It is said that there are individuals who cultivate the barren lands beyond the Stronghand through their mastery of magic. These people, known as the Finnegans, live in unparalleled harmony with their surroundings. However, their peaceful existence...
We lived in harmony—fragments of memories flash in my mind. They were bright, beautiful, and abundant, filled with the laughter of children chasing one another through emerald fields.
They called us cultivators, shaping the barren lands beyond the Stronghand with our mastery of magic. We, the Finnegans, existed in unparalleled harmony with all living creatures. But that peace was shattered when a long-foreseen war erupted from the city, spilling our blood across the emerald fields, one by one.
Desperate to escape the brutal grasp of the superior mutants, I fled to the farthest reaches of the underground. I became a seed, lying dormant, waiting for the power I needed to rise once more to the surface. From Neptune...
From Neptune...
"Icyln..."
Yes, that's my name. I blinked into the darkness—it was pitch black.
"Icyln North!"
My eyes fluttered open again, this time into reality. Ansel's voice cut through the haze. I must have overslept again.
I shifted in bed, my spine cracking as I sat up, stretching my arms toward the ceiling with a long yawn. The room felt off, like everything was moving faster around me. Why is everyone in such a hurry?
Through the fog of sleep, I spotted Ansel standing by the door, dressed in his formal outfit. His presence snapped me back to the moment.
I stared at him, blinking twice. "Was it today?"
Ansel turned, his eyes scanning my disheveled bedhead, my white hair scattered like the lilies in Castley-Valley. His expression softened.
"Yes, it's today," he said, his voice gentler than usual. And then it hit me, a sinking realization as my heart raced. "If you don't bid your brother a proper goodbye," he added quietly, "you'll regret it."
The weight of his words sank in. My breath caught, and tears welled up as I scrambled out of bed. Before I could speak, I rushed into his arms, my sobs breaking free as I buried my face against his chest.
Ansel held me, rubbing slow circles on my back. His grip was steady, like he was trying to absorb my sadness, even though it wasn't enough.
That was three years ago. I still remember the warmth of his embrace. Since that day, even in the height of summer, he has never come back.
WELCOME TO ASA OF NEPTUNE!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
