The days that followed felt like a blur. Ronan's mind was clouded, his thoughts endlessly revolving around the discovery of his true name—Velrion. It had lingered in his consciousness, like an itch he couldn't scratch, a word that had been buried deep within him, waiting to be found. Each time he thought about it, his heart raced, a strange sense of both fear and excitement rushing through his veins.
He had tried to go about his usual routine. The world outside his apartment seemed normal—too normal. The people, the sounds of the city, the faint hum of car engines in the distance; everything was exactly as it had always been. But nothing felt the same anymore. The mundane had become unsettling, and the familiar streets, the familiar faces, felt like nothing more than a mask hiding the truth from him.
Ronan found himself drawn back to the book—the one that had come with the apartment. Its leather cover now seemed to pulse with some kind of energy, like it was alive, like it was waiting for him to discover something. He had read the cryptic words over and over, but they still made no sense. That single phrase—the one that spoke of the true name being the key to the Borrowed—haunted him.
"The world remembers, even when the soul forgets."
But now, in the silence of his apartment, he couldn't ignore it any longer. He had to know more. He had to understand why he, of all people, had been chosen. Was he truly just an ordinary person—Ronan Winter—who had stumbled into something beyond his control? Or was his true identity something more?
With a deep breath, Ronan stood up from his desk. The decision had been made. He couldn't keep running from the truth, couldn't keep pretending that this was just some strange, fleeting dream. No. It was time to face whatever lay beyond the veil of reality.
He didn't know what he was looking for. A way back? Answers? All he knew was that the book might hold the key to unlocking everything. He could feel it. Every fiber of his being screamed that he needed to follow this path. It wasn't just about his name; it was about his purpose.
Ronan packed a small bag, threw on his jacket, and grabbed the book. His apartment felt even smaller now, the walls pressing in on him. As he stepped out into the cold, gray morning, the weight of the world—both the one he knew and the one he had left behind—seemed to settle on his shoulders.
He wasn't sure where he was going. The old man's words echoed in his mind, "You're here for a reason." But what reason? And who was he supposed to be in this world? Was he destined for something greater than this life he had known?
He walked for hours, his mind spiraling. The streets seemed endless, the city stretching out before him in all directions. He passed the familiar corners, the same faces, but everything felt distant, like he was walking through a dream. His body moved on autopilot, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He wasn't sure if he was looking for an answer, or if he was just avoiding facing the truth.
Finally, he ended up in a part of the city he had never been before. It was quieter here—more abandoned. The buildings were old, their facades weathered and cracked. He didn't remember ever seeing this neighborhood, but something about it felt... familiar. Like he had been here before.
Ronan walked through the empty streets, the sound of his boots echoing off the buildings. As he turned a corner, he saw a small shop. The sign outside was faded, but the name was still legible: The Forgotten Path. The door was slightly ajar, as if inviting him in.
He hesitated. Something about the place felt... right. Maybe this was the answer he had been looking for. Maybe this was where he would find the truth.
Without thinking, Ronan pushed open the door. Inside, the air was thick with dust, and the shelves were lined with strange artifacts, old books, and trinkets. The room smelled faintly of incense, and the dim light from a single hanging lamp cast long shadows on the walls.
Behind the counter stood an old woman, her eyes sharp and knowing, despite the wrinkles that lined her face. She was hunched over, but there was an air of quiet strength about her, as if she had seen and understood things that most people could never fathom.
"Ah," she said, her voice raspy yet warm. "I've been waiting for you."
Ronan froze, his heart skipping a beat. How did she know?
The woman smiled, as though reading his thoughts. "It's not the first time this has happened," she said softly. "You've been chosen. But you already knew that, didn't you?"
Ronan opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His mind was racing. How did she know? How could she know?
"Your true name," the woman continued, "is Velrion. And that name holds power. You are not just anyone in this world, Ronan Winter. You are the Borrowed—the one who has come to save this world from its greatest threat."
She paused, letting the words sink in. Ronan felt his heart race. The woman was speaking as if she knew everything—everything about him, about the world, and about the fate he had yet to embrace.
"The name Velrion carries with it a legacy," she said, her voice steady. "A legacy that spans across worlds. The Borrowed have been summoned before, and they will be summoned again. But only one can carry the weight of that name."
Ronan's mind swirled. Velrion. The name that had been a mystery. The name that had been buried in his soul, now brought to the surface.
The woman gestured for him to sit. "The path you are on is not an easy one. But it is yours to walk. You must understand, though, that the world you come from and the world you have entered are connected. You are the bridge, Ronan Winter, between two worlds. And your true name is the key to unlocking the power that lies dormant within you."
Ronan sank into the chair, the weight of her words pressing down on him. His heart pounded in his chest. Could it be true? Was he really the one destined to save this world? Was he really Velrion, the Borrowed?
He didn't know yet. But he had no choice but to find out.
"I don't know if I can do this," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.
The old woman's eyes softened. "No one ever knows. But that doesn't stop them from trying."
As Ronan stood to leave, a strange sense of calm washed over him. For the first time in days, he felt like he was on the right path. The world had not just chosen him; it had given him a chance. A chance to discover the truth, to understand his purpose, and to embrace the name Velrion.
And with that realization, a new chapter of his journey had begun.