Days had passed.
Someone watching from the outside might think Aelor was just following his usual routine—walking without purpose, not getting involved in anything. But that wasn't true.
Something had changed. The defense mechanism he had built over centuries had failed for the first time. For the first time, he had broken his own rules.
Since that day, whenever he started walking, whenever he stopped to rest, whenever he took a step, he kept thinking about what happened. Why had he helped that girl? Why didn't he leave her to die like he had done many times before?
The defense that had protected him from bad memories for so long was gone. He thought there had to be a reason. Maybe it was the start of something new. Maybe he wanted to remember what he had tried to forget. Or maybe it was something else.
Something he didn't understand.
But there was one thing he knew for sure: After that day, nothing felt the same. He started to see more towns. More monsters appeared.
Sometimes he saw human patrols. He didn't know why, but they seemed to avoid him. Every time they saw him, they split up and disappeared.
None of them had tried to talk to him. Even if they did, it would be hard to understand each other. Aelor hadn't spoken to a human in centuries. His body might still remember how to talk, but the language had changed.
He noticed this when he saved the little girl. The villagers spoke to him, but he didn't understand anything. The language was completely foreign to him.
Time passed. The sky grew dark. The sound of the wind mixed with the fire's crackle, making a calm, peaceful sound.
That peace was broken by footsteps—slow at first, but getting faster.
They were running. Someone was escaping.
Aelor didn't know from what or from whom. And he didn't really care. But when the footsteps changed direction and came toward him, he knew it didn't matter what the person's goal was anymore.
A young man, probably in his twenties, appeared. He wore torn boots, a damaged outfit with cuts here and there, a short sword at his waist, and a small bag on his back. Aelor didn't know what the man was running from, but the fear was clear on his face. He tried to say something, but his words meant nothing to Aelor. The man didn't know that Aelor didn't understand his language, but he realized it quickly. Disappointed, he turned and continued running.
Normally, someone who runs is being chased. But this time, there was nothing behind him—no human, no animal, no monster, nothing at all.
When morning came, Aelor put out the fire and kept walking. Just like always.
The sun was high in the sky, but thick rain clouds kept the world dark. Everything looked gray and heavy.
In the distance, he saw a cathedral. Unlike the many ruined ones he had seen before, this one was different. It was... new.
"There are still fools who build temples and pray to the gods," he thought. But then he changed his mind.
Since the moment they are born, humans need someone or something to believe in. They always looked for a creator. They prayed to gods, gave offerings, and asked for good harvests. These were pure human feelings.
He didn't blame them. He had once been like that too—long ago.
He kept walking. The cathedral that once looked like a dot in the distance was now only a few hundred meters away. As he got closer, he felt something was wrong.
He had seen hundreds of broken cathedrals before. Built stronger than normal buildings, they often stayed standing even when the rest of a village was gone.
But this one wasn't ruined. It was new. Yet there were no signs of people nearby. No houses, no farms. Just a few footprints on the ground—footprints that came from nowhere and went nowhere.
This wasn't something he could just walk past. He had to check it. Just like he had done before.
He looked at the open door. Inside, it was so dark that even creatures born from shadows would struggle to find their way.
He stepped inside—and felt a strange chill.
The stone floor under his feet was colder than the wind outside. This place didn't just feel physically different—it felt like it belonged to another world. The silence in the cathedral whispered to his mind. It wasn't the kind of silence he knew. This silence... was waiting.
His eyes slowly got used to the darkness. The inside wasn't like old-style cathedrals. It looked like it had been removed from time itself. There were no symbols on the walls. No gods, no altars, no praying figures. Just emptiness—but it was a planned emptiness. Like someone had erased everything on purpose.
As he moved deeper, the sound of his footsteps changed. The stone turned into a different surface—smooth and almost metallic. This floor felt wrong. It didn't belong to this age. It didn't belong to any time he knew.
On the walls, there were thin lines—so faint that they were almost invisible. Could it be writing? Aelor moved closer. When he touched the surface, the lines shimmered and a soft light appeared. Then… a voice spoke.
"Shiroyasha."
It was one of his many names. A name people gave him during the war against the gods, when his white hair made him look like a demon.
"Who are you?" Aelor asked. But there was no answer. Whoever—or whatever—spoke that word seemed to use all its power just to say it.
He kept one hand ready on his sword. He didn't expect an attack, but it was better to be careful.
The cathedral began to change. It no longer looked new or strong. The empty walls slowly revealed old-style patterns—like from the classical age.
When he felt there was nothing more to see, he walked out the way he came.
The change wasn't only inside. The whole cathedral had changed. It looked like time had moved forward. The building that looked brand new just minutes ago now looked centuries old—ruined like all the others.
He looked one last time at the fallen stones. This place, where memory, forgetting, and awakening came together, was behind him now.
He turned away in silence—and continued walking.