thief of fate-Chapter 93: The Original Valerian Diaries 4

It was an ordinary day—or so it began. My fourteenth year hadn’t brought many changes. I was still the weakest, still the quietest, still the one who watched everyone from afar and read what lay behind their faces. But that day, something changed. Something changed me... forever.

I was in the palace’s back garden, under the big tree I’d loved since childhood. Its leaves lazily swayed in the wind, and sunlight filtered through them, scattering soft shadows across the ground. I was reading an old book I’d found in a neglected wing of the library, about ancient philosophy and something called the "nature of the self." I wondered—as I often did—why I didn’t possess anything special. Why wasn’t I born like Rayne or Alexis or Claire?

Then... it appeared.

A red screen. No, not just red—deep crimson, like dried blood stuck to glass. It floated before me without sound, without preamble, without warning. It was there, clear, sharp, frightening.

At its center, words in a slanted font glowed in a faint white:

"Do you want to become better?"

Not "stronger," not "richer," not "more famous," but... better.

My gaze lingered on the last word. I didn’t understand why this thing chose that particular word. Better... a broad, relative, undefined concept. But I felt something creep inside me, as if the screen... understood me.

I blinked.

And it vanished.

I thought I was imagining things.

But it returned the next day.

And again the night after, when I was walking in the dark corridor near my mother’s room, where she still lay unmoving, ever since that strange illness took her from our lives.

And each time, the same question: "Do you want to become better?"

I began to test it.

Once, I tried to get Zeik’s attention when we were training. I looked at the screen, pointed at it, and shouted, "Do you see this?"

He answered with honest confusion: "What?"

He saw nothing.

My heart started to race. It wasn’t a hallucination, but it also wasn’t something normal.

A week passed, then two. It would appear at strange times: when I was alone, or deep in thought, or when I felt like I’d lost something I couldn’t name.

And on a certain day, when I was sitting on the palace roof, watching the sun sink into the distant sea, I decided to speak.

I looked at it. It appeared again, same color, same question.

I stared at it for a long time, then whispered:

"...Who are you?"

For the first time... it didn’t vanish.

In fact, the opposite happened.

The screen trembled, as if a wave of life surged through it. The old words shattered and faded, and then a single new word appeared, very slowly, as if carved into the air:

"I am..."

Then silence, for seconds that felt like ages.

A voice appeared. Not a human voice, but like thousands of voices whispering together from behind the veil of time, a voice with a touch of masculinity, a touch of femininity, and something not of this world.

It said:

"I am Serathzi."

I froze.

That name... I hadn’t heard it before, but it hit me as if it had always been a part of me.

"What are you?" I asked, but heard no reply.

The screen faded, as if it had never been.

I sat there for a long time, searching my memory, the books, anything that could explain this. But "Serathzi"... wasn’t mentioned in any record, nor in any legend.

And yet, deep inside, I felt something pulsing...

I didn’t know what it meant, nor why it chose me. But I knew, with certainty, that my life would never be the same again.

Days passed since I first heard its name. Serathzi.

I didn’t know if it was a being, a system, or something else I didn’t have a name for. All I knew was that I was the only one who could see it and hear it, and its words were nothing like those of humans.

It appeared without preamble, always at moments of inner emptiness. As if it was stalking my solitude.

One evening, in the abandoned garden where no one dared go, the screen appeared again.

But this time, there were no words first.

The voice came first, a whisper in my ear, as if it were sitting just behind my shoulder:

"You think too much, Valerian."

I shivered. I still wasn’t used to the tone of its voice.

I answered quietly: "Am I supposed to be reassured that you know what I’m thinking?"

It laughed. Not real laughter, but a wave of sound resembling laughter.

"If you didn’t think, you wouldn’t be qualified at all."

I looked at the screen as it glowed slowly.

I said: "I want to know... what do you mean when you said: Do you want to become better? Why didn’t you say stronger? Or smarter? Or even extraordinary?"

Silence, then it spoke in a low voice, as if its words were being carved inside me:

"Because better is not measured by the surface."

"Because the strongest can be defeated, the smartest can be deceived, and the extraordinary can be broken."

"But the better one... is he who cannot be defeated, even when he falls."

I felt chills run through me, not because its words were frightening, but because they were beautiful... in a disturbing way.

I asked: "And who decides who is better? You?"

"You do."

"I only show you the path."

"But you will not walk it... unless you’re willing to pay the price."

I froze.

"What price?"

