Today I woke up with a sense of triumph I hadn't felt in a very long time. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, the weight that used to crush my chest had vanished.
Sitting up in bed, I stretched my muscles and took a deep breath. I walked to the door, sensing that something inside me had changed. There was no fear anymore. No more doubt. Only confidence in my stride, truth in my gestures. The emotional garbage that once controlled me no longer dictated my steps. Neither did fear.
I understood that I had the right to exist, regardless of my mistakes, bad decisions, or circumstances. Every part of me—with its emotions and desires—was valid, and that acceptance gave me a freedom I had never felt before. I also realized that, although I had felt alone for a long time, now I knew that as long as I stayed with myself, I would never be alone again.
Turning the handle, I opened the door with the intention of finding the answer that had been waiting for me… I don't know what lies beyond the dark forest, but I'm ready. I'm no longer just the servant waiting for orders or following an uncertain path. I am something more. I am someone else. I have transformed, and even though the future is unwritten, for the first time, I am not afraid to face it.
And even though I don't know what's next, I know I'm ready to discover it—with eyes wide open and heart steady.
Stepping out of the house was the first step into the unknown. I headed for the fields in search of one of the paradise guardians: a majestic Liger, whose imposing figure stood out in the meadow. His striped white fur gleamed under the light as he rested with a calmness that contrasted with his evident power.
"Hi there!" I said with a smile, approaching him carefully. "How are you?"
The Liger slowly lifted his head. His piercing eyes met mine. There was ancient wisdom in them, as if he had been watching the world from that very spot for centuries. And even though his presence was imposing, I felt at peace, knowing that this encounter was part of the path I had chosen.
But the Liger didn't respond. He simply observed me in silence, with those eyes full of old, impenetrable calm. For hours I tried to start a conversation, talking about anything that came to mind. But the great animal didn't make a sound. All I received was that deep, indifferent gaze… as if my words were irrelevant compared to his vast universe of silence.
Eventually, something in his posture shifted. He didn't speak, but his body did. A slight tilt of the head, the slow blink of his eyes, and a faint twitch of his ears. Through those gestures, I understood the message:
—"Annoying." Not as a literal word, but as a sensation conveyed through his body language.
He didn't need to say it aloud. His body spoke clearly. That's when I realized that some creatures don't communicate with sounds, but with a powerful, silent presence.
Communication isn't just a matter of words. It's also a language of subtle movements, of gestures that many overlook. Little by little, I learned to interpret them—among animals, among magical beings, among silences.
Thanks to Barbatos' teachings, I learned to recognize signals: "annoying," "mine," "alert," "hungry," "full," "felt good," "you have my respect." Silent phrases that accumulated in my mind, depending on the situation.
Felines, interestingly, were the most expressive. Their gazes, their postures—direct, intense. Unicorns, on the other hand, were distant, reserved. I rarely saw them, and when I did, they seemed to exist on an ethereal plane. Griffins were even more elusive, flying between the trees of the black forest, always out of reach.
Each creature taught me something different. In every gesture, there was a lesson.
Among my boldest theories, I once considered capturing a young feline, hoping to teach it to communicate with me. I wanted to ask questions. Get clear answers. But the plan turned out to be far more complex than I imagined. Not only did it require immense patience, but the cubs were fiercely protected by their mothers, making it nearly impossible to approach.
And when I managed to bring one back to the house… I discovered something far more painful: they weren't recognized as tenants. After the first night, the creatures I had captured didn't survive.
It was devastating. And soon I understood that forcing that interaction wasn't just useless… it was cruel.
I decided to change my approach and devote my efforts to something more respectful: observing and following a particular Liger. This specimen stood out for his clear and direct expressions. Through his body movements, I could understand phrases like: "I must hunt, I'm hungry." Every time I saw him prepare, his gestures became more precise, and I was fascinated by the clarity with which he communicated—without a single word.
My efforts then focused on following him closely, learning from his natural behavior without interfering or altering his freedom.
He realized I was following him, but over time he seemed to resign himself to my presence. Ignoring me, he continued his journey through the trees with the grace and determination of a creature who knows its territory well. At one point, he stopped and began to roll on the ground, covering his white fur with the black dust of residual charcoal left behind by the forest's last self-destructive fire cycle. Back and forth, the white stripes on his body vanished beneath that dark layer, blending perfectly into the shadows.
Determined to follow him without being discovered, I mimicked his movements. I removed the clothes I was wearing and, like him, rolled in the charcoal until my skin was covered. The dust clung to every inch of my body, even darkening my hair. My hands, once pale, were now just another shadow against the black earth. The charcoal reached my lungs, provoking a dry cough, but I managed to endure. I knew this effort was necessary.
From the ground, I understood that in the eternal nights of this place, those who don't sleep are condemned to face a constant cycle of torment. One of the cruelest is the fire that, explosion after explosion, spreads across the fields, consuming vegetation and burning the bark of trees. But this fire doesn't destroy completely. On the contrary, it strengthens the trunks, making them more resilient with each storm. It's a cycle of destruction and renewal that, in many ways, reflects my own struggle here.
Camouflaging myself worked. There was no trace left of what I once was, not even in my hair, now covered in dust. Though the air weighed heavy in my lungs, I knew I couldn't keep doing the same thing and expect different results. This place didn't want to let me go, but if I wanted to survive and find my path, I had to adapt, learn its rules, and most of all—change.
