Prologue: Monologue of an immortal
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May you find the fate that belongs to you
That which lies beyond pain and pleasure
Blessed is the path you are destined to walk
Know that it is only yours to have

 

The same gentle verses were chanted in her head. It was supposed to give her solace, to give her peace, but those were the furthest from her mind. Years, decades, even centuries, she was stuck in the same struggle she started with. Some days she wanted nothing more than to be released from it all, but most days her greatest desire haunted her with almost the same fervor as the miracle that had kept her alive for all this time.

 

She said alive, but was she really?

 

She was not the only “ghost” that stubbornly remained in this world for certain reasons. No, that sounded like they were fighting against their fate of death, when all they did was receive an invitation to transcend it, become the ones to control it, and rid themselves of mortality.

 

Doesn’t that sound delightful? She had a lot of time to herself all these centuries, and so she questioned whether her true desire was actually not what she thought all this time, but rather just power. Power over humans, power over life and death. It all seemed so enticing, she must admit, but like every other day, she knew better than that. Just like how she continued to shake off the feeling of existential dread and compulsive self-destruction even as she was drowned in a sense of desolation only an immortal would understand, she knew better than to deny the one thing that had kept her still “alive” in her mind.

 

She was no longer human, but if being alive was simply holding onto a desire and trying to make it happen, then she was more alive than anyone she knew.

 

You won’t be able to do it
Not enough
You are not enough

 

The voice shifted from its seemingly amicable tone to its true purpose: taunting her for being far away from where she wanted. It was funny that she, as one of those who have transcended mortality, still had things that were beyond her reach. So beyond her that this voice found endless amusement in mocking her of her incompetence, repeating the same drivel like a broken soulless doll, as if making her give up to “fate” was its one true desire. If that was the case, she thought, then empathetic as she was, this was one wish she could never grant.

 

Sometimes, just sometimes, she thought back to those days. Her human life wasn’t that pretty, but it was the spark to her neverending struggle. A commitment to an impossible dream. If the humans below her were to find out, they would laugh at how ludicrous it was that someone in her position would ever desire such a thing. Not like they would understand, being so controlled by the very power she seeked to overcome.

 

Sometimes, more often that not, she thought back to that moment which changed her life. There were more than one of such instances, and she remembered them all, but dwelling on negativity was not a wise move for an immortal. So she chose to reminisce on that one moment that cemented her one true desire. Despair was no stranger to her, and some might say what happened to her was not even that bad, but the significance of something to someone could only be decided by that very same individual. Mistaken or deluded, that person could not escape being the true judge of what something meant to them.

 

The day she stopped being a human. The day her neverending struggle began.

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