Time and change were like refined grains of golden sand on a beach, the future that slipped from his grasp the moment he didn't hold on tightly enough.
Jule won more awards than he could remember, received more praise than he could count. The pride that grew from his success nearly reached the skies and could've been raised higher if all chances to fulfill it hadn't been lost. The portraits and sketches he drew that he planned to frame laid messily in the back of a dusty storage in a small, narrow apartment. The villa he grew up in on mortgage, his family detached and broken.
Sometimes, he dreamt of turning back time, and then reality hits and Jule realized that all those thoughts were but hopeless hope. Other times, he looked into the past and noticed all the mistakes that should have been prevented at all costs.
Most of the time, Jule wished that he was born a little earlier and knew this would have happened because then he could have stopped it.
A long time ago, before he turned 13, he boasted about his talents, confident in his abilities to become successful. Now, his 15-year-old self could only complain in silence because what could he do now?
He doubted everyone; he doubted everything; he doubted himself. The future Jule saw and attempted to write for himself was merely a facade that could never happen.
Though all hope and dreams were lost, Jule's pockets had more than enough money for a train to the nearest countryside area.
The railway was probably as old as his grandparents, originally built by colonists a century ago with the intent of extending it further into a neighboring nation. It was abandoned after the war, before being reconstructed a decade after. Though not a central tourist location, the train was popular amongst locals who didn't care whether it was dangerous or not.
He leaned against the door of the train, watching as it passed, surroundings changing.
[Ding!]
[Ding!]
He ignored it.
[Ding!] [Ding!] [Ding!]
Jule irritatingly reached inside his pockets and squinted at the bright screen. It was a notification from his web novel reading app. His face lit up, his gloom slowly dissipating.
[Clash of an Independent Sword has a new update!]
"Oh? There's a new update on Clash of an Independent Sword? Well, at least I still have you in the world with me." Jule sighed aloud to himself. If all hope and ambitions were lost, happiness wasn't because he still had a novel to continue reading.
Clash of an Independent Sword was an uncompleted web novel written and published on a famous web novel site by an anonymous author. In recent years, the series has become extremely popular, attracting millions of fans worldwide. In short; Clash of an Independent Sword was the perfect masterpiece for someone with a bland life with no romance and joy.
To Jule, the ending of this uncompleted novel was one of his motivations to continue reading. The day the novel ended would be the day he'd give up on life and finally surrender to helplessness. Clash of an Independent Sword deserved to have its title engraved on every stone and pebble, to be present on billboards worldwide and earn so much glory the greatest of novels and authors would pale in comparison.
He opened the app and clicked on the novel icon, scrolling down to where the next chapter should be, when he saw a small sign that said 'notice.'
[Clash of an Independent Sword by Elysium]
A message popped up on his screen:
[Dear loyal readers, I apologize for not updating for the past few weeks. These two years of writing and updating have been an adventure for me.]
Is the author planning to celebrate their second anniversary?…
[Though Clash of an Independent Sword is almost ending, I have decided not to continue updating the novel for various reasons. I know my answer is vague, but an author's life is not easy, so I hope you all can sympathize with me.]
[The novel shouldn't continue, it should already end]
[I can't continue doing this, not until the problem has been solved]
"Wait, huh?"
[If this isn't obvious enough, then I'll say it properly. The novel has been canceled.]
"The novel, the novel, what?" Jule wheezed. His phone nearly fell out of his hands, and he hurriedly went to the top of the page to reread the message.
[If this isn't obvious enough, then I'll say it properly. The novel has been canceled.]
Elysium was no longer updating.
The novel had been canceled.
The series would not be continued.
"I guess the gods just hate me…if they exist." Jule wailed loudly because he was the only one on the train. Everything was unfair and life was unjust. The world revolved and worked around disparities. Why were some people born in harsh poverty, while others lived in useless luxury? Why did some have their future taken away from them, while others became successful without trying? Life was not fair and would never be.
"My dream and my house, my favorite novel is canceled..what's next, my life? Why don't you just kill me already?!" He yelled because again, there was really no one to mind how loud he was. On this empty train, the only company he had was himself and his phone.
Suddenly, the walls split apart behind him, the sound of the rumbling train louder than before. Then there was nothing to lean against and Jule fell with a thud onto the rocky rail track. His heart rabbeted inside his chest, almost as if was threatening to jump out of his rib cage.
Jule tried to remind himself that he was fine, that he wouldn't die without beating up his father's mistress one last time. He would die getting shot by one of her bodyguards or protecting his family from the wrath of the government, not by falling and hitting his head on the ground.
He never wanted to die, but what was there to live for?
Jule had once screenshotted a quote in Clash of An Independent Sword, only to never look at or remember it again. But now, as his mind slowly became hazy, he saw it in front of him, a message slowly emerging from the back of his mind.
"Only when all things are lost do you realize the importance of cherishing what is still there."
What was there to live for? Nothing.
Who was left to cherish? No one.
There was no comfort and safe house, no familiar warmth to hold him close and tell him that all this was a dream and that when he woke up, his parents would be back together, his siblings alive and well.
Jule smiled at the thought of a next life, laughing at his mind and heart for hoping. But he wanted to indulge in this fantasy one last time before everything would be gone.
"Only when things are regained can you find the will to continue living." A voice that undoubtedly wasn't his spoke but he paid no attention to it.
"Clash of an Independent Sword," Jule muttered, mocking his hopes, "I sure hope you continue."