Novels by Yorifiel

Flure’s POV: The colors I see in my eyes are strange. Spheres of various colors floated around, with cogs and rings shaping it into a watch-like structure. I could tell the time of people merely by gazing at the colors that everyone emits in this unique eye that I have. I've watched many people's time pass and disappear, just to be replaced by a door of a different hue and structure. I cursed my eyes because even if they could see the colors and the remaining time of everyone, it wasn't useful and only distracted me from the world. The doors of the dead, which come out of nowhere, have an eye-catching green and black radiance. Opening it leads to another world, the person's life etched on the door. My eyes aren't beneficial. It became the foundation of shame and dread I tried so hard to conceal it under my cheerful smile and quips. Whenever I see a clock on a person's haze that emanates a brilliant glow, I can sense the end of their time, revealing a stopwatch. I tried to catch it,

Amid life's equation, death blooms, and music and illumination emanate from the gentle glow that encompasses everyone and cherishes them all. A sun as pale as the souls of everyone hides in the corner, embracing everyone at the tower's entrance. Turning around, I saw kids my age eagerly making their way up to the tower, aspirations and dreams stoked by the blaze of desire. “Self conquers the first and of victory.” was engraved over the entryway of the tower. Symbols of God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit fuel the tower's surroundings. Recognition of the God revered by the tower's creator. A profound line of teaching that adorns the tower with the creator's immense pleasure and joy, signifying his love for his God. Then, I noticed two colossal rings encircling outside the boundary of this world. Nothing within my line of sight allowed a clear view of the distant structures where this tower was constructed; only the children walking towards the entrance and the sand they tread upon we

“Ah. Your future is yet to be determined, slowly fiddling amassed of different consciousness.” He slowly raised his right arm and swayed it around. “You can hear it—the voices of the world. Slowly drawing you in the far shore. Leering fear. Captivating.” The winds blew as fast as the bird's flight. It only lasted for about a second, as if teasing you with its cold and hapless emotion. As I listened to Abelard’s talk, my chest began to beat a little bit faster. “You’re still a child. Although in mind. Your soul is pure, filled with endless desire, but filled with storm—a strong will to live and be born anew.” “What do you mean by that?” I asked. “It means that you’re a soul filled with avarice. You’re soul is white as pure but tainted with avarice. That’s what I’ll say to you.” He began to change his foresight. The world began to shape and change as if he was altering it. “Ah. You’re a lost cause of humanity living amongst ye humans. How’d you wandered here, I wonder.” Abelard sai

→ The story revolves around the wondrous epiphany of a tower. Life, flourishing. Living is detrimental. Souls, unbothered. Killing was a wonder. Death is attrition. → On the contrary. The tower expresses its gratitude towards you as the person who lifted the heights of impertinence. How truly satisfying. Humans would be filled with sorrow and revulsion from the serpentine consciousness of human life to the place called “dreams.” →The precipitous pathway along the twisted vision of scrumptious desire for asceticism on top of the tower. Ascending a top to receive the holy retribution of everlasting gaiety, searching for something, creating something, and dying for nothing. ***** My body drifts away to the field of white egret flowers, slowly drifting to a door where the sun radiates a much brighter light. Ahh…It’s not a place filled with darkness. Memoirs of the past constantly hunt me among the path of emptiness, which has changed to a light that fills that void—caressing my head

Droplets of water on the shower head continue to fall in a second interval. It resounded between the empty monochromatic walls of the bathroom, creating a rhythmic sound. A melodic hymn that resonated in the depths of my heart as if it was part of my bow. Time is a toxic trait that encourages me to turn my eyes to the cycle of life. A toxic devolve of imaginary people playing along in your head as you indulge in the hobby you picked up. It’s probably a bad idea to focus on oneself and forget the others as you go on your journey without thinking of your friends. We couldn’t live on our own since no man is said to be an island. Friends is like a sweet orange. It tastes great when you pick it up at the right time. You’ll know that it's good when the scent can be smelled even without peeling it. But if we decide to forget them, they’ll start to rot and lose their patience and will choose to cut out all ties. Thankfully, my friends aren’t like that, and I’m glad to have them. Haah… Rela

Amidst all the things that happened in the past months, nothing has changed, even a tiny change in the world. The world is still a monochromatic place that we call on as life. Life is flourishing with new faces of people living in this world. Is that their persona? Or was it their faces? I’m still uncomfortable to see the faces of different people living in this world. Seclusion… I’ve probably done it as we’ve got back. I'm playing the violin. An instrument that I found inside a case filled with normal papers and some other crumpled papers tainted with a black and indecipherable letter. Flure was staring at me as I played the notes the same way as it was written. {Hello, since this is the beginning of a new story, my life purpose isn’t complete yet. There was something that I was supposed to do last month, but I decided not to do it since I’m currently preoccupied with the violin. I decided to play this instrument to learn more about the original me. I want to know how amazing I was.