chapter one: the day before the song

I sat quietly beside my mother as her fingers danced across the strings of her classical guitar.

Soft, glowing pink musical symbols floated into existence, drifting gently through the air like living petals. They shimmered with every note she played, rising and falling as if guided by an unseen rhythm.

My purple and pink cosmic-like eyes wandered across our surroundings.

Our home—an ancient Japanese-style building—stood calm and timeless. Wooden pillars, curved rooftops, and paper walls breathed history. Around us, nature responded to her melody:

Leaves swayed in perfect rhythm.

Flowers bloomed faster than they should.

Butterflies gathered, drawn by something deeper than nectar.

I took a slow breath.

The air was filled with the fragrance of life itself.

Turning my head, I looked at her.

Her eyes were gently closed.

Her long green hair flowed like silk in the melodic breeze.

Every movement… every note…

Was perfect.

A small smile formed on my face.

“Mom…”

She slowly opened her eyes.

Crystal-clear blue, warm and gentle.

“Yes, my dear?”

She stopped playing.

Instantly, the glowing symbols faded… as if they had never existed.

I hesitated for a moment, then asked:

“When am I going to awaken to a rail… and which rail will I awaken to?”

She looked at me quietly.

Not surprised. Not worried.

Just… thoughtful.

“Be patient, Crisselar,” she said softly.

“Awakening to a rail is the most crucial step in one’s life… but also the most dangerous.”

Her gaze shifted to the sky above.

Clear. Endless.

“It is not something you rush. It comes from understanding… or from a deep, unbreakable connection.”

I leaned forward slightly, curiosity burning brighter.

“How many rails are there? And… what makes them different?”

She smiled faintly.

“There are six Rhapsodies in total.”

She raised her hand gently, and faint symbols flickered—brief, almost invisible.

“Each Rhapsody contains levels. And together… the Rhapsody and its levels form what we call a Rail.”

I blinked.

“So… the rail is like a path?”

She nodded.

“Yes. A path of understanding.”

Then her expression became slightly more serious.

“Each rail has multiple levels… and strangely enough, the lower your level… the stronger you become.”

“Wow…” I whispered under my breath.

She continued:

“The rails are ranked based on their overall authority and power.”

She turned back to me, her eyes calm but firm.

“At the very top… is the Symphony Rail.”

I felt a strange chill.

“Below it… the Movement Rail.”

Her voice flowed like her music.

“Then comes the Harmony Rail… followed by the Melody Rail.”

She paused briefly.

“Next is the Rhythm Rail…”

“And finally… the Note Rail.”

I tilted my head slightly.

“So the Note Rail is the weakest?”

She shook her head immediately.

“No, Crisselar.”

Her tone was gentle—but firm.

“No rail is truly weak.”

She leaned closer, placing a hand softly on my head.

“It all depends on understanding.”

I froze.

“Understanding…?”

“Yes.”

Her voice lowered slightly, as if sharing a secret.

“A person who fully understands their rail… can surpass someone from a higher rail.”

My eyes widened.

“Even the Symphony Rail…?”

She smiled.

“Even the Symphony Rail.”

Silence fell between us.

The wind passed gently.

The leaves rustled again—but this time, without music.

“…Mom.”

“Yes?”

“…What rail do you think I’ll awaken to?”

For a moment—

She didn’t answer.

Her hand paused on my head.

Her eyes softened… but something deeper hid behind them.

Something I didn’t understand.

“…That,” she said quietly,

“…is something even I cannot decide.”

I frowned slightly.

“But you must have a guess, right?”

She let out a soft breath… then smiled again.

“A mother always has a feeling.”

I leaned forward eagerly.

“Then what is it?”

She looked directly into my eyes.

Deep. Calm.

Certain.

“You won’t just awaken to a rail…”

My heart skipped.

“You will change the meaning of one.”

The wind suddenly stilled.

For a brief moment…

Everything felt… quiet.

Too quiet.

And far away—

Somewhere beyond the sky…

A faint, distorted sound echoed.

Like a broken note.

My mother’s expression changed.

Just slightly.

But I noticed.

“…Mom?”

She stood up slowly.

Her guitar vanished into particles of light.

The peaceful air…

Was gone.

“…It seems,” she said softly,

“Wait, Mom?”

My voice came out soft… but firm.

She stopped just slightly, though she didn’t turn around.

“What do you mean… my awakening may come sooner than expected?”

A mix of confusion, curiosity, and excitement stirred inside me.

She finally turned.

Her expression was calm—as always.

“Today,” she said gently,

“the village below will be hosting an awakening ceremony… for you and the other children.”

I froze.

“…Village?”

My brows furrowed.

“You mean there are people down this mountain… and you never told me? Or sent me there?”

A faint trace of fear crept into my voice.

She looked at me quietly.

“I never told you because I was waiting for the right moment,” she replied.

A soft breeze lifted her white dress, causing it to sway gently in the air.

“The others… already know about you.”

I lowered my head slightly.

“…Don’t you think I’d be a bit nervous?”

My fingers tightened slightly at my sides.

This was the first time in my entire five years…

that I would be leaving this place.

She stepped closer.

“Don’t worry,” she said softly.

Her hand reached out, brushing through my long black hair—its crimson tips shimmering faintly, while strands of different colors flowed gently like living light.

“Everything will be fine.”

She bent slightly, her eyes meeting mine.

“And besides…”

A playful smile appeared on her face.

“You’re five years old now… a grown mama’s boy.”

“…Mom,” I muttered, slightly embarrassed.

She chuckled softly.

“Now, come.”

She turned and began walking toward the path leading down the mountain.

I hesitated for just a second…

“…Okay, Mom.”

I quickly caught up and grabbed her right hand.

The path was unlike anything I had ever imagined.

It stretched downward in long, elegant steps—ancient yet beautifully crafted, as if each stone had been placed with purpose.

Flowers of countless colors lined both sides.

Butterflies danced freely in the air.

Soft grass brushed gently against the edges of the steps.

Everything felt… alive.

As we walked, my mother smiled quietly.

Her presence alone made the path feel brighter—like stars had descended and taken human form.

I looked around with wide, curious eyes.

“…Mom, what’s the ceremony like?”

“…Will it hurt?”

“…What if nothing happens?”

“…What if I awaken to the weakest rail?”

Questions poured out of me one after another.

She answered patiently.

Calmly.

Without ever losing that gentle smile.

Through her explanations, I learned something important.

She was a Level 3 user of the Rhythm Rail.

A Writer.

Someone who could influence time itself—its flow, its pace… even its structure.

I glanced at her hand, still holding mine.

“…So Mom… you can control time?”

She smiled faintly.

“To a certain extent.”

I tightened my grip slightly.

“…That’s amazing.”

After that…

We walked in silence.

Not an awkward silence.

Not an empty one.

But a peaceful silence.

The kind where words weren’t needed.

The wind moved gently.

The flowers swayed.

The sky stretched endlessly above us.

And for the first time in my life…

I was leaving the only world I had ever known.

Far below—

Just barely visible through the drifting mist—

Was something new.

A village.

And somewhere within it…

My future awaited.

“…your awakening may come sooner than expected.”

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***