The world after equilibrium was no longer the same.
Emiren’s silver tree no longer grew as it once had—its branches now resembled petrified streams of time, woven together into intricate knots. The black entities that had once escaped beyond existence no longer wandered the space aimlessly. They had become part of his essence, and though Emiren could not feel them directly, he knew: they no longer destroyed the world but were now inscribed into it, like an invisible shadow at his back.
But that did not mean everything was over.
— What now? — Ardalys asked, looking around. He seemed exhausted, his voice subdued, as if he still could not believe what had happened.
Emiren took a breath; the air felt heavier than before.
— We established a boundary, — he replied. — But we don’t yet know how strong it is.
— A boundary? — a voice spoke, still cold and steady.
The One Who Guards the Balance stood motionless, as if he needed neither movement nor time to exist. His presence was barely perceptible yet undeniable.
— A boundary is not something permanent, — he continued. — It exists only as long as it is upheld.
— Upheld? — Ardalys raised an eyebrow. — You mean it can disappear?
— Not only disappear. It can change.
Emiren looked again at the silver tree.
When he had created it, it symbolized the balance between light and shadow, between possibility and reality. Now it resembled a knot of intertwined streams holding something within.
But what would happen if that knot unraveled?
— We have accepted them within us, — Emiren said, — but does that mean we will always be able to contain them?
The One Who Guards the Balance did not respond immediately. He simply stepped forward and extended his hand toward the tree. His fingers did not touch the bark, but the light and shadows around them stirred, reacting to his presence.
— Balance is not a wall, — he finally said. — It is a bridge. If you stop, it will collapse. If you move too fast, it will crumble.
— So we have to… maintain the balance? — Ardalys shook his head. — But how?
The One Who Guards the Balance turned to him.
— You are part of this world. That means you are now the balance itself.
Emiren felt something shift inside him.
He was no longer just someone who shaped the streams of time. He had become something more—the one who upheld them.
But if that was true…
Slowly, he extended his hand toward the silver tree.
When his fingers touched the bark, he felt a wave of power surge through him. It was not an alien presence—it was a part of himself.
The shadows, which had once been uncontrollable, responded to his touch. They no longer trembled chaotically. They waited.
— I can control them… — he murmured.
— Not control, — the One Who Guards the Balance corrected. — Guide.
Emiren exhaled.
This was a new responsibility.
But he understood that there was no other way.
— Very well. We will watch over the balance.
Yet even in that moment, he knew: this was only the beginning.