In a small, humble home in the heart of a bustling city on Earth, two brothers, Kael and Arthur, lived. Their lives were simple, their means modest, but their dreams stretched far beyond the confines of their reality.
Arthur, the younger brother, was a dreamer. His mind was a treasure trove of fantastical ideas and grand adventures.
"Imagine," he would often say, his eyes sparkling with excitement, "a hero who could control all the elements. Fire, water, earth, air... all at his command."
Kael, the elder brother, was more grounded. He was the scribe, the one who brought their shared dreams to life on paper. "That would make him almost invincible," he would often retort, a playful smile on his face.
But Arthur was undeterred.
"No, Kael. He would use his powers for good, to protect the weak, to uphold justice," he would argue, his voice filled with conviction. They spent countless hours crafting their story, their shared dream becoming a beacon of hope in their simple lives.
"Hmm,How about we made him have a power that everyone never have in that world?"
"Ooohh, That is a very interesting idea,Kael.The. Let's made it like this..."
Kael and Arthur spent countless hours crafting their shared dream - a story of magic, nobility, struggles, and triumphs. Their laughter and excitement echoed through their home, a testament to their unbreakable bond.
"Yosh, then it's already decided," Arthur said one day, his eyes shining with excitement.
"Let's write a story about our heroes together, Big Bro."
Kael chuckled, ruffling his brother's hair affectionately.
"Heh, whatever you want, Little Bro. You're the dreamer, after all."
Arthur beamed, his eyes shining with excitement.
"Yes! And you're the scribe, the one who brings our dreams to life. Together, we'll create a story that will be remembered for generations."
That was How The Dawn of Eternity created from the first place.
At first they made the novel with passion.
They write, revised and adding a new idea.
They even confront against each other when their idea were contradictory.
However,they still write the novel with passion.
For them,The Dawn of Eternity is not just a mere novel,but a sign of their bond as siblings.
As a family.
But then, tragedy struck made everything change.
Arthur fell ill, his life slowly ebbing away. His vibrant eyes dimmed, his laughter became less frequent, and his body became frail. Despite the grim prognosis, he remained hopeful.
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"Kael," he whispered one cold night,
"Promise me you'll finish our story. Our hero needs to live, to fight, to triumph."
"What are you saying, Art?" Kael had asked, shocked can be seen on his face.He grips Arthur's hand gently as he said.
"We are the ones who created the novel together, so we will finish it together too."
".....You know,that we can't.Just promise me,Big Bro."
Kael feels like his heart hit by a truck,he know it,he know that Arthur can't make it,but he also hope that he can.He hope that his illness will magically dissapear one day so that they can continue the story together.
So that they can be a cheerful and happy siblings,just like before.
However,Kael know that it was just a hopeless dream.Slowly he wake up from the dream and look at Arthur with a forced smile.
".....I promise, Arthur," Kael had replied, his voice choked with emotion.
Arthur's eyes had shone with gratitude and hope.
"Thank you, Kael," he had whispered, his voice barely audible.
"I know you'll do it."
And so, Kael found himself alone, left with a promise to keep and a story to finish.
He clung to that promise, even as his own health began to decline. He was diagnosed with an unknown, a silent predator that slowly drained his life away just like what happened to his younger brother.An illness that doesn't have a cure.
'Sh*t,seems like both of us have the same fate,Art.'
In the final days of his life, Kael found himself confined to his small, humble home.He decided to just stay at his home until he reach his last breath.
His body, once strong and healthy, was now frail and weak. His illness had worsened, leaving him a mere shadow of his former self. Yet, his spirit remained unbroken.
Despite the pain and the weakness, Kael continued to write. His hands, though trembling, held onto the quill with a deathly grip. His eyes, though dimmed by pain, still held a spark of determination. He was a man on a mission, a man with a promise to keep.
One day, as he sat hunched over his desk, a fit of coughing overtook him. He coughed and coughed until his throat felt raw, each cough bringing up a fresh wave of pain. He could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth, a grim reminder of his deteriorating health.
But Kael didn't stop. He couldn't stop. He had a promise to keep, a story to finish. With every ounce of strength he had left, he continued to write. His hand moved slowly, each word taking longer to write than the last. His vision blurred, his body screamed in protest, but he didn't stop.
But eventually, his strength gave out. His hand fell limp, the quill slipping from his grasp. His body slumped over the desk, his breaths coming out in short, ragged gasps.
His story, their story, was left unfinished, a dream unfulfilled. But as his eyes closed for the last time, Kael held onto one final hope - that someday, someone would finish their story.
______________
Varron's eyes snapped open, a soft gasp escaping his lips. His heart pounded in his chest as if he had just run a marathon, and his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Slowly, he sat up, his hand reaching up to touch his head, his fingers ruffling his hair in a futile attempt to dispel the remnants of his dream.
"This is the first time," he muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper.
His words echoed in the quiet room, a stark reminder of the dream, of the memories that had come flooding back.
He gritted his teeth, a wave of frustration washing over him. He remembered the promise he had made, the promise he had failed to keep. He remembered the feeling of the quill slipping from his hand, the unfinished story, the unfulfilled promise. He remembered how pathetic he had felt, how helpless.
'How can I forget about this on the first time I got here?'
A promise,and probably the reason why he got here.Just like what he thought before,but right now he got a very big hint.
As he sat up, his thoughts turned to Kael, the man he had been before. He wondered why he didn't remember his previous time before he got in this novel world as Varron. It was like a sudden amnesia, a gap in his memory that he couldn't explain.
"No, it's more like I was not Kael in that moment," he mused to himself, his brow furrowed in thought.
"The fact that I accepted becoming Varron without feeling anything is already weird enough."
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He knew he was Kael, despite the strange disconnection he had felt in his dream. The promise he had made to Arthur, to finish their story, was proof of that.
"Am I really Kael?" he asked himself, the doubt creeping into his mind.
But then he remembered the promise, the unbreakable bond he had shared with his brother.
"No!" he exclaimed, his voice firm.
"I am Kael. The promise I made is not fake. The feeling I felt before is not fake."
I am Ka--
Varron Ainsworth.
Kael