Silas found himself in Don Alfonse's workshop, although he didn't remember how he had arrived there. The place was cleaner and tidier than usual, but at the same time, it was deeply strange. The contours of the furniture lacked clear definition, as if blurring at the edges. The color of the wall fluctuated before his eyes, oscillating between green and blue without deciding on either. Looking at his own hands, he saw himself thinner, but also taller, as if he inhabited a body that wasn't entirely his own.

  —Hello, boy. Don't be scared —said a kind voice.

  In front of him was a man wearing a molder's apron, similar to the one Don Alfonse used, but his face was strangely familiar. ?I'm sure I've seen him somewhere?, thought Silas. ?He's not a relative of Don Alfonse, they don't look alike at all, but his face... inspires confidence in me?.

  —As you may have already noticed, this is Don Alfonse's workshop. I wanted us to be in a place known to both of us. And no, I am not his relative —said the stranger, as if reading his thoughts.

  —How did you know that? —asked Silas, alarmed.

  —Your thoughts resonate throughout the workshop, because this place is your mind. My name is Oliver. It's the name I'll use for now to make this conversation easier for you —explained the man in the apron—. It's not the first time you've talked with your mind, but it might be the last in quite some time.

  A whirlwind of doubts assaulted Silas, and Oliver seemed to perceive them instantly.

  —Come, I want to show you something.

  Oliver guided him toward a table where a complex wooden model stood, full of rails, pulleys, ropes, and tubes.

  —I know you already understand that you have been given another chance, the chance to live a new life —said Oliver as he picked up a metal marble about two centimeters in diameter—. Let's say this marble is you.

  He placed the marble on a rail and let it go. It began an intricate descent, hitting other marbles and pieces of wood that, in turn, activated new parts, clearing the path for the original marble to continue its journey.

  —All those rails, woods, and ropes are time and destiny —explained Oliver—. Destiny is all the events—those that happened, happen, and will happen—that make your marble follow its path to end up in a predefined place.

  Just as he finished the sentence, Silas's marble shot out and broke a glass bottle that was at the end of the circuit.

  —Excuse me, can you move that bottle somewhere else? —asked Oliver. With a snap of his fingers, the entire circuit returned to its initial state.

  Silas placed the bottle at another end of the table. Oliver took the marble and let it roll again. This time, the marble took a slightly different direction in a tube, shot out to the side, and knocked over a book that fell precisely on the bottle, shattering it.

  —You might think it's a coincidence, but it's not. You could move the bottle ten, a hundred, a thousand times, and it would keep breaking —assured Oliver.

  —And if the rails and tubes change? It wouldn't be the same destiny anymore, would it? —retorted Silas, altering several pieces of the circuit.

  Oliver nodded slightly and let the marble go again. It veered to another side, bounced, and shot out in Silas's direction. Frightened, he took a step back, bumping into the table where he had put the bottle. The table wobbled and the bottle fell to the floor, breaking once more.

  —Good idea, but it doesn't work either. Because the bottle represents an event that, according to destiny, has to happen. An event that will change you for life —said Oliver with a tinge of sadness—. And destiny doesn't like to be contradicted. It will do everything possible to return things to their natural course.

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  —So... am I condemned to this destiny? —asked Silas with desperation.

  —That's what I thought, but I arrived at a possible solution. Destiny happens because it already happened, because it was written. You knew the bottle was going to break and did everything possible to avoid it. But, what if... —Oliver paused—...what if we change the environment where the events occur?

  With a snap of his fingers, the workshop flooded with water up to a meter high. He released the marble again. It followed its circuit, fell into the water, and, slowed by the liquid's resistance, collided with the bottle, cracking it completely but without breaking it. It retained its shape.

  —If we change the rules of the game, we can alter the repercussions —said Oliver, and with another snap, the bottle underwater reassembled itself. He tossed the marble to Silas—. But that is still not enough. Metal is still harder than glass. What if we also alter the rules of the objects?

