Knock, knock! I sat up, blinking. “Uhmm….Who’s knocking at this hour?” I mumbled, shaking off sleep.
Knock, knock!
“Comiiinggg~!” I yelled, dragging myself up.
Click. Clack.
Of course. The door was stuck. Again.
I banged on it from the inside and shouted,
“Hey! Noon worker! Give it a push, will you? This door knows me too well to let me escape on my own—so go ahead, make your way in!”
“Okay, I’m pushing in 3 seconds… 3, 2, 1!”
BANG! CRACK! THUD!
Yes, the door crashed—it really crashed.
Just as I was about to get angry, I looked up at the person standing in front of me—and I was shocked, surprised, and totally weirded out.
The person standing in front of me was... strange. Like, strange-strange.
I was damn sure I’d never seen him before—because trust me, you don’t forget someone that shiny.
His metallic hair shimmered like it had been spun from silver threads, catching the light in a way that made me squint. His outfit? Straight out of a fairy tale, but with a twist—less “charming prince,” more “mysterious wizard who may or may not take you under some hypnotizing spell.”
He wore a long, flowing cape that sparkled with tiny stars, as if the night sky had been stitched directly onto fabric. His boots were pointy, his belt had tiny potion bottles, and honestly, the whole look screamed “I know magic and I'm not afraid to use it.”
But I don’t know why he feels somewhat familiar “So… are you sure you’re in the right world? I mean, the right door?”
“Yeah, I’m definitely at the right door, lady. Don’t worry,” he replied calmly.
“That’s not really my main concern right now,” I muttered.
“Oh! And about your ‘entrance wood’—I mean, door—I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to break it.”
“It’s fine like right now, don’t worry,” I said. “So… how do I know you?”
He smiled. “Oh, you don’t know me yet. I’m here to let you know about me.”
“But… why though?” I squinted. “Is that necessary? And, first of all—who even are you, and why are you here?”
I genuinely couldn’t grasp the situation. Like, reality had taken a coffee break.
He nodded calmly. “I’ll answer all your questions, lady, but first… may I know your name?”
Okay. Red flag. Huge red flag.
No, you may not! You’re sus! That’s what I wanted to say.
Instead, I replied cautiously, “…It’s Xanthia. And may I know yours?”
“Zer,” he said, bowing slightly. “And I’m here to assist you on your tour to The Alicita.”
Wait. What?!
Alicita?
That name made my brain short-circuit for a second.
“How do you know about Alicita?” I asked, blinking rapidly.
“Alicita is my hometown,” he replied matter-of-factly. “And you asked me to assist you. I even told you I’d be here by noon today.”
“I did? When did I—”
My voice trailed off as my brain hit pause, rewind, and then fast-forward all at once.
Wait a minute… wait a minute.
I dashed over to my laptop, pulled up my order history—and there it was my midnight stupidity.
I had ordered a Zer the Sorcerer miniature from this weird site that kept spamming ads in my game lately. Every time I logged into The Secrets of Magic, this site—Your Personal Helper—popped up with flashy banners offering “exclusive gameplay companions.”
The product page displayed all kinds of in-game characters—but Zer? Zer was different.
It was the first time I’d ever seen his character, and damn, I was in love.
He wasn’t just cool—he was beautiful. Like a direct descendant of the moon—sculpted in starlight and somehow designed specifically to be mine.
Without thinking, I clicked on him. Instinctively. Like my soul had made the decision before my brain could catch up. The description read:
“Get your personal sorcerer to help you! Experience the game like never before—with real-life adventure!”
I’d thought it was just clever marketing. Maybe an in-game bonus. At most, a tiny animated AR figure.
So yeah… I bought it. With my birthday savings, no less. That was going to be my treat for myself, but honestly? A shiny new feature in my favorite game felt like a treat.
Okay, sure—the character did look just like him… but I ordered a miniature, not a life-sized wizard cosplayer showing up at my front door.
That’s why he looked weird—but also… strangely familiar.
And Alicita? That was the new city launching today in The Secrets of Magic.
But here’s the thing: Alicita hadn’t even been publicly announced yet.
