<
But Mike had other plans. That stubborn old man insisted I meditate in the mountains for three months before I could return to my normal life.
He bestowed upon me the name “Lethe” with the hope that I would forget the past.
I knew it was for my own good.
Like in my past life, I worked hard, determined to get into the university I had longed for but never experienced. And this time, I made it.
As I walked onto the campus, a sense of peace washed over me.
Everything was falling into place just as it should.
Now, sitting here, recalling the painful memories of my past, I found peace in my heart. Everything was moving in a good direction.
Spring was on its way, bringing with it the promise of fresh starts.
Chapter 9 Side Story About Mike
Today, fate assigned me an unexpected duty: to mentor a young girl.
As soon as I saw her face, even with all my experience, I was taken aback.
Her appearance was horrifying: her face was distorted, her eyes were bulging, and her head was swollen. Her tiny frame was marred by more than a dozen wounds, and her skin was a canvas of countless bruises.
Yet, despite the brutality etched into her flesh, her spirit remained radiant with purity.
This was not just a death; it was an injustice.
Gazing at her, I could see the nascent fury in her eyes, threatening to spill over with vengeance.
Her eyes were filled with a deathly stillness; without a word, I could hear the silent scream in her heart.
She wanted them to die for the wrongs they committed.
I delved into her memories.
Her existence could only be encapsulated by the word “tragic“.
her classmates
Her father’s betrayal led to a painful divorce, her mother was ground down by relentless work until illness took her away, sneered and shunned her, her lover discarded her with heartless indifference, and in a final, devastating blow, her own brother ended her life
with deliberate malice.
Each memory etched a sorrowful portrait of her fleeting time on earth.
Even Death himself whispered that he dared not claim her soul, afraid her essence might cut his own existence short.
And Charon, the ferryman, paused with her coin in hand, wary of the deep resentment that might linger in her tormented spirit.
I watched the two, letting out a resigned sigh before finally taking on the guardianship of this young girl.
Using the Huestone, I wove an illusionary world, a mirror to reality itself.
To keep this world spinning, I also had to step inside its bounds.
I scrubbed clean her slate of sorrowful memories and sent her into this world carrying only the happiest shards of her past.
There she was, in the illusion, full of mischief. Her pranks on her father and his lover brought a mischievous sparkle to her eyes.
A stifled giggle behind her hand and the way she nestled close to her mother were the essence of childhood.
Within this realm, I turned into an influencer, riding the wave of digital popularity, and breathed easier knowing she was one of my followers.
After untangling some of her knotted thoughts, I was summoned for pressing matters, believing a short departure would be inconsequential.
Yet, I was back just in time; without my swift return, she might have unleashed chaos.
In my absence, with malevolent spirits wreaking havoc, the seals on her former life’s memories weakened.
Thankfully, her mother’s altered destiny still held a sliver of hope, which I used to anchor the girl’s turbulent spirit.
She asked for my aid against those disruptive specters, and I was more than willing to assist.
With the turmoil settled, I hoped she would find peace, yet a whisper of vengeance still clung to her.
With a word to her mother, I whisked the girl away to the mountains for three months of tranquil retreat to purge the last vestiges of her wrath before she could descend.
How did I achieve this?
Because she was far too clever, demanding I confess that this dreamscape had threads tied to reality.
She only felt satisfied when she learned that her father, his lover, and their child faced a grim fate following her death.
I was merely attempting to shield her from further suffering and prevent her from entangling herself too deeply in the snares of karma.
Truly, she was an ungrateful child!
As I prepared to depart, there at the mountain’s foot lay a jar of exquisite wine.
With an affectionate smile, I whispered, “You’ve never been able to take even the slightest criticism, have
you, Lethe?”
