Lactic, the moonlight kisses the equally pale skin of the king who separates the heavens from the earth. The darkness of the starless night is illuminated not only by silver, but also by the yellow-green of fireflies. Red eyes stare at the emerald forest as they did so long ago, watching the reaper swear once again that one day he would take them.

  Unlike all the other times, my body remains intact. I bathe my feet in the pristine lake that acts as the center of my domain and illuminates my face with the reflection of the star. The Unknown is, for the most part, clean.

  A person should be inside it, but I didn't allow anyone to enter my dreams. Now that I can enter and leave the Unknown whenever I want, I don't need anyone else to invade it.

  I've lost count of how many beasts I've rid this world of. After Aldwyn's defeat, there is nothing left to do on this floor. Next to the lake, however, something new extends: a small wooden cabin that emulates my home in Dufae. With polished orange wood, now that I notice it, it is a little more beautiful.

  In the basement of this cabin, there is a staircase. You have to go down this staircase to get to the next floor of the Unknown. Only then will I be able to discover and conquer another, deeper part of my soul.

  With this mastery, I will conquer a little more of the power of Chaos.

  An itch deep in my heart. One that would grow every day I didn't go down to that basement. To do that, I need to unlock its door.

  I breathe in. The air is pure. A world made by arcane magic, made real by the divine. At first, I didn't like the idea of a place like the Unknown being a reflection of my soul. But when there are no demons trying to corrupt me, there is a strange peace that I cannot achieve in reality.

  Here, I am in control of something, and I can rest. I can kill and give life, destroy and build. Brutal and horrendous, but true: a place I can call my own, all mine, only mine.

  Everyone has a place like this within their own soul. Not all of them are manifest, of course. In fact, it's almost impossible for them to be. Hoffstein said that it's a very specific type of magic, and that the reason the Unknown “exists” is that it was built by the Demon King, and since we are the same person, it remained even after I lost my memory.

  But if I can affect it too, then how much of that world is mine, and how much is his?

  Did the Demon King also dream of being protected by the celestial veil? Did he also want to glimpse the glow of fireflies and hear the owls fly? Did he want to master his demons, or did he allow himself to be tortured by them until they recognized him as one of their own?

  Does that mean Hoffstein can also open his own Gates? What about the Demon King? Our Gates are the same, aren't they?

  Did he cry when he opened them? Did he hate them like I do? Or did he love them, as I strangely do too?

  I know that this world can interact in ways far more powerful than I myself can, perhaps he will help me with one thing or another, just as he prophesied my battle against the Abomination in the Black Forest.

  But that is not the reason I am here. The task that remains for me is to follow in the footsteps of the destroyed path that the Demon King left behind; to use his collapsed kingdom to rediscover and rebuild a new and better world.

  So, I look at the lake one last time in this dream and turn to face the reaper. Hundreds of eyes watch me, hungry for my flesh, but too afraid to confront me. Once restricted to a few meters bathed by the satellite, my domain now extends across this floor of the Unknown. However, by blocking the celestial light, I showed that I no longer needed to be protected by its mantle.

  Walking into the shadows where the moon does not touch, I leave the protected clearing as I have done hundreds of times before. Replacing it with the gold of a second sun, Aldwyn's destruction crowned me as the rightful king over the monsters.

  Before the arcane and the divine, the beasts bend their knees and are forced to say:

  “You are Sieghart.”

  The reaper, understanding his vain efforts, vanishes from the shadows that no longer frighten me. And so, the creatures disperse through the woods, screams become whispers, echoes and mirages.

  The black soil consumes the corpses of the hallucinations who dared to disobey and uses their nutrients to grow the non-existent world of nightmares turned dreams.

  A smile spreads across my face.

  I breathe in the fresh air of the forest, ignore the coldness of condemnations and subdue those who make them. I clench my fists and feel the Vitality rush through my wrists that would once have been butchered on the floor.

  So, I turn to the door of the hut and unlock it. Inside it, the air is still and musty. I go down the stairs one by one, wood creaks at every step. In the basement, a door. My hand rests on the doorknob for a second.

  Chaos is not conquered by mere technique or power. If this world is a reflection of my soul, naturally, each floor of the Unknown is a new mission, adventure, a new lesson I would have to learn to conquer it. Last time, I defined who I am.

  What awaits me on the other side now?

  What landscape will it be? How many monsters will they have? Will it be as difficult as the previous one? What else will I find out about myself?

  The questions do not stop, and in response to them, I, too, have already stopped paying attention. All I care about is what moves me. The mission that makes me go forward. The demons have said my name, but the reason it evokes authority is the crown that has been placed on my head.

