Ten years. A whole decade has passed.
It's strange—when I look back, it doesn't feel that long. Time keeps moving, but I've felt like I'm standing still, just watching it slip away.
Ten years of building, changing, and reshaping the world.
It's nothing like it was before. And neither am I.
I stand under the waterfall, staring out at everything I've made. The water crashes down around me, roaring as it hits the rocks, but I don't feel it.
It doesn't even touch me, flowing to the side like it knows better. Once, I thought power like this would be enough. Back then, I wanted to prove something—to show everyone that I was in control.
But now? Now I feel… restless.
The air around me hums with energy, like the world is waiting for me to do something. My backyard—a place that used to be nothing but weeds and dirt—is alive.
The trees twist and stretch in impossible shapes, their leaves glowing faintly in shades of silver and gold. T
he sky is a deep, endless blue, and the birds aren't just flying—they're moving like dancers, swooping and spiraling in patterns too perfect to be random.
Even the ground is different.
Soft grass ripples like waves, and strange flowers bloom wherever I step.
It's beautiful. It's exactly what I imagined.
But it feels… empty.
I turn away from the waterfall and walk through the clearing. Squirrels dart through the trees, leaping and chattering, their eyes gleaming with a strange intelligence.
They used to be normal animals, but like everything else, they've changed. I made them that way. Just like I made all of this.
And yet, it's not enough.
I stop in the middle of the clearing, looking up at the glowing trees. My hands clench into fists. "It's all mine," I say, my voice quiet but firm.
"Every part of it. But what's the point if I'm the only one here?"
The air around me shifts, thick with power. I've felt this before—the pull to create, to shape something new. I close my eyes and let it happen.
The first shape forms in front of me, rising from the ground like mist. A tall, slender figure takes shape, their skin pale and shimmering like moonlight
. Long, sharp ears frame their delicate face, and their eyes glow faintly with a soft blue light. They're graceful, almost too perfect, like living art.
"Arden," I say, giving them a name. "You are the Sylran. Guardians of the forest, protectors of life."
The Sylran nod, their movements smooth and fluid.
Next, the ground trembles, and a sturdier figure rises. Their body is strong and compact, their skin rough like stone, with broad shoulders and powerful arms.
Their eyes are dark and steady, and a faint glow pulses from veins of molten light running through their skin.
"Dravik," I say. "You are the Karok. Builders and shapers of the earth. You will craft the mountains and tunnels."
The Karok bows, their gaze steady and respectful.
The air around me darkens, and another figure appears, this one wreathed in shadow. Their form is lean and sharp, their skin a deep crimson.
Their horns curve back like a crown, and their eyes burn with a golden fire.
"Vareen," I say. "You are the Nyrax. Seekers of power and knowledge. You will thrive in the dark places of the world."
The Nyrax tilts their head, a sharp grin spreading across their face.
Finally, light bursts from the sky, and a fourth figure emerges, radiant and fierce. Their skin glows with a soft golden light, and their wings shimmer like glass.
Their presence is warm, almost overwhelming, and their gaze is steady and commanding.
"Lyra," I say. "You are the Solari. Keepers of the skies and bringers of hope."
The Solari kneels, their wings folding gracefully behind them.
I step back, looking at the four of them. The Sylran, Karok, Nyrax, and Solari. Each one different, each one with a purpose.
For the first time in years, I feel a spark of something I can't quite name.
"Go," I tell them, my voice steady. "This world is yours now. Find your places. Build your homes. Make it your own."
They bow one by one, then turn and leave. The Sylran vanishes into the trees, their movements silent. The Karok stomps off toward the distant mountains, their footsteps heavy.
The Nyrax slips into the shadows, disappearing like smoke.
The Solari takes to the sky, their wings carrying them higher and higher until they're just a speck of light.
It's not about numbers or mere creations; it's about something real.
He stared into the endless expanse of his creation, his thoughts restless. This time, he wasn't shaping a forest, a race, or a land. This time, he was going to create someone—a person who would not only stand by his side but play a key role in his plan.
