Time moved strangely for Rinve.
Days felt long, yet years passed far too quickly. His body grew slowly, while his mind remained awake observing this new world with a patience no child his age should possess.
By the time he turned three, Rinve could already walk with steady steps. He rarely spoke, preferring silence and observation. The villagers saw him as a quiet child perhaps too quiet but none of them truly suspected anything unusual.
Except one person.
Levane.
His mother often watched Rinve as he played alone in the yard. He never played aimlessly. He gathered small stones and arranged them in repeating patterns, carefully fixing them whenever one shifted, as if he understood balance without ever being taught.
Sometimes, watching him sent a chill down her spine.
"Rinve," she called softly one afternoon.
The child looked up. His gaze was clear far too focused for a three-year-old.
"What are you doing?"
Rinve glanced at the stones, then shrugged his small shoulders.
"Looking."
Just one word. No mistake. No excess.
Levane smiled faintly, though her heart felt uneasy. She didn't know what Rinve was seeing but she was certain it wasn't just stones.
Galor began taking Rinve outside more often.
At first, they only walked around the village. Later, they went as far as the forest's edge. Galor didn't train him not yet. He simply wanted his son to grow familiar with nature, with the soil, the wind, and the rustling leaves.
But Galor noticed small things.
Rinve never tripped.
He always stopped just before large roots or slippery stones.
His steps were light almost silent.
"Where did you learn to walk like that?" Galor asked one day.
Rinve stared at the ground ahead.
"The ground tells me."
Galor chuckled, dismissing it as a child's imagination.
But the laughter never reached his eyes.
Because deep down, Galor knew no ordinary child would say something like that.
Rinve himself began to sense the change.
Not in his body, but within.
Something was growing slowly, like a seed buried far too deep. He couldn't see it. He couldn't touch it. Yet he felt it every time he remained still.
Whenever he closed his eyes and calmed his breathing, a warm sensation slowly spiraled in his chest. Not strong. Not weak.
Locked.
So this is the limit…
Rinve didn't try to break through it. He had already learned that this world disliked those who moved too quickly. He chose to observe to wait for the right time.
Yet the longer he waited, the clearer it became
That seed should not exist.
One night, rain fell without warning.
Thunder roared in the distance, shaking the sky. Rinve woke abruptly, his heart pounding not from fear, but from a strange pressure filling the room.
The air felt heavy.
Like the moment between life and death.
Rinve sat up on his small bed, staring at his hands. The warmth in his chest pulsed stronger than ever, as if responding to something outside.
Is this… a call?
He didn't know.
But for the first time since his rebirth, Rinve felt it
The world was watching him directly.
The next day, the village felt wrong.
People gathered, whispering anxiously. Galor stood in the center of the square, speaking with several men, their expressions tense.
"A beast from the deep forest," one said.
"Not a wolf. Too large."
Levane tightened her grip on Rinve.
"Is it safe?"
"For now," Galor replied after a sigh. "But we must stay alert."
Rinve listened calmly.
Yet inside him, the seed trembled faintly.
That night, he couldn't sleep.
He rose quietly and stepped outside. Cold wind brushed his skin, yet he felt no chill. He stared toward the forest toward the darkness that seemed thicker than before.
And for a brief moment
Something answered his gaze.
Not a sound.
Not a shape.
Only presence.
Rinve stepped back.
Not yet…
He knew it wasn't time.
But the world had already begun to move.
Galor found Rinve outside.
"Why are you here?" he asked, firm but not angry.
Rinve looked at his father.
"The forest… woke up."
Galor froze.
He didn't ask further. He simply lifted Rinve and carried him back inside, holding him tighter than usual.
That night, Galor kept watch with his sword in hand.
And Rinve stayed awake within his dreams.
In his sleep, Rinve saw a shadow.
Vague. Incomplete. A silhouette standing deep within the mist. It didn't move, yet its presence pressed heavily upon him.
You…
The shadow did not respond.
But Rinve knew
It was not an enemy.
Not yet.
Morning came peacefully, as if the night before had never happened.