It was a secret level—one that only unlocked if you'd cleared Botyl, the City of Fear.
And me? I was the 19th player in the world to do it. Nineteenth! Out of everyone.
Just this morning, I got a game notification that read:
Congratulations to the first 50 players worldwide to clear Botyl—supposedly the final stage! Your dedication and love for the game has unlocked a special reward: Alicita, the City of Imagination. We hope you’ve selected your guide, because the journey begins today at 12:30 PM. Prepare for an experience unlike anything you've ever known—or will ever forget. Have fun! 🎉
So yeah. How did he know about Alicita already?
I was still trying to reboot my brain and sync it with whatever my last-night brain had impulsively done when Zer spoke again:
“I apologize, Lady Xanthia, but I believe time is running out.”
“Wait—what time? What’s happening?” I asked, totally confused.
“I know this is all quite abrupt, but please forgive me,” he said, bowing slightly.
And then—he teleported.
No smoke, no chant, no CGI sparkle.
One second he was standing calmly by my door, and the next—bam! He was right next to me, just inches from my hand.
My heart nearly passed out. I nearly passed out. It dropped straight to his shiny leaf-covered feet.
Before I could even shriek properly, he gently reached out and touched my index finger with his.
I blinked—just blinked—and suddenly…
I was not in my room anymore.
Yup. Just when I thought that was the limit of the day’s surprises, the universe said, “Are you challenging me child.”
And as I tried to process literally everything, a calm voice beside me said:
“Welcome to Alicita.”
Of course. Of course.
Because that’s what it meant.
At that point, I was so done—mentally, emotionally, existentially.
I decided to postpone all thinking (and overthinking) for later—future me could deal with the logically figuring things out stuff. Right now, I was here… wherever “here” was. And honestly? I might as well enjoy it.
So, I looked around.
And—damn—it was breathtaking.
Pretty? Glamorous? I don’t even know what words fit.
Because Alicita, the so-called "City of Imagination," was nothing like what you'd normally imagine.
You’d expect green fields, a bright blue sky, birds, flowers—the usual fantasy fluff, right?
But nope. Alicita flipped the script.
It was raining. A soft, delicate shower—not heavy, not stormy. Just the kind of rain that makes everything shimmer.
And somehow, I wasn’t even getting wet.
Zer was beside me, holding part of his cloak over me like a magical umbrella. It should’ve looked ridiculous. Instead, it felt… weirdly sweet.
The fields around us were muddy, but in the most aesthetic way possible—like a painting that got rained on and somehow looked better for it.
And ahead of us, there it was: a city, standing proud in the middle of it all. No rain there—just the golden glow of a perfect autumn evening. The kind of weather that makes you nostalgic for something you’ve never even lived.
It was so… me.
As if the whole place had been handcrafted from the deepest corners of my heart—curated from every cozy, magical daydream I’d ever had.
I stood there, completely overwhelmed.
Tears were just there at the very edge of my eyes.
It was beautiful.
Not in the generic postcard way. But the kind of beautiful that says,
“Hey, I was made for you.”
“Let’s start this journey, make it more yours” Zer whispered in my ears
I looked at him and gave a slight nod, a smile stuck to my lips I couldn’t get rid of even if I tried.
Then—swoosh—I kicked off my shoes right into the muddy field and ran.
Still in my crumpled nightshirt and shorts, hair a mess, toes splashing in puddles—I looked like a toddler who just discovered chaos and freedom were best friends.
I fell. Of course, I fell.
Twice, actually. Maybe three times.
By the end of my lap around the field, I was 70% mud.
I looked back at Zer. He was just standing there, watching me.
But hey, wasn’t he my supporting character? Shouldn’t he be, I don’t know—supporting?
Grinning wickedly, I scooped up a handful of mud—courtesy of my last fall—and launched it at him.
Bullseye.
He blinked, stunned, for exactly two seconds—then a sly smirk formed on his lips.
“Oh, you want war?” he said.
In a flash, a glowing mud ball twice the size of mine spun into his hand—with magic.