  Another snap. Silas felt the marble in his hand become noticeably lighter.

  —Go on, do it now —Oliver encouraged him.

  Silas dropped the marble. It traveled the circuit at a lower speed, fell into the water, and the impact on the bottle barely left a small notch, almost imperceptible.

  —So, tell me what I have to do —said Silas, with a new spark of hope in his voice.

  —You have to change the conditions and rules of the world where events occur. You must ensure that all factions can coexist in harmony. The laws that people assume are immovable must be rewritten. You have already started to do it; what you did in the race against Zael and in the duel against Miguel, for example, contributed greatly to the cause.

  Oliver's expression turned serious.

  —But the force of destiny keeps trying to correct those changes, guiding itself by what is already established. And to deceive it, what is already written must be erased. That's why I said we wouldn't see each other for a long time. To change what is established in you, you must forget and lighten the weight of your destiny. This force has been guiding itself by your memories of the life you already had. Every time you access them, destiny nourishes itself and seeks to correct the anomaly. Our memories are a double-edged sword.

  He paused, sighing.

  —We will seal most of the memories of our previous life until it is safe for you to know them. The ones you have already gained will stay, because destiny already played its cards against them. But to change your future and protect those you love, your goal must be to change this corrupt kingdom.

  —Oliver, why are you telling me this just now? —asked Silas.

  —It was a fortunate accident. At this very moment, you are unconscious somewhere, and someone is trying to erase the memories of your life after the tragedy. That has created a fissure, an opportunity to alter the conditions of destiny. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you who or why, as it could ruin this possibility. You will have to discover it for yourself —said Oliver, with a mixture of sadness and hope—. You will wake up shortly. I wish you the best. And remember, having fun and being happy are also powerful weapons that change destiny.

  In the same workshop, now without Silas, Oliver addressed a dark figure covered in scars who had remained in the shadows.

  —You didn't even tell him your real name. Did nothing better occur to you than the old man's surname? —said the dark being.

  —You know that, from now on, the less he knows, the better. Anything so that she doesn't die and is happy —responded Oliver.

  —To lose. If I had known this before, I would have done things differently with the boy... and with the others —said the dark being.

  —Imbecile! —shouted Oliver, his voice charged with anger—. Did you think we wouldn't realize what you did to that "Son of Zephyr"? Do you know what that means now?

  —Of course I know! —roared the dark being, his black aura trembling not with rage, but with weeping—. That's why I agreed to be erased! I accept my destiny. I will become just a weapon. Without memories, without aspirations, without grudges. Something that destiny cannot read.

  The shadowy figure began to fade, and the trail it left seeped out through the workshop door.

  —See you —said Oliver, sighing—. I suppose I'll have to do the calculations for when that damn imbecile's memories awaken in that subject. By then, Silas should have already changed enough to avoid destiny's gravitational pull. It's strange to curse myself, but I also understand it. Destiny took our everything from us. I will enjoy these memories while I still can.

  The workshop door opened and a customer entered.

  —Hello, I need to appraise some trinkets. By the way, where is Alfonse? I haven't seen him.

  —He's in the back, working on something important —responded Oliver.

  The lady conspicuously pointed to her ring finger, simulating a wedding ring.

  —Stop doing that, ma'am —said Oliver, blushing. He handed her a paper—. Here is the quote for the services.

  The lady rested her eyes on the stamp at the bottom of the paper and read it aloud.

  —So you're changing your name, huh? It sounds good: "Silas Baum Oliven".

  In a bed at the Jared I Academy, Silas woke up surrounded by Devotees. He said he didn't remember anything since [walking], only that he was walking and then woke up in this bed.

  —Young cadet —a legionary told him—, we need you to try to channel Ether.

  Silas initiated his usual mental process. But something was missing. He tried again, searching for his anchor, the core of his power.

  It wasn't there.

  His ability to channel Cognis had vanished.