Chapter 2: 2. Prologue II (The Cries that Split the Skies)
Light; a light was the last thing he saw after incinerating the continent. But he did not know of this, nor did he care.
He began to attempt crawling out of the darkness by trying to grab the light of life.
He wished to live and started fighting fate.
Every time he lived, he also dies; such an endless cycle tormented him to no end. It was eating at his mind and sanity; he began to feel more and more detached from anything and everything.
He was tired of death, and the more he became tired of it, the more he grew fond of life. So, in another death, he extended his hands, looked at the beautiful crimson moon of the world, and shed tears of blood.
"I want to live." His body was then chopped to pieces and fed to beasts.
He expected another cycle; however, something happened.
He no longer found himself in the cold darkness.
Instead, his fate took a particular twist, bringing him not to a world of cold loneliness but a place where warmth embraced him.
He did not know where he was.
It was dark; nonetheless, he felt like being cradled.
It was warmth, something he did not think he would feel again.
It was not the warmness of blood he had felt countless times.
'What is this? This feeling, I like this.'
The man who had suffered hardships time and time again began to feel bliss for the first time in a long time. He was just about to let his guard down when he felt like death will follow shortly.
Though he inherited no memory from this being in the darkness, he knew that something was coming.
'I must prepare.'
He thought as such – but nothing ever came.
The only thing that came was a flash of something hot. That hot feeling did not bother him the least, as it was extinguished shortly after it appeared.
Time flowed, and his eyes began to feel heavy, was it a peaceful death this time? He was unsure.
He could not tell the time or what is happening.
Time is a stream that never stops; time flowed in this life as it did in his uncountable deaths. But, without death pulling him to another reality, loneliness began to creep its ugly head in his heart once again.
Loneliness is the bane of every being. He once became a Dragon who died of natural cause.
That Dragon had lived a long life of solitude hoarding gold for it to keep; no one could match its strength, so everyone feared it.
In the Dragon's death, the solitude it loved went against it, and loneliness became its bane.
The desolateness of its life; the time it spent hoarding treasures was meaningless, and the lifeless dwelling of the Dragon became suffocating.
He died in that suffocation, without any meaning in life other than a being of loneliness. It was a death worse than being cut in half, for it was not the physical pain that killed the Dragon, but the mind that had been devoured by the thoughts of endless misery of being alone.
He did not wish to die like that again.
The lonesome feeling of death was one of the worst ways to die. He kicked and turned, trying to see if he can catch anyone's attention if he was to die, he does not wish for it to be like this.
♩♬♩ "Child, listen to your Mother's words, seek the light, and pray for life..." ♩♬♩
A song pierced his ears and soul. The one who was singing had a soothing soft voice; it was different from when he heard the screams of his numerous mothers. It was not pleading for life, nor was it trying to end one.
It was soothing, and listening to it, he began calming down. He tried to reach where that voice was coming from; he yearned for that voice, his loneliness was soothed by such an angelic tune that he wished for it never to stop.
He continued reaching out for it until he grew tired and fell asleep. Every time he would wake, he will move, and that voice will become the pillar that stopped him from going insane.
He was peace as the tune soothed his mind.
From time to time, he will hear the singing woman speak; the voice will frequently murmur about different things. It does not matter if her stories make sense or not because he cannot make out the uttered words.
The words were incoherent for him. Though he had been forced to learn many languages, this time, he received no memory or knowledge, so he could not make out any of the words.
Still, he wished to learn in order to better understand the words being said to him. He hoped for companionship; he did his best to learn for the memories of being abandoned are still fresh in his mind.
And after a long time, he finally understood some words.
"I wish...healthy."
The sentences were incomplete, but that was enough. With the passage of time, everything flowed naturally; his life force began to thrum with the beat of his heart. The voice he would occasionally hear increased, and he began to feel more warmth than cold.
He was liberated from the cold feeling of death; it was bliss, pure bliss that he managed to forget others' sadness and focus on himself. He could no longer accurately remember most of his earlier lives. The first life he lived is now nothing but a blurred image.
Time is unforgiving, yet its mercy is shown through the subtle changes that show. The gradual decrease of his loneliness is a gift from time. Thus, he thanked it for its gifts.
Then one night, he felt like he was being pushed, once again, he was drawn to light. It was not the same as before, but he feared that light, it felt like he would be drawn to death once again.
He felt pressure gripping him, not letting him go, but the scream of a woman gathered strength and pushed him out of the darkness and brought him into the light.
"Uwaaa."
"Madam Arya, it is a healthy boy."
The cries of a child echoed as the celebratory cheers of the midwife and servants filled the room while another run out to inform the man waiting for the joyous news. The child was wrapped in a soft clothed as it was gently taken cared of by the servants.
"Please, let me see him."
"Of course, Madam."
The midwife passed the child to the woman lying weakly on the bed, whose name was Arya. Arya had no strength; she was physically and mentally drained; it was a harsh labor that did not occur even when she gave birth to her first children.
But this time, it was different as the circumstances were severely against the life of the child. It was a hard and delicate process, but it was worth it as she got to hold her son.
"My child, you are safe."
A single line of tear appeared. Arya had been worried for months, and seeing her son cry like a healthy child, the joy in her heart was overwhelming.
