The rain fell without warning.
The drops fell like ink spilled on the night, wetting the window of the small room. The table lamp in the corner flickered only weakly, reflecting a yellowish light on the face of a young man who sat silently in front of a pile of papers.
Harith Hadami.
A name that once lived on the list of the most rising new writers. Now his name was just an echo lost in time.
Years passed, his last manuscript failed to be published. His love was gone. His spirit was extinguished.
And that night, he just wanted to sleep to the sound of the rain, with all the memories he could no longer recall.
But something on his desk was breathing.
An old, dusty book, its black cover worn with faint engravings in the shape of two crossed stars.
Harith could not remember when he had it. But it was as if the book was waiting for its time to wake up.
As his fingers touched the surface of the book's cover,
the ink on the title began to move on its own, forming letter by letter like flowing blood
THE SONG OF TWO STARS
Harith stiffened. His breath stopped.
Is the book... alive?
He opened it slowly. The first page was blank but then a sentence appeared, written in a handwriting he knew so well.
"Every time you try to rewrite a lost love, the world will rewrite you."
Harith's heart beat fast. It was... a sentence from his first novel that he burned years ago. No one was supposed to know.
He flipped to the next page.
A new chapter formed before his eyes. The letters appeared one by one, as if being typed by a ghostly hand.
CHAPTER 1: The Author Who Forgot Himself.
The wind suddenly whirled. The desk lamp went out. The world around him became blurry as if the room was being sucked into the paper.
Dust began to float like snow. And between the lightning flashes, Harith saw something that couldn't possibly be real
The sky.
Not the ceiling of his room but the night sky with two moons hanging overhead.
He stood in the middle of a vast meadow, the book still in his hand. Behind him, the shadow of the rubble and the remains of the unextinguished fire.
The book was open, its pages fluttering in the wind.
WELCOME BACK, AUTHOR.
The voice did not come from a human. It echoed directly in his mind...soft, but powerful.
Harith looked around. "Who are you?" his voice trembled.
You have forgotten your own world, Harith Hadami.
He tried to run, but the ground beneath him changed like the pages of a book being turned. The sky changed between night and day, between fire and snow.
Every time he took a step, new verses appeared in the air.
"He was lost in the world he himself had created."
And at that moment he realized that this world was rewriting itself, line by line.
---
The wind stopped.
From afar, a girl stood among the ruins...her hair was silvery white, her eyes were pale blue and her right hand was clutching a piece of glass.
She stared at Harith, as if she had been waiting for him for a long time.
"...You have finally come."
Harith did not recognize her. But there was something in the way the girl said her voice as if she had known every word of the name for a long time.
"Who are you?" Harith asked.
The girl smiled weakly, then replied
"I am Lyria... and this world once called you, the star writer."
---
The rain stopped.
The book in Harith's hand closed by itself. On its back cover, a new sentence was engraved with letters that had not existed a few minutes ago:
"And just like that, the forgotten story began to write itself again."