Year 636, Imperial Age
For the first time in one hundred and forty-seven years, no one in the Old World was due to pass away for the next two hours.
Raymond seized the opportunity to settle at a table on the terrace of a café in the Gilded Peaks. A steaming cup of coffee clasped between his fingers, he gazed at the buildings of Vermilhaut stretching around him, their facades painted in vivid yellow, orange, and red, blazing under a sun that never seemed to set.
The streets, winding through the city, were often interrupted by sets of stone stairs, allowing residents and visitors to navigate the shifting terrain.
Overlooking the city, the Castle of Dawns watched over its people, its slender towers and flags dancing with the wind.
From his table, Raymond could see the Valmara Strait separating the Gilded Peaks from the Hellenic Duchy, and he made out Valdoré, the Duchy’s capital, on the opposite shore. This neighboring city, just as colorful and lively, mirrored Vermilhaut’s style and ambiance but with its own shades and red-tiled roofs sparkling in the sunlight.
The music of a lyre began to drift through the air, weaving a melody that mingled with the laughter of children playing nearby and the animated conversations buzzing around him. Everything, from the climbing vines adorning balconies to the sweet scents of freshly baked pastries, tickled Raymond’s senses.
At that precise moment, no one in the world was as happy as he was.
His gaze was suddenly drawn to a young man sitting at a nearby table. His attire was most curious: a voluminous burgundy cape adorned with golden patterns and topped with a single rune. His blond hair was a disheveled mess.
Lately, Raymond had been crossing paths with this young man at an alarming frequency, he thought, and each encounter seemed to bring something strange. A series of troubling coincidences, he mused, watching the young man sip his drink with nonchalance.
In one swift gulp, Raymond finished his coffee and, without a backward glance, slipped into the Breath to approach the young man. He took a seat on the chair across from him, or rather on what passed for one, since objects in the Breath were mostly made of mist, and closely examined the young man.
Normally, with a single glance, Raymond could learn much about someone: their name, age, and day of death. But looking at him, he saw nothing.
Raymond studied the young man with perplexity; there was something curious about him, something almost divine. Almost.
The young man looked up at Raymond, revealing deep blue irises.
"Hello," he said simply.
"What... You can see me?" Raymond stammered.
"Of course, why wouldn’t I?" the young man replied.
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"Well, people usually can’t see into the Breath."
"Hmmm, that’s what you call this place?" the young man said, glancing around.
Raymond nodded, surprised by his reaction. Who could perceive the Breath so easily?
"Excuse me, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Raymond," he said, extending his hand.
The young man smiled and shook Raymond’s hand with surprising firmness.
"Oh, I’m aware. I’m a big fan."
"A fan?" Raymond replied, dumbfounded.
"Of course, few beings are nearly omniscient and omnipotent. Even the Creator, despite his vast knowledge, can’t hold a candle to you."
Raymond was speechless, then, regaining his composure, asked, "And you are?"
The young man looked at him with amusement.
"Not important."
Raymond hesitated, then a playful smile lit up his face.
"Well then, in that case, I’ll call you Chives."
The young man burst into laughter.
"Chives? Why not!"
Raymond was both amused by this individual and, at the same time, incredibly frustrated by the anomaly he represented.
"How do you always manage to be on time and in the right place when someone dies?" Chives asked.
Raymond smiled, delicately pulling his watch from his pocket and presenting it to Chives.
"It’s a creation of Time."
Chives’ eyes widened with wonder as he took the watch from Raymond’s hands with reverence.
"A creation of Time? Incredible, it even shows the current Age and your location!"
Chives studied the watch with fascination, turning the dial and examining it from every angle.
"It’s a marvel," he murmured.
Suddenly, a loud crack echoed behind Raymond, who turned immediately.
A small creature had appeared a few steps away. Curiously, it wore a tiny green pair of pants and a brown coat. A carved wooden mask hid its face, revealing only long, pointed ears covered in fur.
The creature waved its arms and made sounds in a foreign, incomprehensible language.
"A farfadet," Raymond exclaimed, fascinated, "it’s been years since... Wait, did it just say ‘it’s fine, I’ll create a diversion’?"
Raymond spun around, but Chives had already vanished.
And so had his watch.
All that remained where he had stood was a cloud of black smoke that slowly dissipated. Golden sparks lingered for a moment before fading.
Time was going to be furious.