The world had changed, and the Eternal Garden was no longer what it once was.
The Silver Tree, which had become a symbol of the new order, now glowed with a subdued light. Its branches no longer grew chaotically—they reached out to one another, intertwining into intricate patterns, as if forming a new framework for reality. But even here, amidst the ordered flows of time, something remained unseen, something that did not fit into the new balance.
Emiren felt it.
His connection with those he had absorbed was not painful or troubling, but it never faded. They were within him, and he knew that one day this presence would manifest in a new form. But when and how—he could not yet predict.
— What is your purpose now? — Ardalys asked, gazing into the depths of the Garden.
Emiren hesitated for a moment.
— To observe. To understand.
— And to wait?
He nodded slowly.
— Yes.
But the wait was short.
The Arrival of the Stranger
Darkness had no voice.
It did not speak, did not whisper, did not leave traces. But when it appeared on the horizon, everyone felt it.
The Keepers, who had silently followed events until now, raised their heads. Their eyes, always glowing with cold light, dimmed, as if even they did not believe what they sensed.
And then HE came.
A black figure, moving through the air without leaving traces, without casting a shadow. He was there, yet it was impossible to see him fully—only to feel his presence. He belonged neither to light nor darkness. He was something else.
Emiren immediately understood who he was.
— You had to intervene? — he asked without turning around.
— This was an exceptional case, — came the reply. The voice was neutral, devoid of any emotion, like an echo of reality itself.
— Exceptional for whom?
— For balance.
The Stranger took a step closer, and the space around him seemed to thicken.
— You changed the world, — he said. — This is not a violation. It is the creation of a new order. But with a new order, there always comes that which was never meant to be.
Emiren clenched his fists.
— I know.
— Then you understand what must happen next.
Ardalys lifted his head.
— You mean that…
— That those who are lost must return home, — the Stranger finished his sentence.
And then it happened.
From the shadows hidden among the branches of the Silver Tree, figures began to emerge. They were not like the Unspoken—these had no voices, no form, not even a true presence. They simply were. And there were many of them.
They floated in the air, gliding through space, leaving behind only a feeling of emptiness.
— They do not belong here, — said the Stranger.
— But they already are here, — Emiren replied.
— And that is why I am here.
He extended his hand.
The floating shadows froze. And then they began to move toward him.
They did not resist. They did not try to flee. They simply drifted toward him, as if drawn by something. And one by one, they disappeared into the abyss that opened within him.
Emiren felt them vanish.
Not destroyed.
Returned.
He did not know exactly where. But he knew it was not death, nor oblivion. It was a return home.
When the last of the shadows was gone, the Stranger lowered his hand and looked at Emiren.
— You opened the door.
— I know.
— Will you close it?
Emiren glanced at the Silver Tree.
— I will learn to live with them.
The Stranger held his gaze for a moment.
And then, he smiled faintly.
— You creators are too creative. I can barely keep up with you.
And he vanished.
Only silence remained in his wake.
Emiren took a breath.
A new world was taking shape. But now he knew: behind every step lay a new boundary. And with each boundary came those who would guard it.