Anomaly

Honestly, I’ve never thought of myself as someone reliable. At the end of the day, I’m just a person trying to do the best I can with whatever the situation throws at me. Even so, when Eryanis’s words faded and my lips moved to reply, something unexpected happened. My mind had lined up every thought neatly, turning them into a clear answer—or at least, that’s what I believed.
But the moment my voice filled the silence, the sound that came out was so strange I hesitated myself. It was as if those words had come from somewhere that wasn’t entirely mine, and for a moment, I couldn’t tell what I had really meant.
(Yeah...) I thought, keeping my eyes locked on Eryanis’s as if afraid she might vanish if I looked away: (I think you’re right)
I don’t exactly know why my words came out that way. To be honest, I’ve never felt like I carry any sort of burden. I don’t act out of duty or because of some mission handed to me—at least, I’ve never seen myself that way. If you asked me, I’d say everything I do just... happens by chance.
It was coincidence when I met Nekra, coincidence when I crossed paths with Althea, and the same when I met Nyara. Deep down, sometimes I wonder if there’s a hidden purpose behind all these encounters—or if it’s all just some strange game of fate.
Still, I can’t deny it’s all, at the very least, strange. Each of those situations felt like they were calling me, as if some invisible force was pulling me toward them—a force I couldn’t name, but that burned somewhere deep inside me.
It was an urge I didn’t know was mine or something placed there by someone else. Honestly, why did I lose my memories? Or, thinking about it... why would I reset them myself? Is it something only a version of me—stripped of the past—could solve? But then, what about these implanted human memories?
Were they just a random detail... or part of a plan I created myself, knowing I’d one day have to walk this path? As long as these questions remain unanswered, I feel like I’m still stuck on the surface of something much greater—and the nagging feeling that I’m on the edge of discovering something that could change everything just keeps growing stronger.
But leaving all that aside, when I looked back at Eryanis and really saw her, a slight, unexpected tremor ran across my face. For a brief instant, I saw myself from the outside, as if I were watching from some distant perspective.
That’s when I realized—my lips were slightly curved upward. A smile—subtle, almost shy—was forming on my face. Me, the one who hardly ever shows any sign of joy, was smiling.
Eryanis, still nestled in my arms, seemed to notice the change in my expression. Her curious eyes narrowed for a second, reflecting a mix of tenderness and faint suspicion.
Then, with a nearly feline grace, she blinked slowly, raised an eyebrow in a playful way, and asked in a tone that sounded both amused and intrigued: “What’s with that look?”
For a moment, I thought about her question. Why was I smiling, exactly? Honestly... I wasn’t even sure myself. It just happened, as if the smile had shown up on its own, without asking me for permission.
After thinking about it for a few seconds, I let out a quiet sigh, shrugged, and answered her with the first thing that came to mind—simple, almost distracted, but enough to break the silence between us.
(It’s nothing) I replied, letting my words echo directly in Eryanis’s mind: (I just thought... it’s ironic. The feeling that you know more about me than I do is, at the very least, unsettling)
As soon as my words echoed in Eryanis’s mind, her eyes blinked three times, quick and nervous, as if trying to shake off the confusion taking hold there. Without saying a single word, she turned her gaze to the floor and, hesitantly, buried her face in my chest, lightly rumpling my loose shirt with the tip of her nose.
The silence between us stretched on, but it wasn’t empty—it was filled with the embarrassment she was trying to hide. The tips of her ears, now tinted a soft red, betrayed every emotion she wasn’t saying out loud. Once again, I caught myself thinking how impossibly cute Eryanis could be without even trying.
We stayed like that for a while, in silence, and I couldn’t help but let a faint smile appear as I admired just how adorable she looked in that moment. Slowly, she seemed to calm down, as if my earlier words had taken some of the weight off her shoulders. Still holding her, I let my gaze wander around—and once again, I was struck by how strange this place felt.
At the same time as it stirred a weird sense of nostalgia, there was also a mystery in the air I couldn’t put into words. It was like my mind was floating down a warm, gentle river, just letting the current carry me. I drifted into thought—and before I knew it, a stray thought escaped me, almost like an involuntary whisper: (Where exactly is this?)
Eryanis, who until then had kept her head resting against my shoulder, finally reacted to my words. She slowly lifted her head, as if the simple act took effort, and her eyes—clear, yet carrying a faint, melancholic glow—met mine. There was confusion in her expression, but also a hint of concern.
“Your memories of the Cradle of Creation still haven’t come back?” her voice was quiet, almost as if she feared the question itself: “That’s... strange. I don’t remember it ever taking this long for them to return in the previous times”
Though the phrase “previous times” caught my attention, I couldn’t hold on to it after hearing the words “Cradle of Creation” For a second, my mind went completely blank, as if the world around me had gone silent. A shiver ran down my spine, and a strange feeling washed over me—a mix of unease and a haunting kind of sadness.
Somehow, I felt I should know what that name meant... as if it were carved somewhere deep inside me. But, as always, nothing surfaced—only that nagging sense of familiarity, like I was just on the verge of remembering something crucial but couldn’t quite reach it.
