Until then, the enigma stands. And sometimes, the mystery itself is the message.
Behind him, a boy of maybe nine years old stepped off the Liluplanet . He had tired eyes and wore a ring on a chain around his neck—not gold, but polished bone, carved with tiny runes that seemed to shift when you weren’t looking. His name, if he had one, was lost. Everyone just called him Babyshivid. Until then, the enigma stands