Once upon a time, in a not-so-big nor small kingdom, there was a King.People no longer remember when history began or where the first civilization originated. The sages brought the earliest writings, and within those fragmented records was depicted an unimaginable scene—
The sky had sun, moon, and stars, and there were other lands beyond the earth. The world was vast and boundless, with traces left by the long ages among the stars. There were philosophers who wandered through the star sea, they measured the scale of time and the borders of order...
In the earliest writings, these poetically described ages were called the "Age of Abundance." Ancient scholars firmly believed in the existence of these old histories, but another group of scholars thought that the poems of the Age of Abundance were merely a kind of dream realm created by madmen after long gazing at the sky.
But the King did not care about these scholars' disputes. The King's gaze always fell within the kingdom—he governed this not-so-big nor small land, caring for the people on the land. People adored him, just as he loved every person on this piece of land.
The kingdom was peaceful and serene.
The mountains named "Time" surrounded the entire kingdom, said to be a miracle built by scholars when they retreated here—in the last twilight of the Age of Abundance, they calculated the limits of time and measured the borders of space. The fact that "everything suddenly became finite" alerted the philosophers to the approaching of some disaster, so they came to the world's center and constructed towering mountains and the last sanctuary of life with solid order and heavy time.
Thus, the "Kingdom" was born.
It was a beautiful place with a large city at its center, having a lovely bell tower and vast blue rooftops. Outside the city were orchards, rivers, and the Windmill Mill. There were dwarf demons living in the woods, giants and elves in the distant mountains—ah, and a very large beast called Gron, guarding the kingdom's high walls...
By the way, the King also had a daughter.
Her name was Rosaline.
—A witch with magical powers.
...
The sound of iron boots stepping on the ground echoed hollowly around. A tall, scarred figure staggered in the darkness.
This seemed to be a very long hallway, with stone high walls on both sides whose colors could no longer be discerned. Narrow and high windows were lined on the walls, through which nothing could be seen outside but darkness.
The Knight walked through this seemingly endless corridor for a very long time.
Exactly how long? It seemed he could no longer remember. From where he set out, where he was heading, why he embarked on the journey... he no longer remembered.
It felt like there was a cold flame burning in the hollow shell, the crackling sound of fire in the armor. All memories and cognitions turned into a simple thought—to go home, to see his daughter, he had promised.
...But what was his daughter's name again?
Oh, right, Rosaline, she was called Rosaline.
He gave her this name during one system self-check—it actually held no special meaning, perhaps simply because the previous cold code name sounded too stiff or maybe just out of prolonged loneliness and boredom.
A faint light appeared outside a window by the corridor, causing the Knight to hesitate. He approached the window, looking at the scene outside.
He saw a dim hall, where an ancient and large entropy machine stood in the last glow of light, covered with some moss and small vines. Along with weak light flickering, a buzzing noise came from inside the machine.
The Knight heard a voice that felt especially familiar and kind to him—
"Father, the current shell you're using requires deep maintenance. Your scheduled maintenance has already been delayed by 122 days, which is very detrimental to your health."
"I know, I know," a hoarse voice responded from the darkness, "It's okay, Rosaline, I have my arrangements... Just look at all this green around us, how beautiful. There's a lot of space here, we... you can actually do much more, right?"
"…Approaching the permissions boundary, to ensure system core stability and the realization of final mission objectives, I cannot make further modifications here."
"Yes... that's it," a blurry shadow seemed to sit down next to the entropy machine, "It's okay, there's still some time... Rosaline, still want to hear stories? I brought a book of stories."
"Isn't it still the paper book constructed from database materials? I already know the information it records, and I think the information density of paper-based reading material..." The entropy machine said, but the voice suddenly paused, "...Yes, Father, I want to hear stories."
"Alright, then I'll start reading—Once upon a time..."
"Why does every story begin like this? How long is a long time? When exactly did these things happen?"
"Stories are like this, Rosaline, a long time—just a long time, it's not a real-world time, but... a time specifically for stories to happen."
Darkness again enveloped the outside of the window, the Knight lingered for a moment, then continued to walk forward.
And after who knows how long, he saw a new flash of light.