"The only price asked of those who have nothing..."

"Yourself."

I didn’t answer.

The following night, while I was in my room, quietly listening to my mother’s breathing behind the walls, his voice returned to me.

"You know, Valerian... everyone around you plays a role."

"Rayne the strong, Alexis the genius, Claire the precise... they all wear their masks perfectly."

"But you... you wear none, and that’s why you are the truest. And that’s why you are the most important."

I whispered: "You speak as if you’ve known me since birth."

"I was never far."

"I watched, waited, and wondered... will you break the mold?"

"What mold?"

"The one they made for you. The title of the weak. The shame of the family. The outsider."

"They wanted you to be just a background in their stories."

"But I... I see you as something else."

"And what do you see me as?"

A long silence.

Then:

"I see you as something yet to be written."

On the third day, I tried to be more cautious. I realized its words were like poison... delicious, smooth, but could kill without me noticing.

I said to it: "You don’t answer my questions clearly."

It laughed again, a sound that made the windows shake slightly.

"Because clarity is a lie, Valerian."

"People want to see everything as black or white."

"But the truth... is a dark grey, curling like smoke."

I looked at it for a long time. At the screen that didn’t vanish. At the voice that slowly dwelled within me.

I was drawn... no, enchanted.

But I wasn’t stupid.

I whispered: "You’re manipulating me."

"I’m showing you yourself."

"What do you want from me?"

"To choose."

"And why me?"

"Because you are the weakest."

I froze.

"And the one born weak... either stays that way, or becomes something... no one expects."

Days passed. Weeks.

I didn’t answer it.

And I didn’t reject it.

But I kept thinking... every day.

Do I want it? Do I trust it? Is what it offers real? And can I bear the price if I accept?

But inside me, in depths I couldn’t reach, something told me... that Serathzi wasn’t just a strange voice.

But a key.

A key to something... no one knows.

And I didn’t know, back then, that this something would change everything.

Forever.

.....

Months passed.

Or perhaps just weeks—time had stopped meaning what it used to.

Every night, I heard him.

And every day, I saw him—appearing in fleeting moments of distraction, in the shadows of mirrors, in the moonlight as it fractured on my windowpane.

I tried to resist him, but something inside me melted before him.

And that night... I decided.

I was standing alone in my room.

Staring at the glass, gazing at my fractured reflection: a boy who hadn’t yet found a place to belong.

A voice whispered inside me: Either you choose... or you’re chosen.

I murmured,

"I... accept."

Silence.

Then, that red light appeared once more—blazing before me like a living ember.

And on the screen, a single word:

"Good."

Then came the voice of Serathzi, clearer than ever before—as if he was speaking inside my skull, but with a thousand layered voices:

"You have chosen, Valerian."

"And now... it’s time you knew the truth."

I swallowed. I didn’t know what to expect—but what I heard next was far beyond anything I imagined.

"You will not remain long in this body."

I froze.

"What?"

"This body you now inhabit... was stolen."

"Or rather... it will be."

The words struck like lightning.

"What do you mean? How? Who?"

"Someone is coming. From far away. From a depth no foot has ever touched."

"They will take your body, your name, your life... everything you are now."

"And leave you... just an echo."

My heart clenched.

"Who is it?"

"You won’t know them until they arrive. And they won’t see you when they do. Because they will become... you."

My hands trembled. The world spun around me.

"And this... is a fate I can’t change?"

"No. I’m here... to offer you a chance."

He paused, then continued, his voice soft as venom:

"When that body is taken from you... it won’t be the end."

"I will give you another."

"In another place. In another world. Where no one knows who you were, or what you lost."

"But there... you’ll have a new beginning. There... you can become the best, truly."

It felt like the air had vanished from the room. My heartbeat was pounding in my ears.

"And... will I still be me?"

"That depends on you."

"The memories... the pain... the dream... all of it will remain. But who you become there—that will be your choice alone."

"And what do you want from me?"

"That you never forget the one who took you."

"And that you never forgive."

A long silence stretched between us.

I had read in books about nightmares that wake you in the middle of the night...

But no one had written about the ones that wake your soul and leave your body sleeping.

At last, I asked:

"Why are you helping me?"

He laughed—but this time, the laugh was sorrowful. Almost human.

"Because I was like you, once."

That night, I didn’t sleep.

I sat staring at my hands, studying my skin, the edges of my fingers, and wondering...

What will my new body look like?

What will the other world be like?

And will I recognize myself when I wake up there?