The Author (1)
The starry night was a sight to behold. The moon cast its brilliant glow, painting the forest below with its ethereal light. At the edge of a vast lake, shrouded in a misty haze, two figures sat on wooden logs beside a roaring campfire. Lush greenery, tall trees, and bushes surrounded the area, creating a natural oasis.
The scent of fresh leaves, earth, and water mingled together, creating a captivating aroma that filled the air. Luke sat motionless on one of the logs, his gaze fixed on the crackling flames. He wore his usual attire, a black shirt with matching pants and a long overcoat.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked, tossing twigs into the fire, which flickered and danced in the cool night breeze.
Sitting across from him was a hooded figure, cloaked in black from head to toe, while his face was a... question mark?
It was as if his face had been completely blurred by the gods themselves, leaving only a huge, black question mark, '?' over it. It was unlike any other creature existing in the entirety of the cosmos.
"It is necessary," the stranger replied in a hushed tone, lowering his gaze to the ground.
"But they deserve to know the truth," Luke countered, meeting the stranger's gaze.
The hooded figure hesitated, "I don't think I'm doing his story justice. Is it even possible for someone like me to-"
"It is," Luke interrupted, "You are the greatest storyteller to ever exist... You will do his story justice. I know it. Even though thousands of years have passed for us, merely a few days have gone for the ones who'll bare witness to your story."
"I'm not a storyteller," the stranger replied, his voice barely above a whisper, "at least not anymore."
He rose to his feet and walked towards the edge of the lake, submerging his feet in the chilly water. Time seemed to slow, as if waiting for the stranger's decision.
"They need to know the truth," he murmured, emptily gazing out into the fog, his voice carrying a burden unbearable by mere mortals.
"Indeed, they do," Luke affirmed, appearing behind him with a worn, ancient-looking book and a pristine white feather.
The stranger took the book and feather and began walking towards the mist, opening the book and brushing the feather against the pages, leaving behind a trail of black ink. As if the lake and the fog were waiting for this exact moment, the gray mist engulfed the man.
As he disappeared deep into the mist, he started a new chapter in the life of the most significant player to challenge the Tower.
-----End-----
Firstly, I heartily apologise for disappearing for so long.
Thank you very very much for reading my work so far! I hope you enjoy our experience in my little world further...
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Thank you all very much for your support up till now!