The Garden Outside Time

"Some things aren't meant to be remembered…Some are meant to be planted."—Inscription on the bench beneath the Riftstone Tree

There was a place no map could name.A garden that didn't grow in soil, but in silence.It sat between seconds—between heartbeats—Where time forgot to tick, and stars paused to listen.

This was the Garden Outside Time.

Only those who had truly lost everything and still chosen to love could find it.Only those who understood that memory was a gift—not a chain.

The garden was vast.

Floating platforms of stone drifted lazily through violet skies. The ground shimmered with blossoms that changed color depending on who walked near. Trees bore fruit shaped like dreams. The wind smelled of laughter once heard in forgotten timelines.

Here, Kael and Aeris had built something… quiet.

A home not of grandeur, but of grace.

A cottage with walls made of storywood—timber carved from tales that were never told. Inside: shelves of books that wrote themselves anew each morning. A kettle that remembered how you liked your tea—even if you forgot.

And outside, a swing hung between two starlit trees.

On this day, Kael sat on that swing, gently rocking. A journal rested in his hands—the pages were blank. Not from neglect.

But from anticipation.

Aeris walked barefoot through the dew-gathered grass, humming a melody born in a life that never happened… but could.

She carried a bundle wrapped in a sky-blue shawl.

A child.

Their child.

Not born of prophecy or paradox, but from peace.

"Do you think they'll ask?" Aeris whispered.

Kael smiled, brushing a soft curl from the baby's brow. "About us? Or about what came before?"

"Both."

He nodded. "One day."

Aeris sat beside him, and together they looked out over the garden.

The Riftstone Tree stood tall in the center of the horizon, blooming slowly. Petals drifted into the air, catching the light like glass feathers. Every time one fell, a new timeline was born somewhere.

But this garden?This garden was theirs.

They would tell their child stories, one day.

Of Veyra, who tried to control time to save it.Of Null, who was pain given shape.Of Vaelen, who forgot that freedom needs faith.Of the Crimson Warden—Aeris herself—and the man who chose love over fear.Of the day the stars asked a question.And they dared to answer with hope.

The wind rustled, and Kael finally wrote a line in his journal.

"This time… we chose the ending."

Aeris smiled, cradling their child.

"Then let's begin a new story."

Somewhere, beyond the garden—time resumed.But in the space between moments, the echoes whispered:

Not every ending is goodbye.Some are just the first line of the next tale.