Chapter 17: Tea, Ink, and the Weight of Stillness
The world outside Abid's window seemed to be wrapped in quiet fog. A drizzle had rolled in during the early hours of the morning, softening the usual city clamor into something more distant and dreamlike. From his fourth-floor flat, he could hear the muffled honking of a rickshaw bell and the soft slosh of bicycle tires on wet pavement.
Inside, his apartment was a cocoon of gentle warmth. The electric kettle clicked off just as he finished preparing his workspace. A fresh sheet on the drawing tablet. Pencils sharpened. The smell of toasted biscuits rising from a paper packet.
He poured himself a cup of tea and set it beside his sketchbook. Then, he simply sat and stared at the page.
Not drawing. Not planning.
Just breathing.
[System Notification: "Quiet Mind" passive activated. Stress levels decreased by 12%. Recommended activity: Gentle creative exercise.]
He chuckled softly at the system's gentle nudge. There were times when its interjections felt almost human. Like a soft-spoken companion, nudging him forward without pushing too hard.
He leaned back in his chair and turned toward the window. The rain had picked up slightly, drawing tiny trails down the glass. The world outside looked like a watercolor still drying.
"I wonder if it rains in the other world," he murmured.
He hadn't thought much about the weather in the realm beyond. The bookseller he connected with—the one in Eldenborough—had never described it. But in his mind, he imagined it as a place with endless skies and windswept fields, where stories clung to the mist like secrets.
Taking a small bite of biscuit, Abid reached for his stylus. His hand moved slowly at first, tracing soft outlines of a character—a girl in a raincloak, holding a lantern in the fog. She wasn't from any particular story he'd started, just someone who had wandered into his mind. She had a cat at her side and shoes slightly too big for her feet.
A message pinged across his tablet screen.
[Realm Transmission Received: Private Message from Book Nook Proprietor]
He tapped to open it.
[Dear Artist Abid,
Thank you for sending "The Wind from Between Realms." The book sold out faster than any I've carried before. Several readers returned the next day, asking if you had more like it. One young man—barely older than a pageboy—said he'd been crying at the part where the wind carried the talisman away. He says it helped him understand why his brother left for the sea.
We don't always have the right words here, but somehow, your pages speak them.
Please send more. Even if they're quiet stories. Especially if they are.]
Abid reread the message twice, eyes lingering on the phrase: "especially if they are." It echoed within him like a soft chime.
[System Notification: "Reader Resonance" achieved. Bonus +10 Insight Points. New perk unlocked: "Ink Whisper" – Minor inspiration boost when drawing emotional scenes.]
He set down the stylus and reached for his teacup, letting the steam warm his fingertips. He hadn't realized how cold they were.
More than fame or fortune, this—this connection—was what he had always longed for. To create something that reached across unseen distances and touched someone's heart, even for a moment.
He opened a new file.
Title: Lantern Girl and the Forgotten Cat
Genre: Gentle Fantasy
Synopsis: A young girl searches through a fog-covered world, looking for stories that were lost in silence.
He smiled to himself. It wasn't fully formed yet. But it didn't have to be.
The rain continued.
*
By afternoon, the downpour had softened to a mist. Abid slipped on a light jacket and ventured out, carrying a cloth tote bag. His legs needed movement, and his thoughts felt clearer when surrounded by motion.
He stopped at a roadside tea stall, a familiar place with cracked plastic stools and steaming metal kettles. The chai vendor, a quiet man with sunburned skin and careful eyes, greeted him with a nod.
"Same as always?"
Abid nodded. "Extra ginger, please."
He sipped slowly, notebook on his lap. On the opposite side of the street, a stray cat sat beneath a canopy, its fur damp and wild. It stared at him like it recognized something in his stillness.
He made a quick sketch of it in his book.
After tea, he wandered through the old book bazaar, where sellers displayed worn novels and yellowed textbooks under blue tarps. He wasn't looking for anything in particular, just letting the sights and textures soak into him. A child sat on the corner flipping through a torn Tintin comic, eyes wide with wonder.
It made Abid smile.
*
Back home, he sank into his chair once more. He uploaded a new batch of manga to the system's "Cross-Realm Distribution" tab.
[Upload Confirmed:
1. "Lantern Girl and the Forgotten Cat" – Chapter 1
2. "Moments in the Rain" – Short story
3. "Silent Forest Sketchbook" – Illustration Collection (Partial)]
[System Notification: Distribution underway. Estimated exposure: 3 bookstores, 1 private collector.]
[Reward Pending: Awaiting first reader resonance.]
He closed the tab and returned to his window.
The rain had stopped.
For a moment, the air seemed to shimmer—not with light, but with potential.
He didn't need crowds or applause.
He had stories.
He had pages.
And somewhere, someone was listening.
*
That night, he sat with a candle again. No digital light. Just flame and silence.
He didn't draw. He didn't write.
He just sat, breathing in the quiet.
[System Passive: "Stillness of the Page" activated. Future inspiration reserves increased.]
Tomorrow, he would return to his tablet. To ink, to lines, to dialogue bubbles and pacing. But tonight was for stillness.
The kind of stillness that stories grew from.
The kind that reminded him—he wasn't alone anymore.