Understanding animals in this world wasn't a problem. In fact, it was useful. The real issue was that these animals didn't have much to say. Their lives were ruled by basic instincts, by the sheer need to survive. There were no secrets, no deep conversations. Just existence.
However, an unexpected joy filled me as I began to encounter demons who, curiously, showed concern for me. Not for my body, as I might have expected, but for my mind. Some seemed genuinely interested in my emotional health. Others encouraged me to relax, to be more selfish, to live without regrets, chasing pleasure without thinking of consequences.
To them, fun and enjoyment were the central purpose of existence. Health, strength, selfishness, and happiness… those were the priorities. Everything else—they said—"will come in time." Live in the moment, seek satisfaction, let the rest fall into place later. And although this was different from what I knew, this mindset began to resonate with me more than I imagined.
I don't want to sound desperate, but today more than ever, I feel a renewed capacity to achieve something meaningful. I finally managed to set lust aside and leave the library of knowledge—that place that had once been my refuge for studying. I can hardly sit down to read like I used to. What once was a pursuit of understanding has now become distractions: sexual desires, fear of change, constant worries that steal my focus.
I dare to think that, had I not wasted so much time on shallow pleasures, maybe I would have already found a way to escape this place. But telling that to a demon… would only earn me a condescending look, like that of a sage facing a child worried about the future.
They, with their eternal calm and infinite perspective, see my concerns as irrelevant. For them, time doesn't carry the same weight it does for me.
Even so, deep inside, I know there's something more I need to seek. Something beyond immediate pleasure and distractions. The sense that I might escape, that there is a higher purpose, grows stronger with each passing day. And even if to the demons that seems naive, I can't help but think that the key to leaving this place lies in focusing my efforts on something greater. Something that transcends the temptations surrounding me.
Asmodeus once told me: "Suffering over something you so thoroughly enjoyed? How will suffering over a problem from the past help you deal with what's in front of you now? Don't let your mind torture you more than necessary in your endless pursuit of trivialities. If those around you think you're crazy, then become unstoppable. Don't let them become obstacles. Evolve, adapt, explore, and risk everything… live like your life is the only one you'll ever have—and never regret it!"
As I walked behind the feline, time stretched out and my mind filled with thoughts. The walk was long—so long it left me alone with my inner voice, the one that could speak endlessly, distracting me for hours. Asmodeus's words echoed in my head, challenging me not to fall into the past or doubt the present.
But the comfort of routine was tempting. Summoning a new demon, repeating the cycle: having sex, losing myself in knowledge, and eventually surrendering… seemed easier than walking naked through a dark forest, body covered in ashes, following a hungry Liger.
Despite the demons' purpose being to roam the Heavens, I realized something unsettling: these beings, powerful as they were, slipped into inaction with surprising ease. It wasn't pleasant for them—or for me—to feel useless in this place. A place they claimed they had always longed to reach. That emptiness, even in infernal paradise, made me wonder if the power and satisfaction they sought truly existed in the way they imagined.
Stagnation, fruitless searching, cyclical, tedious work… began to plant doubts in me. Perhaps, as Asmodeus said, the key lies in continuing to evolve and risking everything. But I still had to discover what that meant for me, in a world full of distractions and fleeting pleasures.
Everyone arrives here searching for the Lord, hoping to ask the question that haunts them: "Why me? Why so much suffering?" At first, I tried to help those who showed up. But to my surprise, they told me not to worry, that they would find their own answers. "All you have to do is enjoy your life while you can," they repeated to me, as if that were the only truth.
And yet, I can't help but feel there's something more I must do. After all, I am a servant. And when the moment comes that a family is recognized as a guest, I will have to follow this place's rules. Though deep down, a part of me still longs for what seems unattainable:
"I hope my sad escape won't take too long to come true."
I wonder what lies beyond these walls. And out there… is there nothing but another prison?
"Well, Silvia," I answered myself, "even so… will you make it?"
Even in freedom, doubt has the right to chase you. So much so that, at that moment, I couldn't look 'Fear' in the face and say the same thing I had told so many fragmented versions of myself.
Maybe escaping Heavens will only lead me into another form of captivity.
Perhaps the real challenge isn't a physical escape, but freeing myself from the chains that tie me to this cycle of suffering and endless searching. A suffering born more in my mind than in my surroundings.
With a mind naturally doomed to have more questions than answers, I kept walking, feeling time itself begin to dissolve.
And when my thoughts wandered, when my will wavered and I nearly gave in… the Liger, tired and hungry, vanished from my sight.
Effort, perseverance, and sustained struggle finally brought the results I had sensed coming since the day before.
In front of me, something appeared: suspended in the air, a kind of portal formed by the interwoven branches of the trees, arranged in a way that defied logic.
Apparently, the key to seeing such an eventuality was being covered in ashes. An ironic reference: I had become a tribute to the fire that shaped me.
For now, I have no idea what the world on the other side of the portal is like, since I am a different version from the one who crossed. I stayed here with the purpose of guarding this place and waiting… for that other part of me to die and return to live within me.
I kept the ring. And I believe it's also time to leave on the table the quill and the ink that have been my confidants, my companions for so long.
With much love, care, and respect, for you… from me.
Silvia Dina 'La Segunda'