Night falls in the Philistines, but there are no stars. The sky is too busy reflecting changes yet to be understood. Within Elyra's chest, three spirals glow:
Blue spiral: Elyra, symbol of an unknown voice
Golden spiral: Virelya, symbol of hope yet to be born
Pale pink spiral—newly formed: The Third Spiral
It does not spin outward. It does not spin inward. It pulses. And from that pulse… another world grows.
As the pulse of the spiral becomes clearer, a gentle sound like the whisper of the wind begins to fill the air, stirring the fine peaceful particles in the light. Elyra's hands feel warm, as if caressed by an unseen presence, and from the depths of her soul, a song slowly begins to resonate—a melody that evokes memories of ancient powers dormant within.
A small world where feelings dwell before being recognized
A circle of light forms beneath Elyra's feet. It is not magic, not teleportation. But a shift in the direction of existence.
In the silence of the night, the aroma of wet earth and fresh wind draws Elyra to the brink between nostalgia and hope. Each gust whispers long-forgotten tales, tingling the delicate nerves of her skin. It feels as if the universe guards unspoken secrets, accessible only to those who truly listen—a reminder of the wordless journey once traversed.
Every step Elyra takes feels like treading upon the soft texture of unvoiced hopes. Chaos becomes harmony as each stride syncs seamlessly with the vibrations of this new world, signifying that even though it lacks form, this place is filled with presence. Here, amid the palette of colors that...
With every step Elyra takes, it feels as though she is treading on the soft texture of unspoken hope. Chaos transforms into harmony as each inch aligns seamlessly with the vibrations of this new world, indicating that even without form, this place is rich with presence. Here, amidst a palette of colors not registered in the known world, Elyra senses the intertwining of destinies painted by the fingers of the wind.
Like ripples in water created by the wind, each breath Elyra takes carries whispers from the souls intertwined with hers, gliding gently through the spaces of time. These faint voices evoke memories of untold stories—a consciousness of loss and discovery, where every wave of emotion forms a bridge to the deepest layers of the soul.
Fitran, Beelzebub, and Elyra are absorbed into a new reality—
a world without land, without sky, without name.
As explorers of eternity, they feel the flow of invisible energy, like an electric current that invigorates their spirits, coursing through the steep valleys of silence, guiding them toward a greater purpose. In this place, with each passing second, they realize that although this world is formless, their presence is creating a new texture upon the canvas of existence.
Their voices, trapped in confusion, softly hummed around them like a veil of secrets. In the silence, they began to feel vibrations from unexpected depths, signaling that although this world was formless, the connected souls still played a significant role in sketching the fate on the blurry sheets of time. Here, in the shaping stillness, they felt the call to a journey unlike any before.
It was as if every heartbeat resonated like a bell echoing the call of the soul, carrying messages from the past and hope for the future. A gentle light pierced through the darkness, revealing a faint outline of what could be achieved, as if the world hinted at endless opportunities for those willing to listen.
The sky: Like a watercolor painting that changes with each breath Elyra takes, where bright and dark colors dance softly together, creating an atmosphere of uncertainty and beauty.
The ground: Not solid, yet walkable; like a mass of mist spilling into reality, so soft and inviting, as if each step held untold stories. In the silence, the ground whispered, holding the traces of lost footsteps, clutching tales that could only be understood by those willing to listen, as if it had its own breath, transcending its trivial matter.
The air was filled with fragments of emotion—more than mere words—such as "curiosity," "first fear," and "love that has yet to find its object," gliding through the ether like ghostly whispers, carrying both warmth and sadness. It was as if the air itself were a silent witness to unspoken longings, enveloping every soul that passed through, dancing gently between the morning dew and the evening breeze, turning each breath into a flow of poetry yearning to be expressed.
Beelzebub stood transfixed, her eyes briefly closed as she felt the subtle currents flowing around her, reminiscent of an unspoken poem that yet clutched at her heart. In this silence, shadows of memories surfaced, reminding her of overlooked moments, as if revealing fragments of a deeper life, filling the emptiness with the vibrant colors of experiences that playfully danced between thought and feeling.
"This is not the real world."
"No… this is deeper than real," replied Fitran, his voice softly trembling with a myriad of emotions that hung in the air. "This… is what we feel but have never known how to convey." Within this embrace of undefined feelings lay a hope tightly bound, waiting to be captured by those brave enough to open the doors to their souls, transforming silence into a mesmerizing harmony.
