The Boy Without Words

Kirim City pulsed around him—endless noise, color, and motion. Neon lights flickered against chrome buildings, and the scent of grilled spicebread and smog drifted through the humid air. But Jimmy was only a shadow passing through.

Perhaps it was the way he looked—wrapped in a tattered black coat and pants too loose for his frame, a crooked cane in one hand, and a cloth blindfold concealing his eyes. To the crowd, he looked like a street performer, maybe even a lost child dressed as a clown. Whispers passed behind him, curious but dismissive.

He didn't mind. Being unseen was safer.

Luna, too large now to walk unnoticed, rested quietly within his Mind's Garden. 

The plaza ahead opened like a stage beneath a sleeping sky. No one noticed Jimmy slipping toward its edge, where worn stone tiles marked an old sun dial embedded in the ground. Here, the city's rush seemed to pause. A strange rhythm stirred—soft, like a heartbeat buried under centuries of stone.

Jimmy slowed, each step syncing with it.

Then the air shifted.

A sudden hush blanketed the plaza, like time itself took a breath. Golden light spilled downward, not from the sun above, but from a glowing shape hovering just above the dial's centre.

A Whisp appeared—elegant and strange.

A glow poured gently from the dial's centre. Suspended above it was a Whisp unlike any he'd seen before—elegant, regal, and dreamlike. Its body was shaped like an hourglass, haloed in golden light. Arcs of solar rings rotated around it slowly, like planets obeying ancient gravity. Its face bore no features, only a single ever-turning clock dial etched with runes.

Jimmy's breath caught.

He opened his Data Sphere instinctively:

☼ — Unknown Designation

Origin: ???

Whisp Type: LIGHT (Linked: CHRONO-Class)

Known Titles: Time Caller, Fate Weaver, The Forgotten Whisperer.

A voice, soft and resonant, filled the air and his thoughts.

"A blind boy? So, A blind boy can find the corner where time hides. Curious… very curious."

Jimmy sat still, silent.

"You... don't belong to this city. Yet you walk like you've stepped out of its oldest shadow like An unknown fool."

The Whisp floated closer, rings shifting like clockwork. 

"You carry a... hmm. Hidden. Faint. But not erased. Ah.... so you met him, that is why The scent of the Black Feather trails behind you."

"Ah… so fate begins to twist."

Jimmy's fingers twitched. The Black Feather. He didn't know how he knew the name. A dream? A whisper in the orphanage cellar? A voice from somewhere deeper?

He reached into his coat and revealed the glowing interface of his Codex—still displaying Luna's stats.

The Whisp hovered silently for a moment.

"She is dancing and you also. When she dances, the world stares, but not you. But remember—every bright rise casts a long shadow."

"Are you ready to meet yours, boy-without-voice? A fool without sight."

Jimmy signed carefully, each movement steady without knowing:

"I don't know. But I will keep walking."

The Whisp watched him.

Then it turned—once—and a wave of golden shimmer rippled out across the dial, unnoticed by anyone else. For a breathless instant, the whole plaza paused. Even time itself seemed to bow.

"Then walk carefully. Time may guide you."

With a flick of light, the Whisp vanished—like dust being unwound from a forgotten clock.

Jimmy stood alone.

The rhythm faded. The noise returned. The plaza stirred.

He exhaled.

Right there on the edge of the dial.

Minutes passed. Or hours. He couldn't tell.

He opened his coat, let the night wind brush his face, and released all his Whisps one by one into the quiet. He didn't know why. Maybe to feel them. Maybe to remember he wasn't alone.

The city moved around him like a film stuck on loop. But he stayed still.

Time passed.

It could have been five minutes. Or five eternities.

A tap on his shoulder startled him.

A policeman.

"Hey, kid. You okay? Plaza's closing down. Time to move."

Jimmy blinked, dazed. He didn't remember falling asleep. Only Luna remained beside him, curled peacefully, eyes closed in a light trance. The strange mark that had pulsed along her belly after fight... was gone.

He reached into his pocket and found something he didn't remember putting there.

A small, bronze watch—unmoving, but warm to the touch.

He looked up at the policeman and nodded.

As he stepped down from the dial, the last golden rays of evening filtered between the towers.

Jimmy turned to the driver waiting at the curb, the same man who had brought him earlier.

"I'll be staying here," Jimmy said, voice soft but firm. "I don't know for how long."

The driver gave a small bow. "Call me when you're ready to leave."

And then he was gone.

.......

Jimmy stood still long after the Sun Dial Whisp disappeared, the ticking echo of its presence still lingering in the corners of his mind. He didn't move. Not at first.

The rhythm in the stone had vanished, replaced by the usual bustle of Kirim City—voices, steps, laughter, and distant horns. But Jimmy… Jimmy was somewhere else.

He walked slowly to a quiet bench near the edge of the plaza, nestled under a rusted iron tree sculpture. The shadows stretched long now, golden fingers of dusk tracing along the stones. With a silent thought, he summoned Luna from his Mind's Garden.

She emerged like a whisper of mist, her newly evolved form elegant and powerful. Even now, she shimmered faintly in the dying sunlight. Her breath fogged gently in the cool air, and her hooves crackled with stored static.

Jimmy sat. Luna curled beside him, her head resting softly against his lap. The city moved around them—but not through them. Like they were caught in a pocket of forgotten time.

And then… he just stayed there.

Hours passed.

The sky turned orange, then pink, then velvet blue. Lamps buzzed to life, casting circles of golden glow across the pavement. At some point, Jimmy called out his other Whisps—just to feel them near, to see them breathing, glowing, pulsing in quiet life around him. Each one found a place near the bench. A silent constellation of bonded companions.

And Jimmy?

He just watched them, hand resting on Luna's mane, breath steady, eyes blindfolded but turned toward the stars.

He couldn't tell when he'd fallen asleep.

A firm tap on his shoulder stirred Jimmy.

The city was awake now—bright, noisy, indifferent.

Jimmy blinked behind his blindfold, feeling the hand of the officer gently pull him back into the present. But as he sat upright, the world around him felt... off.

For a moment, it was like he had been somewhere else—not just asleep, but far away. A place where all his Whisps had surrounded him—warm, glowing, silent. A dream that felt more real than stone or wind.

And now… they were gone.

He looked around. No …-type, no …-type. Only Luna, still resting lightly at his side, stirred.

His heart tightened.

He could still see them—those other Whisps—in his mind. The shapes, the colours, the way they had looked at him. He knew them like family. But…

He couldn't remember their names.

Not a single one.

Not what they did. Not what they sounded like. Not what their bond had felt like.

As if the dream had stolen them away, leaving behind only footprints in sand.

His hand slipped into his coat pocket, searching for... something.

And there it was.

The bronze pocket watch. Silent. Heavy. Real.

He held it in his palm. Warm.

The only proof that the night—or the morning—had happened at all.

He took a breath.

"Alright, son?" the officer asked kindly.

Jimmy nodded.

He stood slowly, brushing off his coat. He gave the officer a grateful nod and signed a small "thank you." He called that driver and said.

"Straight to the hotel."

And so they drove on. The city moved around them, but Jimmy's thoughts were elsewhere—on lost memories, fading rhythms, and the ticking of a watch that shouldn't exist.