The child stopped his cries as he got to embrace his mother. His eyesight is poor as he had only been born; he could only see what was happening 8–12 inches away.
He stared at the eyes of his mother and then settled down. A kind of warm feeling emerged from his heart, and it spread throughout his body.
Bam!
"Arya! Are you alright?
"I am fine."
"What about our son?"
The urgent inquiry of a man echoed in the ears of the servants and Arya alike. A young man around his thirties burst into the room, the luxurious clothing he wore was untidy, and his usually neat hair was but a shadow of its former glory. His unkempt appearance was the testament to the 12-hour long wait behind a door where he could only hear his wife's cries.
But despite his slightly aged appearance and his untidy clothes, the majesty of his visage shows that he was a man possessing a handsome face.
"Our child's been born as healthy as could be. Come here and hold him." Arya's voice was weak, but she tried her best to speak.
Daryun approached the bed; when he went to carry his son in his arms, he trembled. But when the abnormal warmth of his son's body was felt, he became calm.
Daryun looked at his son's face. He smiled as the strand of hair that his son possesses was a striking red.
He was celebrating, but above the manor, a phenomenon happened.
The cries of the child became the root that resulted for the sky to split.
Hong!!!!
The mansion trembled as the skies parted. Many of the servants fell and tumbled but Daryun was steady as he held his son and stood in front of his wife.
The midwife and the servants were then forced out of the room by Daryun himself.
The ceiling of the mansion crumbled, but rabbles didn't come close to Daryun as with a single puff of air from his nose caused the caved roof to scatter all over the area. The room was clean as it should be.
He glared at the parted skies; a golden and feathery being with an exalted aura came down from the heavens and looked passed Daryun and into their still nameless son.
"The premonition of the Drunken Sage proves to be true; a Celestial Nether Phoenix has truly come down. Phoenix, don't be too angry; it is merely fate."
The stretched wings of the Celestial Nether Phoenix covered five thousand meters. Three locks of feather acted as its crown. A violet line could be seen tracing the edges of its every feather giving it a primordial and majestic feel.
Scriiiiii!
The Celestial Nether Phoenix screeched, and the heavens became a sea of golden flames. The night sky turned bright as if it was day, the golden glow of the Phoenix proved to be capable of overwhelming the night.
The mansion began to burn, yet Daryun was calm. The Phoenix came and tried to enter the body of the young child. Daryun saw this and waved his hand, encaging the Phoenix in an enclosed space where it would not be able to harm his child.
Daryun rose to the air with his son still in his embrace. Daryun's azure hair fluttered with the wind as his heavenly essence began to flow. He brought out a five-inched jade seal carved to resemble the beauty and splendor of the Celestial Nether Phoenix.
"Seal!"
The space that caged the Phoenix began to shrink until it was no bigger than the jade seal. A golden light shot out from the jade seal. The jade phoenix came alive, its jade body shot up to the sky, and its wings expanded to a hundred meters.
The jade Phoenix flew up to the skies, and when it reached ten thousand meters up, it finally descended like a meteor. It opened its beak and devoured the Celestial Nether Phoenix. The now golden jade seal returned to the hands of Daryun.
The sculpted beauty of the Phoenix became true as it genuinely resembled that of the Celestial Nether Phoenix that appeared earlier, albeit it was now thousands of times smaller.
"The Phoenix blessed us with its majestic appearance. The Drunken Sage once had a vision, he said; "The bird of life and death descends from the highest peak of the skies, his body will be charred, and the only way to save the child is with the light of a Jade."
"The Phoenix's been sealed in jade, with this, you are now saved, my son.
"But it has yet to truly accept that it is your companion, in the future, when the ninth cycle of your life dawns, you will be able to align with the Phoenix and control its powers."
With the Golden Phoenix on his left hand and his son on the right, he placed the seal on his child's chest and let it enter his body as if it was an ethereal object. The newly born son of Daryun cried as the burning feeling in his veins spread.
He cried but soon settled as he got used to the pain. The fast adaption of his son made Daryun smile with joy.
"You truly are my son, a warrior, even from the start."
The Celestial Nether Phoenix settled inside the child's body, and Daryun descended from the skies. He looked at Arya and smiled.
Arya returned the smile with one of her own. She received her son in her embrace once again and heard Daryun asks.
"What should we name our son?"
"As the Drunken Sage who burnt his life to save our child, I suppose it is only fitting we honor him by granting our son the name he had picked. From the words of the northern jungles, that means "born from ashes" his name will be—Hal. The firstborn son of our Estize Family, Hal Estize."
"Hal Estize, that is a good name. I wish to prepare a banquet, but the mansion is too battered to host anything, so I guess it is best to rest. Darya and Alri will return home tomorrow; it will not be too late to host a banquet then."
Year 354, Gallund Calendar, on the first day of the first month of the year, the man who experienced every possible death and took the name of thousands of people finally gained a name that is his.
Just like a Phoenix, he was reborn. Reborn with a new life and new purpose, a new line began to form as his path began to start.
He was alive, finally, and with this life, he carried the wishes of countless lives who wish for a second chance.
'I will live.'
Was what he thought until now.
The temperature began to settle, but the light did not. The night was still like a golden day. It was bright and glorious; thus, the golden light marked the day of Hal Estize's birth.
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