For the first time, Elyra stood alone, a magical moment where the world seemed to pause for a brief instant to pay its respects. Around her, the flora glimmered with morning dew, seemingly gasping in awe, showcasing the universe's beauty in a single breath, creating a sacred atmosphere enveloped in warmth and love.
Her body remained unchanged. Still an infant. But in this world, she could stand because this world was a part of her. With each heartbeat, the world around her pulsated, as if welcoming a new presence full of hope and curiosity, flowing in harmony. Light from afar gently illuminated the darkness, shining a light on the path ahead, like stars guiding travelers on a quiet night, bestowing new meaning on every step she took.
She gazed at her father and mother, then extended her hand…
…and from her hand emerged a longing that had never been felt before. A longing that was not merely an emotion, but a flow of energy breaking through the bounds of space and time, creating a bridge between hearts and souls. Around them, the air vibrated softly, as if moments earlier it had held all the unexpressed yearning hidden within unspoken history. The aroma of wet earth after the rain danced around, adding depth to the atmosphere, carrying whispers of the wind filled with promises, reminding them of all that had been and all that would come.
It was as if she said:
"I have longed for you… even before I was born." These words resonated in the air, merging with the wind, creating a melody that could only be heard by sensitive souls. The distant lights twinkled softly, as if they understood every thread of feeling spoken, illuminating each longing with a warm light that felt profoundly familiar.
The Third Spiral Activates: "Motus Cordis: Movement of the Heart Without Direction"
From Elyra's back, the third spiral blossomed in a gentle glow. Its light traversed the air, forming patterns that danced as if animating every particle around it. These particles seemed to be called back by deep memories, uniting in a tranquil and majestic dance, opening space for every feeling that crossed their minds. It formed a circle around the three of them like a womb. The circle pulsated, as if inviting forgotten souls to gather, to dance together in unspoken harmony.
Not for protection. Not for battle. But to preserve all the emotions that the world deems unimportant. The whispers of nature softly echo, as if supporting a mission greater than mere survival—gathering all the sidelined feelings in an embrace that touches the soul. Within that gentle vibration, faint whispers emerge, reminding them of buried memories, tearing through the silence with unforgettable sounds.
Love without reason, unspoken fears, fleeting joys, unexplainable wounds. Each of these feelings dances in the spiral light, creating a visual symphony that intertwines with the melodies of their hearts, awakening a nostalgia that lingers in the air, as if the entire world resonates with the same emotional frequency. In the silence that fills the space, the scent of jasmine flowers and mystic mist envelops them in an unspoken longing, making every corner feel alive, as though even the hidden walls are listening to the invisible whispers of repressed emotions.
…all trying to penetrate Eidolon Intima. In the darkness of their souls, a hunger arises for something unattainable, as if striving to open a door to a wonder that always exists yet remains unseen. Occasionally, an orange shimmer emerges through the fog, delighting the eye with a visualization of dreams long forgotten.
Yet it fails. There seems to be an invisible wall separating one world from another.
For the third spiral knows no system.
It only recognizes what is sincere. In the void left by their inability, a light is born from unexpected honesty and a hope that continues to pulse amidst uncertainty. Around them, a faint melody plays, a hidden tune of life, as if inviting every soul to dance with unspoken feelings, transforming from one form to another in the eternal dance of time.
And only genuine feelings can penetrate. Like morning dew that can only settle on the petals of an open flower, effortlessly and without coercion. It is only when the heart reaches into that darkness that it can find the light to guide them inward. The soft voice of the rustling wind accompanies their journey, expressing a longing that seeks to rise again; as if the longing itself strives to transform memories into reality.
Beelzebub embraced Elyra, quietly weeping.
"I don't know if I'm good enough… But you allowed me into your world… even when I still don't fully understand myself."
Fitran knelt, gazing at the third spiral now pulsating in the ground. Soft shadows seemed to dance around him, creating an illusion that could be understood only by an open heart. The spiral, like a living essence, flowed with mystical energy seeping into his skin, eliciting a blend of awe and fear. Around him, bright-colored flora emitted fragrant aromas that touched every sense, radiating harmony that made him feel as if he was connected to every breath in this world.
