooden cart, whose face fell back into an emotionless state, albeit with a tinge of sadness in his eyes.
Defeated, the man could only stand there, pondering on his existence. Children, teenagers, adults, elders, horses, dogs, cats, seconds, minutes, eventually even hours passed along like it was nothing.
The sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. The market started to wind down; merchants packed up their stalls, and townspeople made their way home. The man remained in the center of the road, unmoving, a silent witness to the town's daily life.
As night fell, the street grew quiet, to the point even a normal passerby could hear the scurrying of rats. The man finally sat down on the cobblestones, folding his legs beneath him, continuing to ponder to himself.
“Just what is this…” He questioned as he looked down at the palms of his hands. “Where I am is known, this place…is Eranovum, and yet… Who am I… Why am I here… What is…what is my purpose…”
Closing his hands into fists, he looked up at the stars beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky, his expression unchanged. The town around him was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, yet, still no one saw him.
A gust of wind would flow into the streets, blowing his cloth and chains around, which chimed ominously. Alas, he couldn't even feel the coldness of the wind—all he felt was empty.
Mulling over his situation even further, it was then that something caught his eye in the night sky. A group of flickering lights with a bright blue star in the middle—Adam’s Constellation.
Staring at the stars for a moment, a sudden strike of familiarity overloaded his senses, as if something from the stars was calling out to him specifically.
Not long after, another gust of wind would hit him, carrying along with it an unknown, yet oddly familiar, voice. The gentle voice whispered into his ear, so close, he could actually feel the warmth of an exhale against his skin. “Saa’ir…”
“Saa’ir…!?” The man thought as his eyes widened with shock. The name sounded familiar, too familiar in fact, as if he heard it a thousand times before in a distant past—his past. “That’s… That’s my name, Saa'ir… I remember now…!”
Letting curiosity take hold of his mind, Saa'ir tried to open his mouth once more, only to realize that he couldn't. Not only that, but he couldn't move a single muscle—he was stuck, seemingly jailed within his own body.
The only thing Saa'ir could do was to continue looking up at the stars. As he did, his shock would only grow witnessing the very stars bend and move of their own whim.
Some drifted apart, some merged together, all in an effort to create an image for the amnesiac Saa'ir. An image that quickly became several, eight to be exact.
The images were of special symbols—symbols that struck a chord deep within him. They were also familiar, both the designs and the dark power each emanated. Power that once unleashed, could destroy the entire world. Maybe, even the entire galaxy, and beyond…
Before he could ponder another question, or even blink, Saa’ir found himself standing in a vast, ethereal-blue space, surrounded by the very stars he was just looking up at.
What laid before him now were eight distinct figures. Each figure stood in front of one of the symbols, etched in a shimmering light that casted shadows onto them, hiding their faces, leaving only their eyes and certain characteristics in view.
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Next: (Chapter 40) The Wandering Warden: Part 2