But something had changed.
Rinve awoke feeling different. The seed in his chest felt clearer more real. Not open, but no longer fully hidden.
Like a door left slightly ajar.
He stared at the morning sun and clenched his small fist.
I understand now.
This isn't about power.
It's about time.
Levane watched Rinve that day.
He looked the same as always quiet, calm, obedient. Yet something in his eyes had changed. Not darkness. Not light.
But readiness.
"Galor," she whispered that night.
"What… will Rinve become?"
Galor stared into the campfire.
"I don't know."
His hand tightened on his knee.
"But whatever he becomes… this world will remember his name."
And far beyond the villagedeep within a forest untouched by arrive
Something opened its eyes.
The seed that should not exist
had finally been acknowledged by the world.
He was not strong.
He was not trained.
Yet the world had recorded his existence.
And when that day arrived
No one would be able to pretend
that Rinve was just an ordinary child.
The world did not react with sound.
No earthquake.
No light from the heavens.
No sign visible to ordinary people.
But to something older than villages, older than kingdoms older even than history
Rinve's existence could now be felt.
Like a tiny ripple on the surface of a vast lake.
In a place without sun or night, an ancient mechanism stirred. Invisible chains trembled not from force, but because a variable that should never have appeared… had finally emerged.
Anomaly detected.
Not in human language.
Not in sound.
But in law.
The laws of the world examined Rinve's existence, traced its origin, attempted to match it with available fates
And failed.
He did not fit.
Not because he was too strong.
But because he should not exist.
Rinve awoke, breathing shallowly.
He sat up, cold sweat soaking his small back. His chest felt tight not painful, but heavy, as if something from outside was trying to touch what lay within.
They… see me.
The thought came calmly, without panic.
He glanced at Levane and Galor, still asleep. Their faces were peaceful, unaware. The world was watching Rinve and only Rinve knew.
He closed his eyes and steadied his breath.
For a brief moment, he felt something extremely cold
Then retreat.
Like a hand hesitating before touching fire.
Morning came.
Levane woke with a bad feeling. She looked at Rinve, sitting quietly as he watched sunlight spill through the window. He seemed normal but pressure weighed on her chest.
"Rinve…" she called softly.
He looked up.
"Mother?"
She hesitated. She wanted to ask if he was hurt, or afraid, or troubled by nightmares but the words wouldn't come.
Instead, she said,
"You're… alright?"
Rinve nodded.
"Yes."
One word. Calm. Reassuring.
Yet Levane felt tears nearly fall.
Galor felt it too.
As he grasped his sword that morning, a faint vibration ran through the hilt barely noticeable. He had wielded that blade for years. He knew when steel reacted to something abnormal.
"This isn't a coincidence," he muttered.
He looked at Rinve. Then toward the forest.
Galor didn't know what was coming. But his warrior's instinct screamed the same warning again and again
The quiet time is ending.
Elsewhere, far from the village, someone opened her eyes.
A young woman with light-colored hair stood in a stone chamber filled with ancient symbols. Her hands trembled as the crystal before her emitted a dim glow a glow that should not exist.
"This… is impossible," she whispered.
That crystal only reacted to certain existences. Entities capable of influencing the world's course.
And now
The light pulsed steadily.
"SSS…?" she muttered.
"No. The world sealed that long ago."
Yet the light did not fade.
It stabilized.
Rinve knew none of this.
He only knew that the day felt different.
His steps were lighter. His hearing sharper. Without thinking, he avoided fragile corners of the house—as if he instinctively knew what might collapse.
He didn't feel stronger.
He simply felt… more present.
So this is what it feels like… when the world begins to notice.
Rinve sat on the ground, staring at the blue sky.
He didn't want to be a hero.
Didn't want to be the center of war.
Didn't want to be anyone's tool.
Yet deep within him, the seed pulsed faintly reminding him that his desires might not align with the will of the world.
That night, the wind grew colder again.
Rinve stood at the doorway, gazing into the same darkness as before.
But this time
He did not step back.
He simply stood there.
And the world
for the first time
did not look away.