Aethers sighed as the giant gate of the City was left behind him. He turned to it, to take one last look, and he remembered when he had first seen it. He couldn’t be happier after getting over the whole small gap over nothing thing he had to cross. Seeing a gate that led to the city, it really gave him hope.

It was strange, it felt as if that had happened a day ago, his coming to the city, but really, three whole months have passed since then. That was… a long time. Really, he just wanted to be done with this. After all, he was fourteen and still hadn’t awakened, and fifteen wasn’t even that far away. It was actually closer than he wished to say.

He needed to awaken already, since if he kept this pace, he was never going to be strong enough. After all, he has spent our five years as a reader, five whole years as the weakest you can be.

With only recently even gotten his rank up.

He was a prince… or at least was, royalty is supposed to be able to climb up the ranks fast. I mean, royal blood can awaken before anyone, even fate knows that they had a faster progression.

So he should have been a Seeker long ago.

Or at least that was what he would have said.

He was in no way… a prince.

Or rather, he was in no way the same prince he was, the same prince the people of his kingdom were used to. Even if he went back, would they even recognize him? Would they accept who he was, who he had become? Or would they cling to who he was?

He had long let go of his child self, of his beliefs, after all… what’s useful about a boy who can’t bear death?

Would his family even want him back?

…

Aether sighed, looking at the gate. The next time he was going to see it was after learning the way on how to harm Denial… the next time he saw this gate, he was going to escape this place.

Aether turned away, looking in the distance. He didn’t know where he was going, and neither did he know if he was going to survive. After all, he had encountered two monsters so far outside of town, and both almost killed him; he only survived because of the Abyss.

The Tides hid many terros all waiting to take a tear at your mind, so he tried to be in the best mood, happy, and excited… but for what? What would he even try to be excited about, finding a way to get back to life? That was just… sad.

Excited about getting an existence, it… wasn’t like.

Really, a strange thing this morning, the shadows were a lot more alive this morning, they were moving a lot, and there were a lot more than usual, as if they were trying to see what he was going to do, as if they were trying to study him.

‘Let them watch, it’s like they can do anything.’

He had better things to do…

Aether looked at the horizon, staring with his heart beating into his chest like a sledgehammer.

…

…

The ground sloped downward as he walked, the path breaking into uneven terraces like steps carved by something patient and uncaring. Ruins began to appear the farther he went, not all at once, but in fragments. A half-buried pillar here, a collapsed arch there. None of them felt freshly broken. They felt old in the way bones feel old, stripped of purpose and left behind.

Some structures leaned together, stone pressed to stone, as if they had tried to support each other when the city fell. Others stood alone, stubborn spires rising out of the mist, their surfaces etched with patterns that no longer meant anything to him. Symbols curled across the rock like frozen currents, lines looping into spirals that made his eyes linger longer than they should have. He forced himself to look away.

As he passed one ruin, he noticed a doorway that led nowhere. The frame was intact, smooth and polished, but behind it was only stone, solid and unbroken. Someone had sealed it deliberately. His fingers twitched at his side, an urge he did not act on. Doors without answers were worse than walls.

The air grew colder as he descended, dampness seeping into his clothes. Every breath tasted faintly of salt and metal, as if the sea had once ruled this place and refused to leave quietly. He could hear something too, not a sound exactly, more like pressure against his ears. A distant, constant hum, low enough that it blended with his heartbeat.

He passed a plaza next, or what might have been one. The floor widened into a circular space, cracked into uneven plates. At its center stood a statue, broken at the chest. Whatever it had once depicted was impossible to tell now. Time had worn its face smooth, erased its hands, hollowed its posture into something almost apologetic. Around its base lay fragments of smaller figures, shattered offerings, or maybe worshippers turned to rubble.

The shadows pooled strangely here. They gathered in the cracks between stones, clung to the undersides of fallen slabs. When he stepped through them, they recoiled slightly, then settled again, restless. He kept his pace steady. Stopping felt like inviting something to notice him properly.

Farther on, the ruins changed shape. Buildings became lower, wider, their roofs collapsed inward. He walked past what looked like old dwellings, doorways narrow, windows set too high. Some interiors were visible through broken walls. Empty rooms, bare stone floors, no signs of furniture or warmth. Lives had existed here once, long enough to leave echoes, not long enough to leave comfort.

One structure caught his attention more than the rest. Its walls were intact, though warped, the stone twisted as if softened and reshaped by pressure. The entrance was sealed with layers of mineral growth, pale and translucent, like calcified waves frozen mid-crash. He stood there for a moment, staring at it, feeling something pull at him. Not curiosity. Recognition.

He moved on.

The mist thickened, swallowing the ruins behind him as quickly as they appeared ahead.

Made him wonder, was the Tides a real place before it became what it is today? Were these ruins homes and places people used to be around? And if that was the case, what had happened to the Tides, how did it become this… underwater world of denial, at the depths of the world.

Was it the coming of the Demon of Dread?

And more importantly, was the Tides always the realm of the dead, or was it just something that came into existence with the Demon of Dread?

He had so many questions about this place, and no answer to any of them. Really ironic when you consider none of his questions ever got answered in this place. I mean, just how many people were going to keep the truth hidden from him. Like, come on.

Why was he always the one in the dark, whose vision is clouded by mist, the one whose ears had gone deaf from trying too hard to hear? Why did he have to be the one who had lost his taste from trying to find a flavour he wished to feel?

He frowned, kicking a small piece from the ruins that had fallen down at his feet.

The rock had hit a statue, one of those weird statues that were all around this place, which didn’t do absolutely anything. What was up with their deal? Why were there so many of them, who built them all? Who was the crazy maniac who thought it was a good idea?

But then the eyes of the statue suddenly open, making him freeze. They glowed bright white, just like Denial did. He wondered, was it a coincidence, or was this white glow everywhere denial was.

Buy why white, why not black?

…

“Because denial tries to act like it’s good…”

He swallows, as the statues raised its feet and crushed the small part of the ruin that he had kicked and that had landed at its feet.

These things… they came alive whenever someone was close to them. Whenever they were touched, they would activate, or at least, that was what he figured out, since after it crushed the rock, it went back to sleep.

They only wish to destroy the one who had touched them, nothing else.

Meaning that if he didn’t want to be crushed by a foot made out of pure stone, which was definitely not hollow on the inside, but pure stone, inside and out.

Aether cleared his throat as he passed by the being, holding a great distance between them, just in case the statue randomly decided to wake up.

But it didn’t.

He sighed in relief as he got past it.

“After how many times it had happened, i really need to learn that most statues are alive.”

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