In a haze of exhaustion and jet lag, Sam trudged off the plane and into an airport that seemed like every other airport they had ever seen. The fluorescent lighting buzzed faintly, and the scent of industrial cleaner lingered in the air. As a seasoned traveler, Sam was adept at navigating new destinations, but something felt… off. The language on the signs was unrecognizable, a swirling script unlike any alphabet Sam had ever encountered.
Sam approached the customs desk with their passport in hand, a thread of unease snaking through their mind. The officer, dressed in an immaculate navy uniform adorned with an emblem of an unfamiliar crest, glanced at the passport and frowned.
"Purpose of visit to Lyvatia?" the officer asked in clipped, accented English.
Sam blinked. "Lyvatia? I’ve never heard of it. I was supposed to land in Budapest."
The officer arched a sharp brow. "Your boarding pass says Lyvatia International."
Sam pulled the crumpled slip of paper from their pocket. Sure enough, it read: LYV001 – Lyvatia International Airport. A cold chill ran through them. They had never booked a flight to Lyvatia. In fact, they were certain Lyvatia didn’t exist.
"I think there’s been a mistake," Sam stammered.
The officer’s gaze sharpened. "Mistakes are rare in Lyvatia. Step aside, please."
Sam was escorted to a small, windowless room where a different officer, this one older and wearing an even more elaborate uniform, joined them. The man introduced himself as Captain Elory of the Lyvatian Border Authority.
"You seem... confused," Elory said, settling into a chair across from Sam.
"Confused doesn’t begin to cover it," Sam said, frustration seeping into their voice. "I’ve traveled all over the world, but I’ve never heard of this place. Lyvatia isn’t on any map."
Elory’s expression remained inscrutable. "Ah, yes, the maps. They rarely show Lyvatia. It’s better that way."
Sam stared at him, incredulous. "Better? What does that even mean? Am I dreaming or something?"
"No," Elory replied calmly. "You’re quite awake. But you’ve stumbled into a place few outsiders ever reach. Lyvatia exists on the margins, between what is known and what is forgotten. We are hidden, by design."
The absurdity of the situation made Sam laugh nervously. "So, you’re telling me this is some kind of… secret country? How is that even possible?"
Elory leaned forward, clasping his hands. "It is possible because we choose to be unseen. Lyvatia exists apart from the chaos of the modern world. We have our own systems, our own ways of life. Outsiders are rare, but when they do arrive—well, they must adapt."
"Adapt? I didn’t choose to come here!" Sam exclaimed.
Elory nodded solemnly. "And yet, here you are."
A Country Out of Time
The next few days were a blur of strange encounters and baffling experiences. Sam was housed in a modest inn in a city called Veltana, where buildings towered like ancient stone sentinels, their surfaces carved with intricate patterns. The streets were cobbled and bustling with people, all of whom spoke the same flowing language that had been on the airport signs.
Sam wandered aimlessly, trying to make sense of Lyvatia. It was a paradoxical place—both old and new. The city had an air of timelessness, with horse-drawn carriages clattering alongside sleek electric trams. Merchants sold goods in open-air markets, their stalls illuminated by floating orbs of light that defied explanation.
Technology existed, but it was unlike anything Sam had ever seen. There were no smartphones, yet public terminals allowed people to access something resembling the internet. Money wasn’t paper or coins but small, glowing chips embedded in rings that citizens wore.
Curiosity eventually led Sam to the Central Library, a towering edifice with spires that seemed to pierce the clouds. Inside, rows upon rows of leather-bound books stretched endlessly, their spines labeled in the same enigmatic script. A librarian, a young woman named Tala, took pity on Sam’s evident confusion.
"You’re not from here," Tala said softly, her tone more empathetic than accusatory.
"No," Sam admitted. "I don’t even know how I got here."
Tala regarded them thoughtfully. "Lyvatia chooses who it reveals itself to. Perhaps there’s something you’re meant to find here."
"What does that even mean?" Sam asked, exasperated.
Tala smiled enigmatically. "That’s for you to discover."
Unveiling the Truth
Determined to understand, Sam began exploring Lyvatia in earnest. They discovered that the country’s history was shrouded in myth. According to locals, Lyvatia was founded centuries ago by a group of scholars and inventors who sought to escape the violence and greed of the outside world. Using technologies and knowledge far beyond their time, they cloaked the country in secrecy, creating a self-sufficient utopia.
But cracks in the facade were evident. Sam overheard whispers of unrest—of people questioning whether isolation was worth the cost. Some spoke of the "Invisible Divide," a growing rift between those who embraced tradition and those who yearned for change.
One night, while wandering the quieter parts of Veltana, Sam stumbled upon a hidden gathering. A group of young Lyvatians had assembled in an abandoned theater, their voices filled with passion.
"We can’t stay hidden forever!" one man argued. "The world is moving on without us. We have knowledge that could help others."
"But at what cost?" a woman countered. "Revealing ourselves means inviting chaos. Do we really want to be consumed by the greed and corruption we’ve avoided for so long?"
Sam felt a strange kinship with the group. After days of feeling like an outsider, they finally spoke up. "Maybe you don’t have to choose one extreme or the other," they said. "The world out there isn’t perfect, but it’s not all bad, either. Maybe Lyvatia could help bridge the gaps instead of hiding from them."
The group fell silent, their eyes on Sam. It was the first time Sam felt truly seen in Lyvatia.
A Choice to Stay
As days turned into weeks, Sam found themselves drawn into the currents of Lyvatian life. They learned snippets of the language, formed tentative friendships, and even began to understand the peculiar logic of Lyvatian technology.
Captain Elory visited them one afternoon with an unexpected proposition.
"You’ve acclimated better than most," he said. "We have a tradition here: those who find their way to Lyvatia are given a choice. You may stay and become one of us, or we can send you back to where you came from. But if you leave, you will remember nothing of your time here."
The weight of the decision was staggering. Lyvatia was strange, challenging, and utterly unlike anything Sam had ever known. But it was also captivating, a place brimming with possibility.
"I don’t know," Sam admitted. "How can I choose when I barely understand what brought me here?"
Elory smiled faintly. "Perhaps it’s not about understanding. Perhaps it’s about trust."
A New Beginning
In the end, Sam chose to stay. The allure of Lyvatia—the mystery, the potential for discovery—was too great to resist. They were granted citizenship in a quiet ceremony, their name inscribed in the official register with a glowing stylus.
As Sam walked through the streets of Veltana, now with a sense of belonging, they felt a strange mix of exhilaration and peace. Lyvatia was still a puzzle, but it was a puzzle they were now a part of.
And perhaps, in time, they would help shape its future.