RE:WRITE

48.0 Ignis_Chapter 7: Amusement

"This view is amazing," he said, gazing out of the passenger car at the land below.

Although I had seen a lot of amazing views and picturesque landscapes in my centuries of wandering, for some reason, this particular scene struck a very deep chord with me.

There was something calming about the rolling hills that weren't all that high but still managed to reach the clouds because of the high altitude of the ground. A stream gushed out of a hilltop covered with a low lying cloud, as if the heavens themselves were bestowing their favor upon the land. The sun shed a brilliant golden glow all over the already picturesque scene and turned it into something ethereal, perhaps bordering the divine.

"They say nature is the greatest artist of all," he said. "Looking at this, wouldn't you agree?"

I nodded.

It was like a painting. A painting with dashes of brilliant gold and deep black accentuating a landscape exemplifying everything I loved about my world. There were people living down there; all of them with their own lives, their own families, struggles, dreams and beliefs. They lived with the world around them yet did not rely on it for their survival.

I'd always admired them. Admired people, that is. But I never wanted to get involved in their stories. To get involved in their struggles, dreams and aspirations. I had never, in all those centuries of wandering aimlessly around the world, wanted to get to know someone. I had never wanted to risk being hurt again.

Because they were human. They could look up at the hills and the clouds and the stream gushing out from the heavens and think that there was something above them. They could look at the world around them and appreciate it. They could admire the scenery. They could admire the painting in front of them. They could love, dream, hate and cry.

But I couldn't. For the longest time, I couldn't admire the painting. I couldn't let myself stare at the scenery and go 'wow, that's amazing!'

Or perhaps, it wasn't that I couldn't but that I wouldn't. After I lost Jeffi and Yunni, I had let my emotions explode so powerfully that when they eventually simmered down, I was empty. An empty husk that didn't care, for the longest time, about anyone or anything else. I wouldn't let myself care about people anymore.

They could love their family. Have fun with their friends. They could live a normal life because even though there would be pain and suffering, and there would be goodbyes and farewells, that was okay... because they were human.

They didn't have to live with it forever. Their pain would end. And for most people, they would be content with death. Because they could look up at the sky and think of something above them. For them, the Goddesses were absolute. Many believed that they would become a part of their Goddess and reincarnate once again. Their Goddess would judge them based on their merits and bestow upon them salvation or punishment.

But I couldn't do that. I couldn't look up to the heavens and pray to some higher being for salvation. There was no contentment for me. No religion to comfort the reality that I faced.

Because I knew that I wasn't what people thought I was. I couldn't absorb someone's essence or soul or mana or whatever and regurgitate it according to my will. Although I didn't know for sure if I was doing it without realizing it, I felt as certain as I could be that I wasn't doing anything of the sort. These people weren't being reincarnated. They were being comforted by empty promises and dreams as intangible as the clouds that covered the hills down below.

There was no salvation. The Goddesses were useless. Our existences had no meaning beyond giving people a pipe dream to cling to or something to be afraid of.