"If the world tries to silence you, Elyra… I will not defend you with a sword. I will stand still… and embrace everything they call weakness… for that is a strength the world cannot comprehend."
In a silence filled with hope, a purple aurora enveloped them, signaling that something greater than mere reality was vibrating. So many dreams and pains were trapped in the third spiral, as if all experiences merged into a dance of time that was no longer linear. The soft whispers of the wind seemed to encapsulate the buried hopes, wrapping around them with a longing for brighter days and precious moments that remained among the dark shadows.
She was not a baby. Not a monster. Not an idea. She was a child, caught between hope and loss, with a face resembling Elyra's, yet her eyes reflected both Fitran and Beelzebub simultaneously. There, in the stillness, tears shimmered, ready to flow, as if the untold story had united in their gaze, carrying all the emotions that might never be spoken, weaving a thread of hope between that which is lost and that which exists.
As if from an infinite space, a soft light enveloped her, revealing the silhouettes of long-lost memories and evoking the warmth of unforgettable embraces. In gentle, synchronized movements, she appeared to be the souls once fought for, each returning one by one to the embrace of heaven. For a moment, those shadows danced softly, weaving tales long forgotten and hopes ready to be revealed, as if the sounds around were singing nostalgic songs that could only be heard by those with sensitive hearts.
She did not speak.
But she breathed in a way that made the world remember something that had been lost.
"My name is not important…"
"…but I am a desire that does not wish to harm anyone."
As her words flowed with tenderness, a gentle breeze carried the scent of long-forgotten leaves and the whispers of distant voices, as if proclaiming that everything is connected. Amidst the gusts of wind, the moonlight enveloped all with a silvery touch, creating a bridge between reality and dreams, where every figure present in this place is a guardian of unspoken secrets. The world of Eidolon Intima seemed to vibrate, listening, allowing this child's voice to breach the boundaries erected by fear.
Elyra turned. From her heart, the third spiral divided itself—not to escape, but to manifest in external reality.
Surrounding her, a gentle light sparkled, painting mysterious shadows that danced among the towering mystical trees. The aroma of rare flowers that bloomed only at night filled the air with a soothing charm, as if whispering that every feeling has its place in this world. The soft sound of the splashing river echoed, seemingly affirming that everything has a rhythm—a melody carried by the wind and softly trembling leaves, merging into a harmony that remains unspoken.
"Let those who cannot speak… find their place in the world."
"Let feelings… be given space without being mocked."
"Let gentleness… be the reason the world does not shatter."
The world returned. Fitran and Beelzebub stood again above the Philistines. Yet the ground beneath them was no longer the same. Slowly, the colors around them transitioned; enchanting purples flowed in earthy tones, as if signaling that much had been lost and much also promised, thrilling the heart and crushing hope with every sigh of existence.
This transformation is like a rainbow after a storm, embodying every repressed emotional hue. In the corners of the world, illusion and reality unite, weaving an invisible tapestry that connects all souls inhabiting this space. With each passing second, whispers from departed souls touch her spirit, reminding her that their presence never truly disappears, filling voids with memories that flow gently like water in a tranquil pond.
The stones now reveal new colors. The air carries emotions, not mere winds, as if striving to convey messages from forgotten pasts, telling untold stories and jolting the heart with memories trapped in silence. In the corners of the morning dew, hope waits to be unveiled, making silence the most profound language.
And the sky... holds soft voices that history dares not name. Each star stands as a silent witness to buried tales, filling the space with hope and unspoken longing. They shine with a light that reminds us of the essence of 'feeling' itself, glimmering in the silence that touches the soul.
In her mother's embrace, Elyra fell asleep. Yet, from her body, the world continued to write feelings that lacked words. This deep sleep took Elyra on a journey through new dimensions, where each dream seemed to sail in an ocean of emotions, navigating the endless waves of feelings, awakening buried hopes lost in the sea of time.
The night grew darker, and the stars hung in the sky like hopes that never fade, witnessing Elyra's journey in silence, where every second is a breath of eternity, waiting to be immortalized in an unfinished narrative. Under the gentle glow of the moon, shadows danced among the dimness, portraying stories masked behind the darkness of the night, as if calling every soul to join in this symphony of journey, celebrating each moment of life's unexpected beauty.