  Who am I that you should obey me?

  “I am the one who divides the heavens from the Earth.”

  I open the door.

  A new piece of my soul is revealed.

  A field.

  A black sun casts its shadow over the earth, but still illuminates the perfect, green, pasture fields of the plain. Adorned by flowers, orchids and roses stretch across the fertile land. Moist, pure winds coming from the dark, starless skies.

  Staring at me, Aldwyn's dead carcass prostrates itself to the ground, but refuses to let its face touch it. Defeated, but still resilient. The smell of burning flesh has not yet left my nostrils.

  It bothers me that I haven't gotten over it yet. It bothers me that he's still here. Still, this mental image can do nothing against me.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “I noticed that you are trying to take the moonlight from me.”I say, then I step on the field and lock the door behind me.

  “Give it back. This is an order from your king.”

  ***

  The dream continues until, after one or another horde, I die. Suddenly, my eyes open. It still hurts, of course, but something is different. I don't mind.

  The wooden room is cold, but covered by a thick blanket, I am warm. The darkness proves to me that I'm in the middle of the night. After finishing my chores in the unknown, I usually wake up in the daytime. Perhaps the dream was cut short for a couple of hours. It should not be too far from sunrise. No. I think when I go back to sleep, I'll go back to him.

  I can choose when to go, but I can't refuse when I'm called.

  I scratch my eyes and adjust the lighting. Wet. My shirt is soaked. I was crying in my sleep again. It's been happening more and more, even though I don't feel any sadness.

  Whatever. It's just water.

  Watching me from the edge of my bed, a slender white creature stares at me. I casually point my hand at her and force her to be undone.

  I open my hand and close it. I nod to myself and curl up in bed. I close my eyes, and the unknown opens again.

  ***

  The warmth of the morning comforts my skin. I get out of bed with a heavy chest and numb body, but recover in a few minutes. I pick up the prayer beads above the bedside desk and recite the simple prayers out loud. Then I do push-ups and exercises inside the room. When my body adapts to reality, I dress in black clothes and cover myself with a white robe. So, I take my staff and leave the house.

  The cabin is bigger than my old house, but it's not much. There is no point in doing something big if we are not going to stand still for a long time.

  In front of me, the grass is green and abundant. Luxurious, every inch of nature seems to glow, radiating emotion and primal instinct. The skies show multicolored clouds, sometimes made of cotton.

  Once, one of the stars fell on my head, and it was just a stone shining, and on another, I saw the sun laughing in my face. I know he does it behind my back. Someday, I'm going to pull one of your bolts, bring it close, and stone the bastard in the head.

  I laugh to myself. The fairy world is weird, but I can't bend reality like that. I think. I am waiting. I'm pretty sure I'm freaking out, and while I like the weirdness, I'm weird enough already.

  I need to get out of this place. No, I need a vacation. Forever, preferably. Fed up with my revolt against an almost imaginary world, I make the worst decision of my life (so far): to go to Morgana.

  The flowers are fragrant like perfumes and large like trees. The trees, in turn, reach up to the heavens, their roots extending for hundreds of meters. From the side of the house, a crystal clear lake stretches. Part of me feels like burning it all down until the only thing glowing is Ash. The other party is dumb for refusing.

  I collect some apples and sit under a giant mushroom to protect myself from the sun, by the lake. From its center, butterfly wings open, colored like a rainbow.

  Then they solidify into the dark blue and smooth thin ice. Delicate and indestructible, it is only after her glimpse appears that Morgana's body ascends from the abyssal depths of the lake.

  Steam and blue smoke take shape and solidify into something that is not meat, but acts as if it were. No more golden hair or black dresses—their structure is entirely composed of matte, translucent, ghostly blue.

  She walks over the Lake, her steps causing ripples through the air like the first time we met. She bends down and hugs her knees, then stares at me with a friendly smile.

  “Did you miss me?”

  We spoke yesterday. Yes.

  “No.”

  “Sure.” She says, poking a cheek.

  His touch is cold and soft. While cozy, it sends a shock down my spine. Her face keeps beautiful expressions, but she always seemed strangely distant to me.

  Something tells me that despite being weakened, Morgana could freeze me to death right now if she wanted to. For some reason, it makes me like her even more. I'm a lost cause, aren't I?

  “You are different.” I say. “Every day more-”

  “Pretty?”

  “Strange.”

  “It's to match you.”

  “Is it really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does that come as a joke in the part of not lying?”

  “I don't have to joke if I'm telling the truth. You're weird, I can be too. I don't have to hide anything like that with you. At least, that's one of the reasons.”

  “So you can circumvent the rule that way too, right? Good to know.”

