Long ago, the world was whole.
One ocean.
One sky.
One land where people walked without ever thinking about the ground beneath them.
But slowly, almost too slowly for anyone to notice at first, the earth began to split.
At first it was just small cracks in the soil. A thin line running through fields, streets, and forests. People stepped over them without concern.
Then the cracks widened.
Rivers began flowing into them. Bridges stretched across the growing gaps. Cities built walls to keep their streets from crumbling apart.
Years passed.
Then decades.
Then centuries.
The world was still splitting.
Now there were two continents drifting slowly away from each other like broken pieces of glass. Between them stretched a vast, endless chasm filled with dark clouds and distant thunder.
People stopped trying to cross it long ago.
They called the two sides East and West, though neither one truly knew which was which anymore.
And on opposite edges of the broken world lived two people who had never met.
Lena lived on the western edge.
Every evening, she climbed the tall cliffs overlooking the divide. The land ended there, dropping into miles of empty air and swirling clouds below. The other half of the world floated far in the distance like a shadow.
Most people avoided the cliffs.
But Lena liked watching the sky.
One night, while sitting on the edge, she noticed something strange.
A flicker of light.
Not a star.
Not lightning.
It came from the other side of the world.
A small, steady glow blinking on and off.
Lena frowned.
Then she raised a lantern and flashed it back.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The light across the divide paused.
Then blinked again.
Miles away, on the eastern edge of the broken world, a boy named Arin stared at the horizon.
He had been climbing the same tower every night for months, sending signals into the darkness just to see if anyone would answer.
Most nights, no one did.
But tonight—
A lantern blinked back.
Arin nearly dropped his light.
He blinked again.
The signal returned.
Slowly, carefully, the two began flashing patterns of light across the enormous gap.
At first, it was simple.
One blink.
Two blinks.
Three.
Eventually they started sending letters.
A clumsy code built from flashes of light across miles of empty sky.
Weeks turned into months.
They learned each other’s names.
Lena.
Arin.
They told each other small things first.
Favorite foods.
Favorite places.
Stories about their towns.
Eventually the conversations stretched for hours every night.
The gap between the two continents continued widening.
But somehow the distance between them felt smaller.
One evening, after a long pause in the signals, Lena blinked something new.
I wish I could see you.
Arin stared at the message glowing across the horizon.
He blinked back.
Me too.
The silence afterward lasted longer than usual.
Finally Lena asked the question both of them had been avoiding.
Do you think the world will ever stop splitting?
Arin looked down at the endless chasm between them.
The clouds below swallowed sound, light, and anything that dared fall into them.
No, he signaled slowly.
Another pause.
Then Lena sent something unexpected.
Then I’ll walk.
Arin frowned.
Walk where?
Toward you.
Arin’s heart pounded.
There’s nowhere to walk. The land ends.
Lena’s lantern blinked again.
Then I’ll keep walking until it doesn’t.
Arin laughed softly to himself.
It was impossible.
Everyone knew it was impossible.
But something in his chest refused to dismiss the idea.
He raised his lantern again.
Then I’ll walk too.
And so they did.
The next morning, Lena left the cliffs behind and began traveling east.
At the same time, Arin left his tower and began walking west.
Mountains rose between them.
Cities stood in their way.
Rivers and forests stretched across the land.
But every night they stopped, climbed the highest place they could find, and searched the horizon.
And every night, somewhere in the distance—
A lantern blinked.
Closer than the night before.
The world continued splitting apart.
But for the first time in centuries, two people were walking toward the place where it had broken.
Taking the long way to each other.