(Cradle of Creation?) I repeated mentally, tasting each syllable. The name sounded foreign, yet it stirred something inside me—an uncomfortable feeling, as though I’d heard it before, in some half-forgotten dream: (What is that?)
Eryanis, catching my mental whispers, blinked a few times—a brief but meaningful gesture—before finally moving her lips. Her voice came out quiet, almost reverent: “The Cradle of Creation... is our home. It’s where we were born and where we spent most of our existence. But it’s more than that—it was also where She once dwelled”
For a moment, I couldn’t hide my surprise at her words. But, if I was honest with myself, it wasn’t exactly what she said that left me this way—it was the tone in her voice, a quiet certainty that cut through me like a blade. My lips moved almost on instinct, before I had time to think: (Will you tell me about it?)
Eryanis, hearing my words, tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow, as if trying to figure out if I was serious. Her voice carried a hint of confusion when she asked: “I... shouldn’t?”
Honestly, I was at a loss for words at her question. I mean, normally, when someone asks something... isn’t the other person expected to answer? And yet, after spending so long with three particular individuals, something in me had changed.
I’d started treating answers to my own questions almost like a taboo—or at least as something too rare to expect: (It’s not that I don’t want to hear anything, it’s just that... Nekra, Althea, and Nyara never bothered to answer my questions. Over time, I think I started taking their silence as something natural)
Catching my mental words, Eryanis let out a small smile of understanding before replying, her voice sounding almost amused: “I don’t doubt it. Althea has always been like that... as if she enjoys other people’s discomfort. Nekra, well, she rarely cares about anything—and given her nature, I have no reason to complain. Nyara, on the other hand... she’s so shy that sometimes just getting a word out of her feels like an impossible mission”
Finishing her words, Eryanis pressed her hand to her forehead, her fingers massaging the skin as if trying to ease a persistent ache beginning to throb there. Her gaze drifted for a moment, almost like she was remembering something unpleasant: “Come to think of it... Time, Hope, and Fear also have pretty troublesome personalities” she murmured, her voice sounding tired.
A brief silence followed before she let out a heavy, almost resigned sigh: “Why are they all like this?” she asked the empty air, a trace of bitterness in her tone: “Couldn’t we just be a normal family for once?”
Putting Eryanis’s thoughts aside, I couldn’t help noticing how ironic that was—after all, even though she wished for a normal family, it’s undeniable she’s easily one of the most unique among us. That contradiction had always intrigued me, but what really grabbed my attention was something in her last words. When Eryanis mentioned “Her”... who was this figure everyone spoke of so naturally, as if it were obvious?
Of course, it’s not like I had no idea who she was talking about. But when I compare what I know to what my sisters know, I realize just how fragmented, how incomplete my understanding really is. I know, for instance, that she’s the one responsible for all creation—or rather, I’m fully aware that everything that exists is here because she brought it into being.
And yet, I still can’t clearly define what she really is. Eryanis, who had stayed silent until then, watching me with that unnervingly serene look, turned her gaze to our surroundings for a moment, as if making sure no one was listening.
Then she looked back at me—her calm, watchful expression seemed to read my every thought like open pages. When she spoke, her voice was quiet, almost conspiratorial: “You want to know about Mom, don’t you?”
Hearing Eryanis’s words, a knot of confusion formed in my head. Was she really going to tell me? Just like that? No hesitation, no buildup? For a moment, it felt like the air around me grew heavier.
Eryanis, however, seemed to notice my lost expression and just shrugged, as if it were the most trivial thing in the world: “I don’t see why not” she said with unsettling calm: “Besides, your memory should return soon anyway”
Of course, I’d love to find out who—or what—this entity really is. But, if I’m being honest, there was something else eating at me inside, something that stirred an even deeper curiosity than simply learning her identity: (You also know why I reset my memories... and why I ended up on Earth, don’t you?)
Eryanis flinched slightly at my question. For a moment, her eyes narrowed in a way almost feline, as if trying to pierce through me. There was anger there, but also something like frustration—a dangerous mix: “I don’t know anything about that” she said, her voice sounding sulky: “You’ve always been secretive about your duties. Not even Mom would answer when we asked. All she ever said was that you always knew what you had to do... from the moment you appeared”
I thought long and hard about Eryanis’s words, trying to decipher what they truly meant, what they represented in the grand scheme of things. It felt like every syllable carried a weight far too old to ignore.
Before I could get even more lost in my thoughts, Eryanis broke the silence herself, her voice sounding like a distant echo—deep, calm, and steady: “You know... we, the Virtues, were all born at the same instant. But our awakenings weren’t the same—each of us woke up at a different moment, depending on the urgency of our creation. I was the first to open my eyes. At the beginning, everything was chaotic...” she paused briefly, as if revisiting painful memories: “a chaos unlike Nyara’s—wild, unaware of itself, without intent, just... chaos. Nothing had form, nothing followed any order. That’s why I had to step in”