  “I can do a lot of things with-”

  “It doesn't start.”

  She grimaces. “Boring.”

  “Aren't you afraid to make these jokes? What if the lion uses some weird Vice to make me corrupt?”

  “Unlikely.” She says.

  “You would be the main target of this.”

  “Obviously. The heart is very dangerous, but yours is made of stone. If you're in love with me-”

  “I never said that.”

  “It's a hypothetical, sweetie, you don't have to be nervous and give yourself away like that.”

  “… Go ahead.”

  She spits out a laugh. “If he's in love with me, it's because we've known each other a long time, in a way. There is a connection—literal—in our case. But it doesn't matter. Since you've resisted far more dangerous temptations, I doubt that a mere teenage crush is enough to make you fall. It's not worth it.”

  “… I'm glad I'm not.” I say. And even if I was, it's just a random crush. Not that I was going to tell you that. “It's strangely uncomfortable that you know so much about manipulating others.”

  “I know what I'm doing.”

  “Getting into my 'heart of stone' was one of your tactics, I imagine?”

  She tilts her head. “Having more than one reason for doing something does not imply a lack of truth. If I killed you for love, I would still love him, and I would still kill you. Both realities are truths.”

  I spit out a laugh. “Romantic example.”

  “I like romance. What about you?”

  I will avoid this topic with her.

  “Is there a reason why it's in this new form?” I say.

  “You have to be better with words if you want to change the subject. If it's like this out of the blue-”

  “Why are you blue? The real reason.”

  She sighs and shrugs. “What you saw before was my body in the flesh. That's what I look like if I wasn't.”

  “So this is what you look like?”

  “Fairies don't have a main form, but that would be the original, yes.”

  “I get it.”

  “That's all? Won't you compliment me?”

  “Do I need it?”

  “I like it. Other people too. Use these conversations to learn how to talk to them.”

  “… It's ethereal. Nice. It's marvelous.”

  None of this comes close to what I want to say to her. There is no form of it that practically doesn't mesmerize me, but I'd rather be thrown off a cliff than admit it out loud. Instead,

  “I liked it.” I say. “Really.”

  She breaks into a sincere smile. “Thank you.” Then increase it to a cocky one. “You're not bad, either. The chaos was too much for your body and it was killing you. It was only by starting to eat right and control yourself that you improved.”

  Morgana approaches and pulls at my cheeks. “Look at you, what a cutie, it makes you want to rip your face off and pin it to a wall.”

  “… Don't do that.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. How are the dreams?”

  I shrug. “Normal. How do you feel about being at the fairy world?”

  “It's like being in your backyard, but not indoors. I don't think I have one anymore.”

  “You can live in mine.”

  “A symbolic act of companionship. Cute. But incomplete.”

  “Incomplete?”

  “You didn't let me enter the unknown with you, did you? How can you open your home but not your heart?”

  “First, heart — don't say these things out loud. Second, you come and go from my house when you want, you don't have to go into the unknown for that. Third, What Would you do there? Flying through the clearing?”

  “You act as if your reasons are the real reason.”

  “…”

  “Don't worry.” She means business. “Fair enough.”

  I nod.

  “Are you ready for today?”

  “No.” I breathe in. “But that's never stopped me before.”

  Morgana smiles. “Come on.”

  I nod.

  Morgana's body falls apart, blue vapor returns to the environment and disperses. I get up and turn to the side, towards the north, and walk along it.

  A week has passed since Aldwyn's defeat. I used those days to recover and walk toward a random direction Hoffstein recommended. He said he would explain everything to me later, and asked me to trust him. Apparently, we can change the course of his plan if we present something better than the news he will give.

  After I walked, I crossed the world of men and went to that of fairies. The strange and dangerous dimension was the target of Hoffstein's criticism, but he agreed to stay rather than try to find a way out. Time at the fairy world passes differently, and he seems to want to take advantage of it somehow.

  However, I will hardly have time to answer them. A hut is made inside the hole of one of the giant trees. On his knees, Hoffstein clasps his hands and whispers inaudible words with his back to me. Bathed in the sunlight, he recites a few verses he had recorded until they are over, then gets up and quietly leaves the hut.

  For a second, Hoffstein stares at me with profound serenity. Merely looking at his figure made me calm down, as if somehow he said I don't need to fear him. In some even more impressive way, I believe him.

  So, the Hero opens a smile from ear to ear. “Ah, just in time! Good Morning, Sieghart!” He says with open arms, then jumps tens of meters to the ground. As the ground shakes, the Hero's legs flex, but do not give way, and he rises from a cloud of dust as if nothing had happened.

  “Today will be a great day!”