Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time-Chapter 429 Shadows That Walk a New Road — The Town of Ravenhull and Traces of the Past

The morning at the port of Vernesya didn't feel like a farewell. The sea shimmered, and the mist had not yet risen. A small boat sailed slowly northward, carrying two passengers known by only a few but longed for by a world that had yet to fully recognize them.

Amid the waves and gentle winds, a faint sound occasionally drifted through the air, like a whisper from the spirits that may dwell in the depths of the sea, reminding them that this journey was not merely physical, but laden with spiritual significance. The wind brought the scent of salt and mystery, shrouding all sadness and replacing it with an endless feeling, as if the destination was not just a place, but a forgotten memory sent through time.

Joanna sat at the stern of the boat, her wings concealed beneath a long coat. Rui stood on the left side of the boat, gazing at the horizon.

"We're really leaving this peaceful place," she said softly.

Joanna responded without turning her head.

"We never leave peace. We carry it with us."

As if absorbing those words, the wind gently encircled them, delivering the ancient promises of another world. In the sky, gray clouds drifted like a black-and-white image foretelling an untold story, heightening the tension in the air.

Four days later, the boat arrived at an ancient walled city called Ravenhull.

Perched on a high cliff, the city is constructed from black stone adorned with creeping vines, resembling a fortress protecting a world that has nearly forgotten the outside. The pointed rooftops of aged iron and stained glass embellish the city skyline, reflecting the permanent orange glow of dusk in the northern sky. Amidst the historic buildings that stand proudly, shadows of crows flit by, as if they bear silent witness to the passage of time and the secrets buried within every corner.

The architecture evokes a classical world intended but never completed by its creators: windows too high, doors too narrow, and winding corridors seem to hinder anyone from understanding the way. Each step on the cobblestone feels heavy, as if the ground is whispering the echoes of generations long past, enticing anyone daring enough to listen to the ghosts of history.

Ravenhull feels like a city that defies time. Its inhabitants speak slowly, seldom mention names, and gaze at every visitor with a look that is not suspicion—but rather a silent knowing. The whispering wind carries a mystical aroma from its rich history, honoring each stone and wall as if they hold deeper knowledge than meets the eye. Each corner reveals a charm that is both startling and frightening, creating an atmosphere that is difficult to explain, like a dream filled with riddles and secrets shimmering beneath.

The market is nestled beneath a stone bridge that juts out over the ravine, where the scents of caramel bread and warming winter leaves fill the air. In the center of the square, a robed woman holding an hourglass stands atop a frozen fountain. Each drop of dew that falls from the statue seems like tears from souls caught between the real world and another, striving to unveil secrets with every droplet waiting for attention.

Joanna murmurs:

"This place... holds secrets."

Rui nods.

"And we seem to have come here... not to hide, but to be remembered."

As they strolled down the main street of the city known as Via Numina, their steps were interrupted by an old man in dark clothing, his glasses cracked with one lens missing. His face was etched with deep lines, as if each wrinkle told a perplexing tale of history, and his voice carried the weight of stories long untold.

His eyes trembled as they fixed on Joanna.

"Golden Witch...?"

Joanna halted in her tracks.

"Who are you?"

"You... resemble someone... someone from a past that should have been consumed by time..."

Rui stepped forward, but the man turned to her and instantly paled.

"And you... I have seen your shadow in the Arkanum ritual. You should... not be here."

"You should never have met..."

Joanna held her breath.

"You know us?"

"I... was a former spiral observer under the Khaya Order. My name is... Deren Vilnius."

The gentle sound of water from the mosaic garden seemed to call out softly, adding a magical touch to their meeting. A thin fog swirled around the ancient trees, creating creeping shadows, as if the forgotten souls within were watching this conversation with hidden curiosity. In the distance, the gray walls of the city appeared to whisper, recounting stories buried in the ashes of history.

They sat together in an old tea house, facing the mosaic garden outside the small memory-keeper temple.

Deren shared something shocking:

Deren revealed something surprising: "The names Joanna and Rui... have never been recorded in the timeline of the Alpha world. Yet for years, we have received fragments of dreams—dreams of two souls walking between love and curse, intertwining, creating an uncertainty that is hard to uncover."

Rui fell silent.

Joanna gazed into her reflection in the teacup, submerged in a blend of beauty and darkness. The silence of the night filled the space, as if guarded by nocturnal creatures, creating a sense that they were no longer alone. In the darkness, every corner of the room appeared deeper and more mysterious, as though secrets waited to be revealed, planting their imaginations with infinite possibilities.

"So... this place, Ravenhull?"

Deren nodded.

"This is the last city that still holds the unapproved memories."

"Here, the world listens... but does not write. A fitting place for you... if you do not want the world, in its injustice and tyranny, to choose for you in unwelcome ways."

As Deren spoke these words, the candlelight flickered gently, as if responding to the statement. The old brick walls around them held countless stories, each crack seeming to depict an uncountable passage of time, connecting them to history. A cold wind whispered through the gaps, carrying the scent of damp earth and mysteries of the past, further intensifying the haunting aura enveloping the city, as if this meeting was already destined.

That night, at a small inn by the eastern gate, Joanna stood on the balcony, gazing at the lights of Ravenhull that flickered like nearly extinguished memories. Below her, narrow streets twisted through the shadows, filled with ancient stones that seemed to tell forgotten tales. The tall buildings, with their dark windows and rusted gates, appeared to whisper to one another, sharing secrets that could only be understood by those brave enough to navigate the labyrinth of the night.

Rui approached, carrying two cups of cinnamon-spiced drinks. The aroma of the spices enveloped the night air, providing a warm touch against the chill of the gentle breeze. She stood next to Joanna, looking toward the fog-enshrouded city, as if framing a snippet of life from an unwritten novel, brimming with hopes and fears about what was to come. "Do you think... if we stay here, will the world forget us, and will our thoughts fade away?" Joanna asked in a barely audible voice, as though worried her words would be whisked away by the cold wind.

Joanna offered a faint smile. "If that's the case... then I will carve you into the hardest stone in this city," she said, glancing towards the towering spire, its dark shadow looming like an eternal sentinel of the night. "And if not... then we will keep moving forward." With each word, there seemed to be a deeper burden, much like a river obstructed, flowing slowly through the cracks of time. In the distance, the tower bell tolled, its sound reverberating into the corners of the night, adding to the profound sense of solitude.

Suddenly, footsteps approached from the back alley—too slow for an ordinary merchant. Cautiously, Joanna turned her gaze toward the sound, feeling a tension gradually seep into the atmosphere. It was far too calm... to be considered safe. Faint shadows began to emerge through the mist, mysterious silhouettes that seemed to carry doubt and an unwelcome presence. Like lost traces, they resembled loneliness walking the city streets, waiting to be discovered in the impending darkness.