There are fresh florets on the white tree again. The pretty white petals have started to show, trying to bloom their wings from the inner husks that were their prison.
How fascinating.
I have watched the white flowering tree for several lifetimes and have grown very fond of her.
Her pureness. Her fragrance.
Despite having watched her budding, blooming, wilting, then budding again... .
Why would she not bloom for me.
Ahhhh... that's right.
There is him.
There has always been him.
I caress the long straight brown line on the trunk of the tree. The only ugliness on the whiteness that was her body.
Even this wound... was caused by him.
Causing her almost sentient being to almost disperse and to enter the mortal world.
The wound on her real body in this colorless plane becomes the mark that follows her throughout her reincarnations(1).
Then he followed her.
Has been following her ever since then.
Perhaps out of regret, perhaps out of sense of responsibility,
.... perhaps out of ... obsession... this obsession that I am feeling.
I am the Seer. I see and observe souls. Through the vastness of endless water, I see souls in their journeys of various incarnations.
Mortals'....
Immortals'....
Throughout their tribulations... .
Just like what she has been undergoing ever since he almost caused her spirit to disappear.
Just like what he has been subjected to... . To repent, she has become his tribulation.
Just like how she has become my addiction.
I have been following her across several lifetimes, across several realms, across different dimensions and worlds. I have been utilizing mortal vessels most compatible to my own soul to be part of her tribulation.
Why could she not see? I have done all those things for her. I supported her through all worldly needs and wants. I could give her anything she would ever want.
My immortal soul... has that ability.
Then perhaps one day when her soul is once again whole, in this endless eternity belonging to the immortals, we can observe the waters together.
But again and again, she never looked my way.
It's always him again.
Even now, these pretty florets... .
Ah........ , they are not for me... .
My little white flower... . Why won't you bloom for me?
The current vessel... the Crown Prince of an insignificant Empire in one of the mortal worlds... . This vessel is .... different.
I have been trying to take over... . Just like many more vessels before him.
But his soul is stronger than I bother to give credit for. Much much stronger. I have not been able to directly evict his soul to his next cycle of reincarnation so I can overtake his body.
Just like how I have overtaken so many before him.
So I can be closer to my white flower. Because as a Crown Prince - the future king of a dynasty - surely I can make her bloom for me?
But his soul is strong. I don't know if I am consuming him or if his soul is consuming me.
Time is running out.
Time is running out.
Time is running out.
When time runs out, I can only destroy her again, get rid of her mortal body and her memories of him.
A blank slate. The tree will wilt again, her petals turning into shade of brown in rot.
That's right. For a flower that would not bloom for me... .
It would be better for her to just rot.
If I could not have her, no one else could have her.
If she would not bloom for me, I would keep subjecting her to endless cycle of reincarnations, tormenting her various mortal selves with pain and deaths.
Then at least, she will show her colors for me.
The brown of the rot that is her real body... the red of the blood that is from her mortal selves.
Beautiful.
