Bound By Fate

The Eternal Wait

Sora had never been so quiet. The once vibrant realm of gods, brimming with light and laughter, was now cloaked in a pall of grief. The skies remained perpetually gray, and the air carried the weight of unshed tears. At the heart of it all, in her solitary chamber, sat Goddess Freen.

Her radiant form was dimmed, her once-bright eyes now hollow pools of sorrow. She clutched a single lock of Becky's hair, the only piece of her left behind after her vanishing. Freen whispered into the emptiness, "I will wait for you... however long it takes."

The gods of Sora mourned alongside her. Flowers in the divine gardens wilted, and the streams of the celestial rivers ran dry. Even the Almighty had lowered his gaze in reverence to Freen's pain. Yet, none felt the weight as deeply as Goddess Wanviva.

Wanviva bore her guilt like a crown of thorns. The curse she had cast was irreversible, and the sight of her niece's broken spirit haunted her endlessly. In an act of atonement, Wanviva approached Freen with the magical syrup-a relic that could erase pain, offering peace to the grieving.

Freen stared at the vial in her aunt's trembling hands. Her lips quivered as she spoke, her voice raw. "You think this will erase her? That I'll drink this and forget her face, her voice, her love?" She pushed the vial away. "No. I will not forget her, not ever. Take it back."

Wanviva hesitated, her own eyes glistening with tears. "Freen, I-I only wanted to ease your burden."

Freen stood, her posture regal yet fragile. "Then share my burden, Aunt. Carry this guilt with me. And when the day comes, when she is born again, help me protect her."

Wanviva nodded silently, her heart breaking further. From that day forward, the magical syrup remained locked in Wanviva's chambers, untouched and abandoned, a testament to her promise to Freen.

---

Years Passed in Sora

Time moved differently in the divine realm. Days turned into centuries, yet for Freen, each moment felt like an eternity. She spent countless hours gazing into the celestial pool, watching over the human world. She waited for a sign, for the day Becky's soul would return.

Wanviva, too, never stopped waiting. She tended to Freen in silence, ensuring her niece never felt alone. Every day, she prayed to the Almighty for Becky's rebirth and Freen's happiness.

Finally, after what felt like an age, the pool shimmered with an otherworldly light. Freen rushed to its edge, her heart pounding. In its depths, she saw a newborn girl swaddled in a simple cloth. The child's cry echoed through the divine halls.

Freen gasped, tears spilling down her cheeks. "It's her... It's really her."

Wanviva appeared beside her, her face filled with equal parts relief and sorrow. "She has returned, but the curse remains. Her life will not be easy."

"I don't care," Freen said firmly, her hands clutching the edges of the pool. "I will watch over her. I will protect her. She may face challenges, but I will not let her suffer."

The child, named Mon by her human parents, was born into a modest family in a small town. From the moment of her birth, the curse began to weave its threads around her. She faced illnesses as an infant, rejection as she grew, and hardships that seemed to arise from nowhere.

Freen watched it all, her heart breaking with every trial. She whispered blessings into the winds, sending small moments of relief-a stranger's kindness, a sudden stroke of luck, or a faint feeling of comfort on Mon's darkest days.

"She's strong," Wanviva said one day as she stood beside Freen, watching the child.

"She shouldn't have to be," Freen replied bitterly. "She deserves peace, happiness, and love. And I will make sure she gets it."

Wanviva placed a hand on Freen's shoulder. "You cannot interfere too much. Her life, cursed as it may be, is hers to live. But I will help you protect her from the shadows. We owe her that much."

As Mon grew older, the challenges only intensified. Bullies, betrayals, and unforeseen tragedies marked her path. Each time, Freen's rage burned brighter, her divine power crackling through the heavens. She longed to descend to Earth, to cradle Mon in her arms and shield her from the world.

Yet, she held back, knowing that too much interference could unravel the fragile balance of fate. Instead, she whispered into Mon's dreams, her voice a soft balm for the girl's weary soul.

"I am here," she murmured. "You are never alone."

Wanviva watched her niece with growing admiration. Freen's love was boundless, her patience unwavering. And though guilt still weighed heavily on Wanviva, she found solace in knowing that Becky's soul-now Mon-was never truly alone.

..........