Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time

Rinoa sat on the threshold of the world, trapped in a state of limbo where sleep and consciousness overlapped, as time seemed to stand still. She was caught in a limbo where now and then, reality and illusion intertwined in the darkness of the night. The sound of her heartbeat pulsed softly, flowing with the morning dew that enveloped the earth hesitant to rise, as if inviting Rinoa to feel the impact of an unavoidable reality. However, among the thousands of indistinguishable steps, one step in the shadows of the Arkanum base made her chest feel heavy, like an unbearable burden.

Each heartbeat seemed to ignite, summoning a deep pain; her breath came in gasps, her neck felt stiff, as if something were binding her to memories she wished to forget. Throughout this time, the cracks in Rinoa's heart opened new, unexpected memories, bringing back shadows that had long been hidden, hinting at the profound influence of the past on her current state of mind.

And in that charged stillness, as she closed her eyes, the world around her began to fade. Shadows blurred, while colors and sounds grew muted, resonating in a mystical harmony of silence. She felt the temperature drop, her breath trembling as she saw—not a dream, but a reflection urging her to gaze into the depths of her soul, like waves perpetually crashing against cliffs, awakening a profound sense of nostalgia and longing for a past that may have been lost forever.

"Someone called her name. But it wasn't 'Rinoa.'

'Someone embraced her, saved her, shattered her, and loved her... in the wrong order.'

And at the end of that dream, she saw... herself—holding a sparkling black blade of light, her tears flooding the night as she kissed the forehead of a man sealed within a circle of magic, a symbol of sorrow and sacrifice bound by their fates. In that moment, pain intertwined with hope resurfaced, her body trembled, and her soul shivered as if trapped between the desire to move away and the need to remain close. The cracks in Rinoa's heart opened new memories, bringing forth shadows of the past that were difficult to erase, creating a wave of feelings that resonated within her spirit, as though emphasizing that separation did not always equate to complete loss.

As awareness began to break through the boundaries of the dream, Rinoa felt a profound change enveloping her. It was as if one world vanished, replacing all hope with a bitter reality. The darkness that shrouded her slowly faded, allowing painful and contradictory light to penetrate her soul, pushing her back into the harshness of reality.

The cracks in Rinoa's heart unearthed buried memories, seemingly hidden in darkness. Her entire body trembled; every pulse seemed to ignite invisible wounds beneath her skin. Yet, a deeper pain tore through her soul, marking a profound emotional impact. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and she felt a weight in her chest, as though the world was crushing her with all its pain and loss. This stirred an overwhelming sense of panic and longing within her.

Someone watched her from a distance, a vague figure blending with the falling rain. The sound of the rain thundered, creating a rhythm that shook her heart and added to the isolation amidst the whispers of the water.

Amidst the downpour that touched her skin, someone stood still among the shadows of the rain, leaving Rinoa feeling empty and estranged in an increasingly blurred world.

Fitran.

The cracks in Rinoa's heart revealed new memories. As she gazed at the familiar face, a flicker of recollection began to settle in her mind—she started to remember something that was meant to stay buried. A fiery longing met a deep-seated fear, creating an unavoidable storm of emotions within her; this feeling further strengthened the bond between them, which had been shattered by time and fate.

Rinoa awoke with a heavy breath. The damp walls of her hiding place appeared ordinary—too ordinary—but her heart raced as if she had just fought in an invisible war, signaling that although her body had returned to reality, the emotional vibrations of the dream still lingered within her soul.

Her hand rose to touch her temples, struggling to clear her mind from the fog of fatigue that clung like a thick blanket, enveloping her in confusion. Every movement felt laborious, as if her fingers were ensnared in darkness, fighting to find light amidst the chaos swirling in her thoughts.

"Where am I?"

Rinoa shifted her gaze, her eyes scanning the cold, sterile room, and she soon realized she was in a hospital—a place that felt familiar, yet foreign and terrifying like a never-ending nightmare.

She closed her eyes, attempting to reel in the fragmented memories—shattered reflections emitting soft cries, a faint voice calling her name in profound longing, and… a smile. That smile seemed as if it had been seen a thousand times, yet still held a mystery that made her reluctant to touch the memory with certainty.

