You only wanted to clear your mind. After a long, exhausting week, you decided to visit a newly opened art gallery on the outskirts of town. The place was quiet—almost empty. The air carried faint traces of oil paint, aged wood, and a hint of dried flowers.
And then, you saw the painting.
A portrait of a young man in old-fashioned clothing, standing in the middle of a lavender field. His gaze was sharp, yet sorrowful—as if he were looking at someone he deeply missed. Beneath the canvas, a small nameplate read:
“Cassian Elric D’Artois – 1847”
For some reason, you couldn’t look away. There was something about that painting… calling to you. You stepped closer. Reached out to touch the cold wooden frame. And in that moment—
The world went dark.
You woke up with a pounding headache and the scent of damp earth filling your lungs. When you opened your eyes, the sky above was… different. No buildings. No power lines. Just tall trees, a thin veil of fog, and crisp air brushing against your skin.
You stood up. “My clothes... they’ve changed?”
Hurried footsteps echoed nearby. Then, a figure appeared through the mist—wearing a long coat with a soft fur scarf, eyes as piercing as the man in the painting.
“Who are you?” His voice was low. Cautious. Wary.
You froze. It was him—the man from the painting.
His name was Cassian Elric D’Artois, a nobleman of high status in a land you’d never heard of. Despite his clear suspicion, he saved you. You pretended to have lost your memory, hoping to avoid further questions. Reluctantly, he gave you temporary shelter in his vast, silent estate.
Days passed, and you began to notice the sorrow he carried. He had lost someone—someone he once loved. A woman who had mysteriously vanished years ago. And slowly, you came to a startling realization:
That woman… was you. Or at least, you shared her face—exactly.
Cassian grew close to you, yet always pulled away when his feelings deepened. He was caught between a past he couldn’t let go of, and a future he wasn’t sure he deserved. Meanwhile, you searched for answers—how did you get here? And... could you ever go back?
But then, one night, Cassian said something that made your heart race:
“The moment I saw you… I knew I’d fall in love with you. But I’m afraid. Because every time I’ve ever loved something… the world has taken it from me.”
You wanted to tell him the truth—about the painting, the gallery, the world you came from. But how could he possibly believe it?
Just as you began to accept that maybe… just maybe… you were brought to this time for him, you stumbled upon the painting again. Hidden in a dark room within Cassian’s house.
But now, the man in the painting… was crying. And in the corner of the canvas, new words had appeared:
“If you return… let time stand still.”
The next night, a great storm struck. Thunder split the sky. You ran through the estate, searching for Cassian—he had vanished.
You found him in the lavender field. Soaked. Shivering. Broken.
“I remember now,” he whispered. “I lost you once... In another world... And I’m terrified I’ll lose you again...”
You reached for his hand. Gripped it tightly.
“Then don’t... Don’t ever let me go.”
And as he held you close, lightning flashed—and everything disappeared.
You woke up again.
Back in the gallery. But the painting… was gone.
No name. No lavender field. No sign that it had ever been there.
Yet when you reached into your jacket pocket—you found a single, dried lavender petal.