“Hey hey hey! Cheating! That’s cheating!” I yelled, backing away. “Use your hands like I did!”
“That’s because you don’t have magic. Heh.”
“Aaahhhhhh!!” I screamed and ran, with him chasing behind me, laughing.
“You should’ve thought of the consequences!” he shouted while running after me.
And he was really laughing—like, genuinely enjoying himself.
I stopped suddenly and sat down, and he didn’t see that coming. He tripped and fell, and the mudball he’d conjured landed square on his head.
laughed so hard my stomach hurt.
He laughed too.
And just like that—we were back at it.
We played like kids—muddy, messy, magical—for an hour or two, until we were too tired to even stand up.
Side by side, we collapsed in the muddy grass, staring up at the cloudy sky.
The rain had softened into a gentle mist, cool drops kissing our cheeks as we caught our breath.
Neither of us said a word.
We didn’t need to.
The silence was soft. Warm. Like a pause button pressed on the whole universe.
And in that moment… the journey hadn’t just started.
It had already become ours.
After finally catching my breath, I stood up and extended my hand to Zer.
He took it gently and stood beside me.
“So… what do we do next?” I asked, brushing mud from my cheek.
He smiled, that quiet, knowing kind of smile.
“Whatever you want. The city is yours, after all.”
“Oh, is it?” I said, glancing at our muddy, rain-soaked clothes. “Well, we can’t exactly go like this, can we?”
“And how do you suggest we go?”
“In clean, dry clothes? Something comfortable. Casual, maybe.”
“What about this, then?”
With a simple flick of his hand, our outfits transformed.
I was now wearing a chic short black dress under a beige overcoat, paired with long black boots. My hair—once dripping wet—was now dry, styled into soft, effortless curls. Zer stood next to me in a black overcoat over a beige T-shirt and black trousers. We looked perfectly in sync, like co-leads in some magical indie film about to wander into a new world.
He touched my finger again, and blink—we were in the city.
Just as breathtaking from the inside as it was from afar.
“So, what’s the plan?” he asked.
“The plan,” I said, placing a dramatic hand on my stomach, “is to end my personal hunger strike and have an actual meal.”
“Then let’s head to Food Street.”
And oh, Food Street was a dream. A vibrant avenue lined with stalls, lanterns, sizzling griddles, and aromas that could make your soul cry from joy. It had street food from all over the world:
Bánh mì from Vietnam, tacos from Mexico, bao buns from China, ceviche from Peru, churros from Spain, currywurst from Berlin, falafel and shawarma from the Middle East, and spicy, flaky samosas from India.
All those dishes I’d only seen on Pinterest or food blogs—now laid out in front of me, sizzling and steaming.
“So, what’s the price tag on this dreamland?” I asked cautiously. “Tell me now if I have to wash dishes for eternity.”
Zer smirked. “Why would I wash dishes when you’re the one eating?”
I gave him the stare.
“Because. You. Are. My. Supporting. Character.”
He chuckled. “Relax. Everything’s free.”
“What? No way. Seriously, no caps?”
“No caps,” he said, deadpan. “Eat.”
And I did.
I tried Vietnamese bánh mì first—crusty baguette, sweet pickled vegetables, tender grilled meat.
Then I moved on to cheesy tacos that melted in my mouth.
The bao buns were warm clouds filled with BBQ heaven.
I had churros dipped in chocolate, crispy samosas that cracked at first bite, and shawarma so flavorful it made me close my eyes.
With every bite, I made dramatic sounds that made people turn.
Zer just watched, amused, like he’d seen this coming from miles away.
“I’m so full,” I whined eventually, still eyeing a stall selling pancakes.
“You can’t possibly want more.”
“But I do.”
“There’s still more to explore.”
“…Desserts?”
He sighed. “Only one round.”
He handed me a small bottle that looked suspiciously like a potion.
“What’s this?”
“Drink it. It’ll digest what you just ate and bring back your appetite.”
I took a sip, and ten seconds later, my hunger returned like magic.
“YES. Dessert time.”