She withdrew the heavy blanket, as if there was an emotional weight hidden beneath it, and slowly stood up. Her steps were unsteady, her body still shrouded in weakness from the shattered dream magic that had drained her energy. Yet, her mind felt sharp, as if a fresh wound had been cut that could never be stitched back together. The awareness of vulnerability and strength merged within her, pulsating and creating a tumultuous feeling she could not ignore.

At the corner of the small mirror in the room, there was a thin crack that hadn't been there the night before.

Rinoa didn't know why, but she opened the window and gazed into the distance.

The sky remained gray, a remnant of the magical battle that had swept through this city, casting a somber atmosphere that deepened her sorrow. However, amidst the darkness, there was a faint light spreading across the horizon, seemingly offering new hope.

And within her heart, one name echoed… Fitran.

Not with certainty.

Not with intact memories.

But with a faint pain that was beyond explanation.

Rinoa sat alone in the middle of the circle of spells she had drawn with her own blood—not because she lacked ink, but because memories, she said, must be paid for with a life. Even if it was just a small portion, each drop flowed with the weight of an indelible past, and each stroke created a boundary between the real world and the painful memories she tread upon.

Her hair hung in messy strands, dust clinging to the unkempt locks, while her body trembled from the unbearable tension. Yet, her gaze radiated a strong determination, clinging to hope amidst despair. In front of her, the cracked mirror from her room was positioned as a focus for the summoning, revealing a distorted reflection and a face that felt foreign, as if creating a distance between herself and her true identity. Another shadow swiftly passed—a man in thick fog, a mysterious figure that added layers of complexity to her predicament, stirring her curiosity to uncover the secrets hidden behind that mist.

"Tell me his name," she urged, as if each word was a key to unlock the fragments of her lost memories.

"He won't return unless you remember," the gentle voice cracked, as if burdened with unspoken emotional weight.

Her own voice echoed from outside her body. Perhaps it was a remnant of a spell. Perhaps it was one of the fragments speaking.

And Rinoa—her blood dripping and her voice almost breaking—uttered that name:

"Fitran."

The cracks in the mirror instantly ignited with a bluish-purple light, creating a magical atmosphere filled with tension. The room shook, and from within her— from the depths of her soul—an explosion of pain and love erupted simultaneously, creating a resonance that echoed in her spirit about what had been lost and what might still be found.

In an instant, Rinoa fainted, her body slumping over the glowing circle of magic.

After being trapped in a deep slumber for what felt like an eternity, Rinoa finally opened her eyes, now shining brightly like refreshing morning dew. In her confusion, she felt a throbbing in her head, likely a result of her actions—drawing on blood for a spell that was nearly unimaginable. However, all those memories seemed buried in uncertainty. The atmosphere in the hospital turned frantic as doctors and nurses rushed around, filling the room that seemed to have come alive, creating a great chaos, as if the very mirror of reality was beginning to crack before them.

"Are you okay?" a nurse asked with a worried tone while checking Rinoa's condition.

"I'm fine," Rinoa replied, her voice still breathless and half-conscious, startled by the clamor surrounding her.

Rinoa realized that this room was different from the one in her previous dreams. Although her body was still weak, she felt the nurse's gentle hands moving her to a new room. Days passed, and Rinoa finally recovered, leaving the hospital with mixed feelings. However, in the silence, her gaze was drawn to a room that radiated a strong aura of magic, as if calling her name in a faint whisper. In her unconscious state, Rinoa was unaware that this room was where she had once drawn a cursed magic circle, inviting the darkness that may now be waiting for her presence. She felt an odd premonition within her.

Fitran had acquired the place at a very high price, an investment that carried the scent of mystery and darkness. He promised to keep the secrets of all the staff working there, tightly sealing their lips as if their tongues were bound by fear. Additionally, he committed to performing an elaborate exorcism ritual, hoping to drive out anything that might haunt the place, as an effort to dispel the dark shadows that had long taken root.

In that room, mystical sounds echoed.

Empty… but not completely.

There is something there.

Someone.

"Who… are you?"

"I don't know who you are...

But I know I've wept for your loss."

The voice echoed relentlessly like a haunting whisper that seeped into Fitran's soul, creating an unbearable wave of anxiety. In his confusion and fear, he felt the urge to use the Echo-Eater, yet he was trapped in a painful limitation. With burning determination, he resolved to destroy the room, hoping that by tearing down the walls that confined his fear, he could finally end the terror that incessantly haunted his mind.