The Twenty Virtues Book 1- The Twenty Generals

32-How Tiring...

Four different temporal realities. In one, there is a bridge spanning a great sea; in another, a vast green and fruitful field; there is also a desert of stones and the great city of New York. Why don't we start with that one?

Sorry, I went ahead too quickly. I bet you're confused; I'm a bit tired myself, to be honest. There's so much to worry about and observe; I don't think I was meant for this job. Anyway, remember when 4 temporal rifts appeared before Helena and the others? Similarly, 4 rifts also appeared for James and his group, and it didn't take long for them to understand that each of them should go through one.

So, what were two quartets became four pairs. Let's start with the first one. In New York City, Lysa and Emily were together, once again the children reunited. But it's not going well because Emily refuses to speak to Lysa, she just keeps thinking and trembling while her friend has to lead her by the arm.

"Emily... what happened to you?"

It's no use asking Lysa; she won't answer, she doesn't want to answer, it's too tiring for her. Can't you see? The silent crying she emits, but be happy, Lysa, because once again, you are the responsible one in the pair. Protect her, okay? At least that, you can do.

Now, why not visit the stone desert? The place where Clark and John met. Now that's a loving pair. The two couldn't care less about each other; the things indifference causes are magnificent, even the worst of humans can be seen as a companion.

These two don't exchange words, just establish the basic "how are you?", "What should we do?", chit chat. That's their interaction, tiresome and boring to watch. Why should I bother narrating something that just annoys me? Sorry, I must be sleepy. I bet it's strange for you, isn't it? I'm not being fair to you; I mean, you're here listening to me ramble about something you might be curious about or maybe you're just random readers with no interest. You still don't know who I am, do you? Have you ever wondered? Oh, and please, don't say I'm the monk or Lily, that's so cliché. But who knows? Maybe I'm the Mother, the Father, one of the generals, one of the protagonists, or someone who hasn't appeared in the story yet. But then the question remains: How do I know all this? Hahaha, let's continue our story, shall we? I promise I'll get back to narrating properly.

In the green field, the rays of the sun bathe every lawn, so strong, shining, and beautiful. Isn't nature divine? The breeze passing by, silently, is something insignificant, even fearful, but still beautiful because the grass dances and flies in the wind's dance. It's as if it were the wind itself playing, a divine breath that nurtures and gives life to everything. Not a physical life, but the breath refreshes, revitalizes, and carries away problems.

Is this the kind of narration you wanted? Playing with words and making everything much more poetic, detailed, immersing you in this world... but too bad, it doesn't work like that around here.

In this field, James, with the sword given by the monk, meets Helena and... well, why don't we let the story tell itself?

"Helena, are you okay?" James asked while hugging his niece, relieved by her condition. However, the girl seemed shaken by something, as if something was wandering in her mind.

"I... I'm fine. And you? Did something happen?"

"Huh?" The girl's abrupt kindness surprised the older man; usually, Helena was much more gruff than this. What had happened that he missed?

"I... I..." Tears rolled down Helena's face, the guilt growing more and more in her heart. The girl couldn't hide things, nor control herself... she had to tell the truth. She needed to let it out. "I have something to tell you."

"What happened?" She told everything, about the Mother, her lineage, Criara and... about her parents. She couldn't keep that secret; it was only fair that he knew as much as she did, after all, it was his brother who had been killed by her hands. The older man was in shock, completely disbelieving what he was hearing. Would you want to hear that? That the niece you love and protect since she was little, stabbed your brother in the back... come on, tell me, what would you think in his place? Would you be able to reproduce the feelings and thoughts that pass through this man's mind?