We devoured pancakes topped with exotic fruits, mousse cakes layered with creams I couldn’t name, gelato that melted too fast, and cloud-like Japanese cheesecakes. I even tried an ice cream made from glowing blue fruit. Alicita exclusive, the vendor whispered.
We left the last food stall, ice creams in hand, walking slowly through the glowing streets of Alicita. I sighed, rubbing my stomach. “I’m so full.”
Zer smirked. “You tried to eat the whole world.”
“Worth it,” I said, laughing. “Even if I skip lunch for the next week.”
As we wandered, I spotted a spiraling tower ahead, bathed in golden light. “What’s that?”
“The Central Library,” Zer replied. “My favorite place here.”
My eyes lit up. “A library?”
He nodded. “Not just any library. It has every book ever written—and some that haven’t even been written yet.”
I blinked. “Okay, you have to take me there. Right now.”
“You sure? There are still places left to explore—music lane, mirror plaza, dream market...”
“I already explored more than I ever thought I could in a day,” I said with a smile. “But a magical library? That sounds like exactly how I want to end this.”
He smiled softly. “Then let’s go.”
And so we teleported again.
When we finally stepped inside, I was stunned.
The library was vast—endless, almost. Shelves curved up and around, spiraling into the high, domed ceiling. Books floated gently in mid-air, drifting to their places like they had minds of their own. Gentle music played somewhere in the background, like a lullaby made of wind and memory.
I wandered between the shelves, brushing my fingers over spines embossed with strange symbols and titles I couldn’t even pronounce. There were books of poetry that whispered as you opened them, storybooks that illustrated themselves in the air above your head, journals filled with dreams left unfinished by their writers.
“I could live here,” I murmured.
“I almost do,” Zer said, running his fingers along a row of ancient-looking tomes. “This place… it remembers you. Every time you come back, it keeps a shelf just for you.”
I found one—my name written in swirling script on the spine—and opened it.
Inside were the stories I’d never written but always imagined.
We stayed there for hours, sitting in a quiet alcove surrounded by cushions and stars painted on the ceiling. I read, Zer dozed off a little, and the silence between us felt like a warm blanket.
But eventually, time caught up.
Zer checked the fading glow on his wrist. “It’s almost time. We should head back.”
I nodded slowly, still dazed by the books and the wonder. “Okay. Let’s go.”
As we stepped outside, the sky had shifted again. It was night now—clear, starlit, and absolutely stunning.
He reached for my fingers again, but I stopped him.
“Let’s walk,” I said softly. “I want to see the night of Alicita.”
The city had transformed under the stars.
Steel lanterns floated mid-air, like glowing spirits. The sky shimmered with galaxies—thousands of stars blanketing us in their quiet light.
We walked in comfortable silence. It wasn’t awkward—just peaceful. Zer finally spoke, his voice low. “I still don’t know how I ended up in Alicita. I wasn’t always part of this place. But I am glad I was today”
I glanced at him and silently smiled. Some things didn’t need answers.
Eventually, we reached the field—the same place where it all began. The air felt different now, quieter. Realer.
“Shall we?” he asked.
“Yes,” I whispered.
He smiled gently. “May I?” he said, reaching out.
I nodded and placed my hand in his. In a blink, we were back in my room. The door still lay on the floor, the only trace of our journey.
“I’ll take my leave now, lady,” he said with a playful bow.
“Thank you, Zer,” I said softly. “You made today… perfect.”
“It’s Lyle, actually,” he replied with a grin. “And if you ever want to do this again, just—”
“Say your name three times?” I cut in.
“What? No! What do you think I am?” he laughed. “Here. My number. Just give me a call.”
“Oh, that’s very normal,” I teased.
“I am normal.”
“You’re the only one who thinks that.”
We both laughed, and then he leaned in for a hug. I hugged him back, warm and unhurried.
He whispered, “Happy birthday, Xanthia. Thank you for being born.”
My breath caught. “Wait, how did you—?”
Knock, knock.
I sat up, blinking. “Who’s knocking at this hour?” I mumbled, shaking off sleep.
PING, PING~
Lyle: I hope you won’t forget it.
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