At first, I was just a reader. A nameless observer turning the pages of a forgotten book. But as my fingers brushed against the brittle paper, something changed. The words were no longer just ink on a page—they were threads pulling me in, unraveling the distance between myself and the world they described.
In that moment, I ceased to be a reader. I became the one who walked the streets, who breathed the air of Akaris, who asked the questions that had never been answered in my own world. I was no longer just reading this story—I was living it.
The old bookstore smelled of aged paper and ink. A scent that wrapped around me like a familiar memory. I ran my fingers along the spines of forgotten tomes until one, bound in worn leather with no title, called to me. Something about it felt alive.
As I flipped through its brittle pages, an envelope fell onto the wooden floor. My breath hitched. I picked it up and unfolded the parchment inside. The ink was faded but the words stood out in elegant, curling script:
"To the one who seeks knowledge beyond time. Follow the pages and witness the land of Akaris. The nation that knew no poverty."
A strange sensation prickled at my skin. A pull I could not ignore. As my eyes traced the words, the bookstore dissolved around me.
When I blinked, I stood in a sunlit city. Its streets were paved with stones that shimmered like silver. Towers of ivory and gold stretched toward the sky. The air was crisp with the scent of blooming orchards. People bustled about, their garments simple yet elegant, their faces serene.
"Ah, a traveler" A man with deep amber eyes approached. "You must be new here. Welcome to Akaris."
I stammered. "Where. When am I?"
He smiled knowingly. "A place that should have been remembered."
He gestured for me to follow and I did, stepping into a city that thrived in ways my world had only dreamed of.
"No one here is poor?" I asked as we passed a bustling market where merchants bartered without greed. They exchanged goods with mutual respect.
"No one" he confirmed. "Every citizen receives a share of the land's wealth. Resources are managed wisely. No excess. No waste. Everyone works according to their skill and salaries are adjusted so all can live comfortably. There are no taxes. Only contributions of labor and knowledge."
"But what if someone refuses to work?" I challenged.
"They are rare" he said. "From a young age, people learn that working benefits all including themselves. Purpose is fulfillment not burden."
A woman selling fruits turned her gaze toward me. "You. You are not from here, are you?" Her eyes narrowed slightly. "I have seen your face before."
A shiver ran through me. How? I had never been here. But before I could question her, my guide led me away.
We passed through streets lined with tall fragrant trees. Their branches were heavy with golden fruit. Children played nearby. Their laughter filled the air while craftsmen worked with effortless grace. I saw a man sculpting a grand fountain, his hands moving as if guided by an unseen force. Another group tended to lush gardens, their work deliberate yet filled with joy.
"Every citizen has a role" my guide explained. "And every role is valued. No one hoards wealth for wealth is meaningless when all needs are met. Akaris flourishes because its people flourish."
"But how do you ensure fairness?" I asked.
"The land belongs to all" he said. "There is no private ownership. Resources are gathered and distributed according to the needs of the people. Farmers grow food and submit it to the central stores. Builders construct homes based on demand. Those skilled in medicine heal without payment. Those who manage distribution ensure no one takes more than they need but also that no one receives less."
I marveled at the harmony. "But what if disaster strikes? A drought? A war?"
He nodded thoughtfully. "We prepare but we do not fear. The land provides when respected. Conflicts are resolved with reason not force. Every decision is made for the whole not the few."
His words lingered in my mind as we approached a grand hall lined with bookshelves. "This is our archive where the knowledge of Akaris is recorded."
My fingers trembled as I reached for an ancient book. Its cover was the same as the one in the bookstore. With a deep breath, I opened it. The pages detailed everything I had seen. The structured economy. The balanced society. The way people lived without poverty or excess. But then I saw something that stole the air from my lungs.
The author's name was mine.
A cold sensation washed over me. "How."
The man looked at me with quiet understanding. "You have dreamed of such a world before, have you not? You whispered these ideas into the past. Akaris was built from those dreams. And now, you remember."
"This is not possible" I whispered. "I have never been here. I have never written this."
He stepped closer, his gaze calm yet firm. "Not in the way you think. Dreams carry weight. Thoughts drift beyond time. You spoke of a world like this in your sleep, perhaps long ago. A man of the past heard you. He recorded your words. And from them, Akaris was born."
My heart pounded. It was absurd yet something deep within me stirred. I had always imagined a place like this. Had my thoughts truly shaped history?
The world around me flickered. The pages of the book turned faster on their own. My vision blurred and then I was back in the bookstore.
The book lay open before me. The words were clear as daylight. Akaris had existed and somehow I had written its story. But was it truly the past or a future yet to come?
As I left the bookstore, the scent of blooming orchards lingered in the air.
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