Eternal Regret: The Immortal's Lament

Eons ago...

Jingle!

Sonorous, ephemeral wind chimes reverberated across the ether, harmonizing a symphony in a sedate zephyr that intermittently shook the wooden walls of a shed rhythmically. The distinct pitch of each chime engendered a profound serenity within the twilight that gently filtered through the pearl-white drapes, casting its enchanting elegance upon an elder who sat in deep meditation.

The elder appeared to meld with the angelic glow surrounding him, simultaneously gathering it into a radiant phosphorescent sphere at his solar plexus. Subsequently, a celestial droplet manifested above his head, descending gracefully to merge with his very soul, creating seven cascading, resplendent golden ripples that reverberated through the atmosphere with awe-inspiring vigor.

Dust particles gently descended from the dilapidated corners of the walls, akin to a spectral snowfall that curiously skirted around the elder, as though an invisible force field enveloped him, safeguarding his serenity.

The ripples, like graceful dancers, pirouetted through the tender breeze to the enchanting melody of the wind's orchestra until they reached an unsuspecting child, curiously peaking through the slightly ajar window—the crumbling window struggling to hold the child's weight.

In a moment of panic, the child frantically waved his arms, desperately seeking to disperse the uncertain ripples. Inevitability, failing to reciprocate, he let go of the window and fell with the shabby window seal in his hands. The harsh fall sent the child into a disoriented state of mind.

The child jolted up, covering his eyes with his hands as he shook his head, as well as stumbled back in an attempt to regain his senses. 

The child cautiously retreated, his very last step accompanied by a resounding SNAP! - a fragile twig had succumbed to his inadvertent pressure.

Only seconds after the echoing noise, the pressure that filled the air suddenly quivered, swiftly and vigorously condensing in the shed with a blood-curdling explosion. The once run-down shed, completely decimated, stood the elder with a golden aura flowing like a tranquil wave around his every body. His eyes, golden, met the child's. The child fell back, quaking with fear as he brandished the broken window seal toward the elder. The child, trying to talk, let out a shrill breathy exhalation of air, a futile attempt to articulate his overwhelming apprehension. 

"Child," the elder squinted. "To whom sent you?" 

The child looked at the elder, unable to speak. 

"Speak now!" The elder howled. 

The child pondered. His eyes transitioning from looking at the elder's face to the ground as he mustered words with a sharp swallow. "N-nobody sent me. I was merely passing by when I saw this shed. I- I thought it was a little out of place, so I was curious, and looked inside. It also- it also looked safe."

The elder sat in deep silence. And if one had sharp eyes, you could see a glint of pity as the elder looked at the boy. "Why is that?" The elder asked, already knowing the answer. 

"What?" The child furrowed his eyebrows, clearly perplexed.

Keeping his serene front, the elder mellowly replied, "Why did you think the shed looked safe? I'm sure you could have felt the surrounding pressure; moreover, the dilapidated state of the shed. Why did you think it was safe?" The elder had a sort of urgency for an answer. His last words filled with longing and nostalgia, as his eyes filled with hidden sorrow. However, the child thought differently. He simply thought the elder was trying to baby him. 

Though the child being too innocent to decipher the true meaning of the elder's words, he was not as foolish in perceiving the change in ambience. "Because of you," The boy dropped the window seal and childishly pointed with a warm smile. "I feel safe because of you!" The gentle breeze began to pick up, lofting fallen petals and leaves into the air, causing the elder's eyes and mouth to widen before tearing up; subsequently, the elder covered his eyes, not letting a tear be seen and laughed to himself before replying. "Haha. Yes, yes. I suppose so. What is your name, young one?"

The child glanced at the elder and bent down to the puddle that was right beneath him. The child looked at his distorted, muddied reflection and bit his lip to hinder the tears that were about to fall. He got up and walked through the puddle, his dejected expression worsened. "I don't have a name." His voice trembled. 