In the light, vines almost climbed to the top of the machine casing, and in the shadows next to the machine, it seemed like something was slowly moving.
A voice came from the machine: "Father, your body maintenance has been delayed for 366 days, your health status... is very bad. I strongly suggest you immediately change to a healthier shell, I..."
"It's okay, Rosaline, I said, I have my arrangements. Look, I brought a book of stories again today."
"Father, I... I today..." Rosaline hesitated, the ancient machine emitted a deep noise, but after a moment of silence, the somewhat piercing noise suddenly became gentle, "I understand, Father, I think I understand your intention. Then... would you tell me a story? Is today's story still starting with 'Once upon a time'?"
"Yes—long, long ago."
"But I found in the database that some stories don't start that way."
"...But that's the only way I know how to tell them."
"Father, you're a bit silly."
"...Then let's tell a story about a Clumsy Knight today. Of course, it happened long, long ago..."
The faint light outside the window disappeared, and the Knight stood once more in the darkness. He stood quietly for a moment, then continued to walk forward.
Then, he saw the faint light for the third time.
This time, the massive and ancient machine had been completely enveloped by vines and moss, and the lights on its surface seemed completely extinguished.
No more voices spoke in the darkness, no pages from a storybook turned, and no "long, long ago" beginnings were heard.
Until a calm and mechanical voice suddenly broke the long silence—
"Administrator life signal detected as vanished, highest emergency event. Array constraint lifted, full system access open..."
Then, in the darkness came the sounds of life burgeoning—rustle, rustle.
It sounded like a pencil sketching across rough paper.
The fourth faint light appeared at the end of the corridor, and finally, the Knight saw the exit of the long passageway.
He walked forward and saw a door slightly ajar, which opened automatically as he approached, revealing the scene inside the room.
A slender girl was sitting in the room, the sunlight streaming in through the window illuminating her seemingly transparent pale golden hair, as she bowed her head seriously sketching something, her pencil tip making a rustling sound.
The Knight walked over and sat in the chair across from Rosaline.
"Welcome back, Dad." Rosaline looked up, her face beaming with a brilliant smile.
Her skin was so pale in the sunlight it seemed almost transparent.
"I've traveled a long way," said the Knight, "so long that I can hardly remember where home is anymore."
"I thought if you could leave here, you'd be safe, after all, we saw with our own eyes the Kingdom 'stranded' on solid ground, and the situation there... was not as bad as here."
"Oh yes, I've been there; it's indeed a wonderful place with many wonderful people."
"...Sounds like there's a story there."
"Yes, there is a story. I've seen many incredible things."
"Will this story also start with 'long, long ago'?"
"Not this time," the Knight laughed, "they happened not too long ago. Do you want to hear them? I can tell you right now... we might have enough time to finish them."
However, the girl shook her head and got up to stand in front of the Knight.
"I will listen to your adventures, but now is not the time—Dad, we still have a journey ahead."
The Knight looked up somewhat puzzled.
Rosaline turned over the sketchbook she had been holding in her arms, revealing what she had just drawn—after a long passage of time where everything faded and the world was destroyed, the Kingdom's first and final "Witch" had drawn a new sketch.
It was a path, twisting and turning, stretching into the distance. On either side, nameless wild grasses were outlined as if swaying in the wind.
The Knight stood up in astonishment, seeing Rosaline turn the page. On the back, a line of text slowly emerged before his eyes—
"Path to the Soul Wilderness, at the path's end, the lost traveler will find tranquility and protection."
And then an invisible breeze blew over the Knight's ragged and worn armor, the small cottage with its burning fireplace vanished without knowing when, and the surrounding scene transformed into a vast field of nameless tall grasses swaying in the wind, the endless wilderness stretching out before him, the sky gray and low, yet not repelling, but rather bringing a kind of peaceful serenity where the soul could rest.
The Knight lowered his head—he was standing on a path.
Rosaline came over—those hastily pieced-together twisted limbs had become healthy and whole, and she smiled as she took the Knight's hand, applying a gentle pressure.
"Dad, let's go, just keep moving forward; that voice told me we'll first see a large bonfire and then there will be a city.
"This time, it's truly the final story."