1032 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith

The wind was blowing softly. A gentle breeze rustled the strands of hair and created a flow in the silent water. It felt like a spring breeze, but I knew it was something else, something artificial. Despite the stone-encased surroundings that should not permit the wind, it blew from somewhere within. I had experienced this kind of anomaly once before. ‘When Yawol saw the Divine Tree.’ Even then, a gentle breeze inexplicably blew in a place where it shouldn’t have. It was no different now. Wind was felt in a place where it should not exist. However, I now understood what I didn’t back then. ‘This wind isn’t because of the Divine Tree.’ An anomaly. Something that should not exist. It was a breeze created by something beyond my understanding, and I now faced its origin—a woman who referred to herself as a spirit and claimed to be the shaman of a master, conveying the master's will. Her presence made my heart react violently, not out of fear of an enemy, but from facing an unapproachable being beyond mortal comprehension, a presence one shouldn’t dare to evaluate. Recognizing this, I looked at the spirit, who merely stared at me. Her eyes, masked by a veil, seemed different than before. Even though they were hidden, she seemed to see. I pondered when I last felt this way, and I realized it was at the Divine Tree in Yawol. This breeze. This air. That gaze upon me. There was only one person I could think of who could evoke such a distant yet intimate feeling. And so, I called out to her. “Mother...?” “Oh my.” The spirit, or rather my mother, responded. Her voice remained the same, but her manner of speaking had changed entirely. In that moment, a revelation struck. “You found out?” A low humming trembled across the lake. The gentle ripples of the water grew ever so slightly more turbulent, mirroring my unease. “How did you know?” The spirit, or my mother, inquired. Squinting, I replied simply. “...I just knew.” It was an instinct, a gut feeling. My senses told me that the being in front wasn’t the spirit. If not the spirit, then who? Looking up to the sky, I saw a full moon. The presence of the moon reminded me of when my mother’s soul, encountered at Yawol, mentioned a hill by the full moon's light. I was on that hill under the full moon and so assumed the one before me was my mother. How she manifested within the spirit’s form, I didn’t know, but questioning it now seemed a pointless endeavor. ‘What I do know is this.’ My mother possessed the ability to do such things. It was knowledge I had from the moment I entered the myriad worlds—or perhaps even before. “...How did you come this time?” “Oh, ‘this time’ you say, implying you’ve been through something already.” “Yes. I met Mother at the Divine Tree in Yawol.” “Hmm... Is that so?” Mother tilted her head in curiosity, her white hair swaying. She seemed unaware of her past conversation, lacking recollection of her own voiced resolve. So, I briefly recounted the information imparted to me then. "Hmm." She nodded at my words, particularly noting how she advised seeking answers in Mayeong Mountain for questions unmet at Yawol. “Such a bother… I pushed it off onto myself.” With her self-critical furrowed brow, it was clear her personality differed somewhat from my memory. Though I once remembered her as mature and wise, that was not the entirety of her character. Nevertheless. “Mother.” I called again. “Yes, son? What is it?” Her warm response, reminiscent of when I was a child, soothed me. Despite walking a blood-stained path and struggling against fate, her voice alone made me feel like a child once more—a feeling I clung to dearly. Yet. “What is it that you wish from me?” I understood it was not the time to bask in comfort. The responsibilities resting upon me were as towering as ever. “Why have you led me here? What do you truly wish for me?” “Hmm…” Mother pondered my questions, contemplating either the weight of her response or what she might reveal. After a brief silence, she spoke. “Mom wants her son to be happy.” She continued. “So, if possible, I want to guide you towards a path of happiness. But there aren’t many ways to ensure that.” “Happiness?” I nearly chuckled at those words. A path of happiness. Could such a thing truly exist? I had long given up on that notion—in my past life, and in this one too. In truth, my happiness had long ceased to matter; it was the same even now. “Does such a thing truly exist?” I said as if it meant little to me, and my mother hesitated for a moment. Her small shoulders trembled as if her intended words collapsed inside her. I clicked my tongue inwardly, having not desired to provoke such a reaction. It seemed pitifully petulant to have complained in that way. So, I changed the subject, as if trying to divert from the moment. "Mother, I need the Divine Pill." It was a matter concerning the Divine Pill. There were many questions I had, but at the heart of everything was the Divine Pill. "The Divine Pill?" Mother's response shifted. Was she startled because I mentioned needing it suddenly? Before I could analyze her reaction, she spoke again. “…How do you know about it?” “Pardon?” Her question made me narrow my eyes. How did I know? “What do you mean by that…?” What was she implying all of a sudden? “Huh?” Now, my mother seemed flustered. “Weren’t you already aware?” “Aware of what?” “…Ah.” Realization dawned on her, and she sighed with resignation. Her tone suggested something had gone awry. Upon hearing her, a suspicion crossed my mind, prompting me to ask. “Is it that I need the Divine Pill?” “…” Mother did not reply, but her expression was answer enough. I shook my head and said, “No, that’s not the case. I’ve already consumed the Divine Pill. I obtained it through you.” In the past, I had ingested the Divine Pill to redefine my distorted soul, allowing the soul meant to be my master to manifest once more. “So, I ask… why was I supposed to consume the Divine Pill? And…” I recalled the individual who had given me the pill and inquired, “…Why is the Divine Sword here? Or is it truly the Divine Sword?” I thought of Yarang, who had the face and presence of the Sacred Sword, as I asked this. Mother remained silent, reflecting carefully. Finally, she spoke in reinforcing tones. “Didn't I say I wanted my son to be happy?” “Yes.” “One of the tasks for your happiness was necessary.” “For me to consume the Divine Pill?” That left me further puzzled. “…Why? What happens when I consume it?” I was supposedly meant to become a master and destroy the Central Plains in some fashion. Would that truly bring about happiness? I couldn't understand it. “…Becoming a disaster that burns everything is not happiness.” If such was supposed to be my path to happiness, it seemed utterly absurd. “I'd rather just perish.” “…” My whispered words drew my mother’s attention. It dawned on me that it wasn’t something to voice in front of one's parent. Yet, “Son.” Mother called out as she looked upon me. “You can't die by your own hand.” “What?” “You wouldn’t be able to. Haven’t you ever found it strange?” “…” Listening to her words, I widened my eyes. I rolled up my sleeve and examined my arm, feeling goosebumps spread across. I cannot die by my own hand. Her words shattered something within my understanding. ‘Huh?’ My mind went blank. Enduring countless harsh trials, raging against and resigning to cruel fates, repeatedly living with a heart filled with resentment. ‘Is that so?’ Why hadn’t I ever sought to end my own life? Simply valuing my life or yearning for it didn’t wholly explain the anomaly. Surely not. “…” I sharpened my hand into a deadly weapon. My ki-laden fingers lunged towards my neck. As the energy was about to pierce my throat— Abrupt halt—! “..!” My hand stopped. It wasn't my will. No, it was, but something was off. Unknown forces. Yet again, something unknown was preventing my death.