But this galaxy was ultimately different from the solar system. The power of magic took root in the land, and not long after, Verdya entered the legendary era of old, with prophets and warriors coexisting, staffs and swords wielded together. Naily did not intend to deliberately change things, but she would not allow the previous tragedies to happen again. The past Verdya was completely destroyed in her moment of thought, and a new Verdya would be reborn under her protection. If what she did was enough to be called a god, then was the god who watched Verdya’s destruction the same as her?
Perhaps that person also casually created a blazing star and then watched an entire galaxy’s birth, perhaps also calmly and lovingly watched planets rotating counterclockwise around the star. But in the end, that person chose to give up. That “god’s” anger was named fate. Naily quietly swore she would not do the same. Simply destroying what she had created by hand due to disappointment and trouble was ultimately just an escape called punishment. She had escaped once and could not repeat the same mistake. She would accompany this world until her given time ran out.
She began to look forward to the moment of falling asleep each night. She was obsessed with that galaxy, perhaps because in a corner of her heart a wish was quietly growing. But she also knew that even if the wish came true, she could only watch from a height imperceptible to the world’s people. She seemed to understand the coldness of heights for the first time, a cold that penetrated her bones. But what did any of this matter? Once she closed her eyes, another world known only to her was quietly waiting. And perhaps one day, she could find someone again on the surface of that planet.
Even if she could only see him from afar, even if she could only watch his joys and sorrows, she would be satisfied.
