The beach was quiet at six in the morning. A man walked barefoot on the shore.
The water occasionally reached his feet before retreating back into the sea again, leaving behind cold traces of foam that disappeared just as quickly. In one hand, he carried a violin loosely at his side. His long white hair shifted gently with the ocean breeze and his mismatched sapphire and golden eyes remained fixed on the horizon.
It was Vastarael Richinaria. Or at least, one fifth of him.
Today was the hundredth day.
So instead of pretending rest would happen, Vastarael had come here alone, to the beach outside Modernia's Island's shore, violin in hand, walking without destination while waiting for sunrise.
The moment the first golden rays touched the horizon, another figure appeared. He was simply there.
It was the same man who had come one year ago, asking for an answer that Vastarael refused to give at the time. He looked exactly the same as before, standing there like someone untouched by the passing of time itself.
For a second, neither of them spoke. Luminescent sighed.
"So, has a year been enough?"
Vastarael stopped walking. He looked at the ocean for a moment, then finally turned at Luminescent.
"You really came."
"I said I would."
"That sounds like poor decision-making."
Luminescent gave him a long look.
"Are you ready to give me your answer?"
Vastarael was quiet. Then, unexpectedly, he tilted his head.
"Do you want to hear a short fairytale?"
"A fairytale?"
"Yes."
"That sounds suspicious."
"It probably is."
Luminescent stared at him for another second, then sighed through his nose.
"Fine. Go on."
Vastarael looked back at the ocean.
"It's called The Fairytale of A Man Who Gave Up Everything. It's an ancient fairytale from Spheraphase. Humans made it millennia ago."
He adjusted the violin lightly in his hand before beginning.
"Once upon a time, at the edge of a whispering forest, lived a wealthy merchant named Marth. He possessed chest upon chest of gold, a manor of fine stone and a velvet coat for every day of the week yet, a heavy emptiness sat in his chest. No matter how much he acquired, the weight only grew. One evening, an old beggar with eyes like cracked ice knocked on his door."
His voice stayed calm as he spoke.
"'Give me a copper, master, and I will give you a secret,' the old man said. Marth, weary of his own burdens, threw a handful of gold at the beggar's feet."
"'Take it all. I want no secrets, only peace.'"
Luminescent crossed his arms quietly but said nothing.
"The beggar smiled. 'Peace is not bought, dear Marth. It is paid for in what you leave behind. If you truly wish to be light, you must give up everything.' The words stuck in Marth's mind so the next morning, determined to find this elusive peace, he flung open his doors. First, Marth called the villagers and gave away his wealth. He emptied his safes and tossed his gold into the streets."
"The villagers cheered and snatched up the coins but as Marth watched them, his heart remained heavy. He still felt the phantom weight of the gold. Second, he gave away his home and his status. He stripped off his velvet coat, handed the keys of the manor to a penniless blacksmith and walked into the cold forest wearing nothing but rough linen. Yet, his mind still raced with memories of his reputation, his name and his past. The weight was still there."
Luminescent's expression had changed now.
"Finally, deep in the woods, Marth found a black, bottomless pool. Sitting beside it was a massive eyeless crow. 'You have given away your gold and your coat,' croaked the crow. 'Yet you are still burdened. What is left to give?'"
"'I have nothing left,' Marth wept."
"'You have your sorrow,' said the crow. 'You have your memories of who you used to be. You have your very name. Give them to me.'"
Vastarael's voice was low now.
"Marth hesitated. To give away his name and memories meant erasing himself entirely but the ache in his chest was too great."
"'Take them,' he whispered."
"The crow flew down, pecked once at his forehead and swallowed his past. Instantly, the heavy weight vanished. Marth forgot his name. He forgot his wealth, his old home and the face of his mother. He became as light as a dead leaf caught in the wind. He sat beneath an oak tree… completely empty with no sadness, no joy, no cold and no warmth. He was simply a hollow shell."
The sun rose higher. Neither man moved.
"Years passed. The villagers forgot the merchant who gave them gold. One day, a young woodcutter wandered deep into the forest and there, he found a strange sight. A man made entirely of driftwood and gray stone sat beneath the oak tree. The wind blew through the holes in his chest, making a low mourning whistle. The woodcutter tried to speak to him but the man could not answer. He had given away his voice, his mind and his humanity."
Vastarael finally looked directly at Luminescent.
"He achieved perfect peace but there was no one left inside to enjoy it."
Luminescent looked at him for a while.
"That was depressing."
Vastarael shrugged.
"Ancient Humans like horrific endings. It reminds me of the Grimms fairytales on a planet called Earth. They were usually not meant for bedtime stories."
"That does not answer my question."
"It does."
Luminescent narrowed his eyes. Vastarael looked back at the sunrise.
"That is my answer."
"You're going to have to explain that."
Vastarael let out a slow breath.
"Marth thought peace meant giving up everything. Gold. Status. Identity. Memory. Even himself. And in the end, he got what he wanted. He stopped suffering but he stopped being anything else too."
Luminescent stayed quiet before his eyes widened.
"You're saying…"
"I understand the fairytale. I understand what it means to give things up. I've already done that. I've given up years in Regnum Musicae to be the strongest I can be. I've given up lives to make sure that my beloved Narisva advanced to the next rank and save her life. I gave up pieces of myself to be able to become stronger but despite all this, I'm not becoming hollow."
His eyes moved back at Luminescent.
"I'm not going to erase myself just to feel lighter. I know sacrifice but there's a difference between sacrificing something and giving up everything until there's nothing left inside."
Luminescent was silent. He waited an entire year for this answer and somehow… this felt exactly like the kind of answer Vastarael would give him. After a while, Luminescent exhaled through his nose.
"You really made me wait a year fo ra fucking folklore."
Vastarael tilted his head.
"You came back."
"That is not the point."
"It kind of is. What, did you expect me to beg for my life and tell you to spare me? Please."
"You're a monster."
"Correct."
"So your answer is no."
"My answer is a choice. I'm choosing what I give up and I'm choosing what I keep. I'm not Marth. Even though that was the fairytale that got me my Aeterium Demesne, I still won't act like him."
He had already decided long ago. Luminescent looked at him carefully. Then after a while, he gave the faintest nod.
"I understand. You could have just said that from the beginning."
"And miss the opportunity to emotionally devastate my potential nemesis with an ancient fairytale?"
"That is weird for you to do."
Vastarael smiled.