The elder didn't look at the child. He, instead, gritted his teeth as he walked toward the child, disregarding anything else around him. The elder extending his arm, his palm facing the child and a golden aura enveloped it. The aura emitted from his palm slowly and gently flowed to the child before touching his body with a tingling sensation. "What are you doing?" The boy cried. The elder did not respond. Instead, he used the aura to cradle the child and brought him closer before letting him down. 

The elder made faltering eye contact with the boy and scratched his collar. "How- how about I give you a name?" He said hesitantly. 

The child shook his head. "No! If you give me a name," the boy sobbed, "If you give me a name...I- I don't want to carry and burdens! I don't want to!" 

"Softly, softly now," the elder murmured, cradling the boy. "It's alright. You won't bear any burdens; I'll ensure that."

With the elder's comforting words, the child found solace. He gazed at the elder through tearful eyes, his voice quivering. "Do you really think I can be good enough?" 

In response, the elder placed the child gently on the ground, a deep pain etched in his every expression. Memories rushed in as he peered beyond the child. "I don't know," he uttered, closing his eyes. Enveloped by the tranquility of the breeze and nature's song, he struggled with his own doubts. In silence, the child, his fingers restless, awaited an answer, while the elder, wearing a nostalgic smile tinged with sadness, glanced at the ruin of the shed.

"I suppose its time for me to move on," the elder declared to the bewildered child. "Yes, you'll be more than fine." Approaching the child, he warmly patted his head. "What do you think about the name 'Aeil'?"

"It stands for—"

"Yes, yes, YES! What a cool name!" the child exclaimed, his words stumbling out in excitement.

"Hoho! Indeed, it's a wonderful name. It represents strength and a love for life and nature. I believe it suits you perfectly."

The child's eyes sparkled with a smile brighter than the sun as he crouched down next to the puddle. The elder watched, a mixture of puzzlement and curiosity clouding his expression as the child continued, gazing at his reflection. "Hi, Aeil!" the child greeted his own image in the water, a glimmer of hope in his voice. "I hope we can live a happy life!" Aeil affirmed as he ran to hug the elder. "Can I call you grandpa?" Aeil's innocence filled the air. "Now," the elder said, looking back at the shed, "Follow me, Aeil."

Aeil, noticing the elder's painful expression, wanted to ask what was wrong yet, he kept quiet as to not disturb the subtle peace; however, the elder noticed Aeil's concealed curiosity and talked. "It's nothing, really. I- I just have lots of memories tied with it. Whether the memories were happy or sad, I still cherish them anyway." 

Aeil fidgeted for a moment before voicing his question. "Why bother keeping the shed so clean if it's so old?'"

The elder snorted gently before pursuing an answer. "Memories are the threads that weave the fabric of our lives. Even if frayed or weathered, each thread holds its place in the grand design, reminding us that the past, however imperfect, enriches the beauty of our present." 

Aeil looked at the elder in confusion. He tried to figure out what the elder meant, but the answer always ended in furrowed eyebrows, head scratches, and incessant questions. "Perhaps you have a lot to learn, little one." The elder chuckled. "I'll tell you this: I have a granddaughter around your age, and she attends an elementary school in the city that lays just past the crest river—Hydrialis city. Every holiday she comes to visit me. The shed used to be our little sanctuary..." The elders expression worsened as he mumbled his last words before going completely silent. 

"Well, now you have me!" Aeil's eyes lit up as he let go of the elder's hand and ran in front of him. "I can keep you company; we could do all sorts of fun things!" Aeil leaped into a puddle, inadvertently spraying mud across the vicinity, unfortunately soiling the elder's garments. The elder extended his hand toward Aeil, who flinched in response. Aeil swiftly apologized in scared, shaky voice, yet to his surprise, the elder responded not with anger but with laughter, gently patting his head. "It's okay," the elder said In a soft, hushed voice.

Aeil, overcome with emotion, lowered his head, tears streaming down his cheeks as he sought solace within the elder's stained hanfu. The tears seemingly washed away the impurities of the garment as the elder gently raised Aeil.

"Look!" exclaimed the elder, attempting to console Aeil in an excited tone. "Welcome home!"