Sine Qua Non

"You cannot imagine what emotions a man without a past has. You are like a boat floating in a vast ocean. The most terrifying thing is not facing a storm, but not being able to find a harbour. The inability to navigate to shore. All you can do is take on disaster after disaster, with no end in sight, never to feel peace and safety."

As he spoke, he looked at the Khoy River, flowing as rapidly as it did any other day. The weight in his heart, the uncertainty and doubts about his past, all that he had buried deep inside and never revealed even to his closest friend, were coming out now. To his student, of all people.

When he turned to Klein, he saw the sympathy—...empathy?—in his expression. The honest offer to aid, even though he had his own concerns, reeling from the death of his friends and a side of the world he had never known.

Azik knew without doubt he had made the right choice.

...

The first tangible clue to his past sparked an impatient flame in him. When they reached Lamud Town, that turned into a magnetic pull, drawing him to the castle.

A life that had previously only been a dream revealed itself to him in full, of his wife and son and a fulfilling happiness under the sun.

He had never entertained the thought of marriage, but he felt the joy of it in that moment, swelling in him. The sharp pain that followed, stabbing his forehead, didn't diminish it at all.

Lost in those recollections and barely cognizant of his surroundings, he moved forward, making his way through the place he knew like the back of his hand. In his vision, the present dilapidated state of the castle overlapped with its past grandeur.

He walked into the hall and down the basement, until at last he stood in front of a coffin and opened it.

Any joy he carried before was violently extinguished, and indescribable grief and rage burnt in its place. His family had died, the son who once looked up to him now nothing but bones, but even in that rest, he wasn't given peace. Someone had dared to desecrate him. He could feel the traces of that person, the same traces that had influenced Klein...

Klein...

Like a bucket of cold water, the reminder pulled him back to the present. The whirlpool of feelings settled as well, though they turned near subzero. He stood up—when had he crumbled?—and it was all he could do to keep his tone even as he spoke to Klein.

Until this day, Azik thought he could take his time to learn more about himself, but he could no longer leave it be. His life here was from before the Fifth Epoch. Between then and now, how much had he forgotten? How many people, how many promises?

Klein tried to console him and he appreciated it, but his mind was set. This was his past—he couldn't sit back and let another person take the burden of uncovering it for him.

...

Even with his ability in travelling through the Spirit World, he arrived in Tingen minutes late, and could only be a witness to the aftermath.

Klein wasn't meant to die so soon, barely in his twenties as he was. They could say it was a "good" death, courageous and brave as he gave his life to save the city, but it wasn't a fair death. Not for a young man who had the world ahead of him.

Azik had received the news about the funeral, spread by Klein's siblings, but he couldn't attend with all of them.

Instead he appeared much after the funeral, to leave flowers and privately apologise, to promise justice in the hopes that Klein's soul could rest easy.

...

Death could not exist without life. For one to master death, they had to first master life. And so, an Undying would live endless lives, until at last they learnt—moving from one who passively went through life to a Ferryman, one who carried people between life and death.