Someone who would challenge him, maybe even rival him, but ultimately serve a purpose only he could define.
He closed his eyes. The energy within him surged, swirling and crackling like a storm held in his chest. With a single thought, he conjured her.
She appeared before him, emerging from nothing as if the universe itself bent to his will.
Selvaris.
The shift in the air was immediate, like gravity realigning. She stood tall, her presence commanding, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders.
Her golden eyes locked onto his, sharp and unyielding, and her expression was unreadable—both calm and dangerous, like the stillness before a storm.
Kai took a moment to study her. She wasn't just beautiful; she was fierce, a perfect blend of elegance and strength.
She wasn't like his other creations. Selvaris was more.
She was power, ambition, and purpose wrapped into a single being.
"Selvaris," he said, breaking the silence. "Do you know why you're here?"
She tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes narrowing. "You made me," she said simply, her voice low and smooth. It carried a weight that matched her presence.
"That much I know. But the why? That's a question only you can answer."
Kai smirked. "You're perceptive. I created you because I need someone who can see things the way I do. Someone who isn't bound by the same rules that hold everyone else back."
She stepped closer, her gaze unwavering.
"And yet, I sense there's more to it than that. You didn't just create me as an ally, did you?"
Kai's eyes flicked to hers, a small spark of amusement in his expression. "No, I didn't. You're not just here to help. You're here to challenge me. To push me.
Maybe even to keep me in check if it comes to that."
Selvaris crossed her arms, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Bold of you to create someone who might stand against you."
"Bold," Kai repeated, his tone laced with a quiet intensity. "Or necessary. A creation without purpose is a waste of power."
She let the silence stretch, her gaze drifting over the world around them. "You've built something incredible here, Kai. But it's not just a sanctuary, is it? You're preparing for something."
Kai chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. "Preparing, yes. This isn't about keeping the world out. It's about shaping it into something better.
If that means building, I'll build. If it means tearing it apart, I'll do that too."
Selvaris turned back to him, her eyes narrowing. "You speak as if the world is your plaything. Like nothing in it matters but your vision."
"It doesn't," Kai said, his voice cold but steady. "The world follows rules I don't care for. Balance, harmony, destiny—all of it is meaningless.
I create what works. What makes sense. If it takes breaking everything down to create something new, so be it."
Selvaris studied him, her expression unreadable. Finally, she spoke, her voice softer now. "You're different, Kai. Most people create for others—for love, for legacy, for peace. But you? You create for yourself.
You've built all of this, shaped it in your image, not for anyone else, but because it's what you wanted."
Kai's gaze locked onto hers, his expression guarded. "And? What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing," she said after a pause. "I think that's why I'm here. To be a part of it. To see where this goes."
Kai raised an eyebrow, surprised at her words. "You want to help me?"
"I don't think it's about what I want," Selvaris said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You created me with a purpose. Maybe I'm here to challenge you.
Maybe I'm here to understand you. Or maybe…" She paused, her golden eyes gleaming. "I'm here because you know, deep down, you can't do this alone."
For a moment, Kai said nothing. The weight of her words hung in the air between them. Finally, he let out a quiet laugh, though his eyes remained cold.
"I don't need help, Selvaris," he said. "I'm already everything I need to be."
"Perhaps," she replied, her voice steady. "But even perfection can be refined."
Kai watched her, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. For the first time in years, he felt the faintest flicker of uncertainty.
Not in his power, but in what lay ahead.
"Then let's see where this goes," he said finally, his tone unreadable. "For now, you'll play your part."
Selvaris inclined her head, her expression calm yet knowing. "I always do."
But there's something about the way she looks at me, something about her presence, that makes me pause.
Maybe I've built this world for myself, but somewhere in all of this—between the power, the control, the isolation—maybe I've missed something.
Maybe there's more to it than just being in charge. Maybe, just maybe, Selvaris's right. Maybe we're not so different after all.