Chapter 201: Destiny or Begining???

Flashback – The Sylven Forest

The Sylven Forest breathed like a living giant, its canopy shifting in slow murmurs as if whispering secrets too ancient for human tongues. Young Ghost sat on the low stone bench in the courtyard of the tribal hut, his posture straight despite the bandages around his torso. Pain simmered under his skin, but his expression remained unreadable, eyes sharp, absorbing everything.

Children ran barefoot across the damp earth, their laughter echoing between the towering wooden palisades. Some carried carved wooden toys. Some chased each other with woven leaf crowns. Their innocence felt unreal in such a brutal wilderness.

A few adults tended to a garden of herbs and vegetables, their movements practiced, calm. Others patrolled near the high walls, bows in hand, steps light.

Ghost counted silently.

Two archers on each wall segment.

Three at the gates.

Dozens in the courtyard.

A small tribe… but far more organized than they appeared.

He remembered the old commander’s lectures.

The Sylven Forest was supposed to be untouched.

Dangerous.

Home to beasts and volcanoes hidden under its deceptive green.

Yet here was a settlement.

A thriving one.

With tools.

With structure.

With a culture that felt older than any modern nation he knew.

Who were they?

What were they protecting?

And how did they survive in a territory where normal humans collapsed within days?

“Prince.”

He turned.

It was the girl he’d seen earlier. Young, soft features, wearing handwoven white silk that shimmered faintly under the sunlight. Her eyes were bright, fearless.

“Are you feeling well?” she asked.

Ghost nodded. “Better. Thank you.”

She smiled gently. “I brought something for you.”

He watched as she unwrapped a cloth bundle. A scent of old paper drifted out.

Ghost frowned.

A book?

Here?

She handed it to him.

He turned it over in his hands. The cover was weathered but intact.

Destiny or Beginning

By Nora

Published by The London Press

His heart skipped.

London?

A book published there, found deep inside an untouched forest?

“How did you get this?” he asked.

“It was given to us,” the girl replied. “By the people who used to visit.”

“People?” Ghost pressed.

“They brought seeds, tools, taught us weaving, showed us how to use new farming techniques. They came many years ago but… they never returned.”

His fingers tightened on the book.

“Why give it to me?”

The girl smiled softly. “Because the woman who gave it said someday… someone would come who needed this book. She told us to pass it to that person.”

Ghost’s brows furrowed. “Do you know her name?”

The girl shook her head. “She never told us.”

He flipped open the first yellowed page.

“Have you read it?” he asked.

“I have,” she answered timidly. “But it is too difficult for me.”

Ghost chuckled under his breath, a rare sound.

He began reading.

Words that felt more non-fiction than he imagined.

It’s like a self esteem book. He remembers the books from Graveyard Base, older people read this kind of book.

He continued reading….one line shined like a blade in the dark:

We call it a beginning, but it is the exact instant destiny stops waiting.

The words seared into him.

…

Present. Pearl Villa

The evening sun spilled through the windows, warm and gentle. Miles sat at the living room table, helping Hope and Asher with their homework. His mind, however, wandered far beyond arithmetic and vocabulary.

He rarely let memories surface, but today… that book stayed with him.

That line stayed with him.

The sound of the door opening brought him back.

Daniel and Elena stepped in, returning from the evening walk.

Elena noticed instantly.

“Son? You look lost.”

Miles blinked, refocusing, then forced a smile. “Just thinking.”

Daniel sat down beside him. “Thinking about what?”

Hope and Asher leaned forward, their little faces curious.

Miles looked at the table, then spoke quietly.

“We call it a beginning, but it is the exact instant destiny stops waiting.”

Hope blinked. “What does that mean, big bro?”

Daniel scratched his head. “Sounds philosophical.”

But Elena…

Elena froze.

Her breath caught.

She stared at Miles in a way that made him straighten unconsciously.

“Where did you hear that line?” she whispered.

Miles raised a brow. “Why? Do you know it?”

Elena’s voice softened. “Your father… Edward used to say that.”

Miles stared.

“Dad said that?”

Elena nodded slowly. “Yes. Many times. He said it held a special meaning to him.”

Miles felt something shift inside.

“Mom,” he said quietly, “do you know anyone named Nora?”

Elena frowned. “Nora? No… I don’t think so.”

Miles leaned back. “What a coincidence.”

Elena looked puzzled. “Who is Nora?”

“The author of the book,” Miles replied. “Some tribal people gave it to me. But the strange thing is… the London Press never published it. They have no record of it at all.”

Daniel chuckled lightly. “A mysterious book given by mysterious tribes. Sounds like a story you’d tell kids around a campfire.”

Miles smiled faintly. “I suppose it does.”

Elena clapped her hands lightly. “Alright, that’s enough mystery for tonight. Who is hungry?”

“Meee…” twins said.

Miles exhaled, letting the tension slip away.

“Yeah… I’m hungry too.”

But as he followed them toward the dining table, that same line echoed again.

We call it a beginning, but it is the exact instant destiny stops waiting.

And Miles couldn’t help but wonder…

Who was Nora?

Who sent that book?

And what destiny had been written in its pages, was it really for him?

The answers were coming.

Faster than he expected.

He just didn’t know yet whether to dread them…

or embrace them.

Silverline City

Basil Jefferson stepped onto the familiar ground of Silverline Airport with a heaviness sitting on his shoulders, the same weight he had carried for eighteen long years. The cool evening breeze brushed past him as he adjusted his coat. His phone vibrated.

A message from Thea.

“Grandmaster wants you to meet him personally and assess the situation. Talk to him, but don’t reveal too much. It is not time yet.”

Basil exhaled sharply.

“I figured this would happen,” he muttered to himself. “I wanted him to come and find me… but now, I have to find him first.”

He moved toward the exit, and his driver pulled the sedan forward.

“Good evening, sir,” the driver greeted.

“Good evening,” Basil replied, settling into the back seat. “Tell me. Is he here yet?”

“He will return tomorrow with his family.”

Basil nodded, staring out of the window at the twinkling city lights.

“Good.”

The driver hesitated, then added quietly, “He… sounded odd, sir.”

Basil’s eyes softened, but only slightly. “You know him. He is always like that after his mother passed away.”

Silence lingered between them, filled only by the hum of the engine. Basil closed his eyes, steadying the storm inside him.

“Tomorrow, then,” he whispered to himself. “We meet tomorrow.”

…

Germany, Munich

Night fell gently over Munich, its streets glowing with soft golden lights. The cozy city seemed peaceful, unaware of the rot hidden in its shadows.

Hilda Klein stepped out of the airport terminal, waving gracefully to a few admirers who recognized her. The “Women’s Angel,” they called her.

The voice of courage.

A survivor.

A symbol.

Hilda Klein, the famous women’s rights activist, had a huge fan following. She built her image on her own story, claiming she was a victim of domestic violence, beaten often by her husband. She struggled to free herself and raised her voice publicly, gathering massive support from women across the city. Her husband was convicted and later died in prison, or at least that is what the world believes.

But behind that polished mask, Hilda Klein was the biggest human sex trafficker in Germany.

She ran everything underground. The agencies tried for years to uncover the real culprit, but she was always ten steps ahead, always appearing innocent.

She is a member of treasure hunters, who is preparing for the biggest hunt of her life.

Hilda Klein remained untouchable.

Untouchable and adored.

Or so she believed…

She returned to her pristine apartment building, smiling perfectly at neighbors who waved and greeted her warmly.

“Welcome home, Miss Klein!”

“A pleasure to see you again!”

She played along, unlocking her door and stepping inside.

Her apartment was silent.

Clean.

As she had left it.

But something—something small—was wrong.

An envelope lay on the floor near the threshold, slipped under the door.

Hilda froze.

Her hand trembled as she approached it, though she forced herself to breathe evenly, to keep her mask calm. She bent down and picked it up.

No stamp.

No address.

Just three words handwritten on the front.

She turned it over.

Her fingers went cold.

Her heart began to pound violently.

She stared.

The envelope slipped from her shaking hands, fluttering down onto the immaculate white carpet.

The words on its surface were simple.

But to her… they were death itself.

“MESSAGE FROM GHOST”

Her breath hitched.

A choked sound escaped her throat.

Ghost.

The nightmare of her life.

Years ago, she had barely survived an encounter with him.

The night she remembered only in flashes.

Rain.

A hooded figure.

A blade glinting.

A scream that belonged to someone else.

A warning carved into her soul..

She thought she was safe.

But now…

Hilda stumbled backward until she hit the wall, her whole body trembling uncontrollably.

“He found me…” she whispered, horror tightening around her throat. “Ghost found me…”

Outside, Munich continued its peaceful evening.

Inside, Hilda Klein felt the walls closing around her like a noose.

To be continued…

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