Chapter 8 – The Day I Opened My Eyes Again
When I awoke, this world did not greet me gently.
It spun.
Not like the dizziness from standing up too fast, but as if existence itself had been shaken, then poorly stitched back together. My head was unbearably heavy, as if filled with stones. My body burned from within, every nerve protesting. My throat was dry and raw, and when I swallowed, a harsh taste spread in my mouth salt, iron, bitterness.
Seawater.
Blood.
Something cold and cruel combined.
I gasped for breath.
The air tore into my lungs, feeling both painful and alien. I coughed weakly, my chest tightening as if it still didn't understand how to breathe.
So this is birth?
The thought came to me clearly, and it frightened me more than death.
I felt as if I had been ripped from something warm and boundless, and thrust into something small, harsh, and unbearably fragile. My body felt wrong too light, too weak, too defined. I tried to clench my fist, but my fingers refused to obey, trembling like leaves in the wind.
Birth is hard, I slowly realized.
It's worse than dying.
When I had died before, there had been pain but there had also been release. This was different. This was loss. I felt as if everything I once was strength, awareness, control had been stripped away in a single, merciless moment.
And yet…
Beneath that weakness, there was something else.
Vigor. Life surged violently through me; it was both natural and overwhelming, as if something had forcibly fitted my soul into this fragile new body, challenging it to survive. My heart pounded fast and loud. My blood rushed like a flood through narrow channels.
I slowly turned my head.
My vision blurred, then cleared.
Three figures stood near me.
The first was an old man so thin he looked like crumpled paper stretched over bones. His back was hunched, his skin dry and cracked, yet his eyes were sharp, alert, and frighteningly alive.
The second was an old woman. Her face was etched with deep lines of age, but her posture was firm. There was gentleness in her gaze, mixed with something very powerful an authority born of experience. The third person was neither kind nor cruel. Lean. With piercing eyes. His gaze examined everything, missing nothing. He looked at me as a general surveys a battlefield.
I stared at them.
Who were they…?
Fear crawled up my spine.
I tried to move my legs.
They moved very slowly.
Fear spread through my body like fire.
Where was I?
As far as my weak neck allowed, I turned my head again, looking around at my surroundings.
Leaves.
Countless leaves.
Roots snaked across the ground like coiled serpents. The trunks of dense trees rose endlessly upwards, obscuring the sky. The air was damp with the smell of wet earth, moss, and something ancient the scent of something that had been alive long before me.
This is not a house.
This is not a city.
This is not my world.
My thoughts were confused.
Was I born in a forest?
In a tribal land?
In a clan hidden somewhere far from civilization?
What is this place?
What is happening?
I tried to speak.
"Ya"
The words wouldn't come out.
Only a weak, broken sound emerged.
The effort immediately exhausted me. My body went limp and trembled from even that small exertion. I felt hands on me gentle, familiar hands. Someone cradled my head and lifted it gently.
Then something warm touched my lips.
A liquid.
Milk.
Thick. Sweet. Rich.
My instincts took over before my thoughts could interfere. I drank greedily, my small body clinging to the nourishment as if it were the only thing holding me together. The warmth spread quickly through my chest, easing the irritation and calming the turmoil within me.
My breathing steadied.
My eyelids grew heavy.
So tired…
As sleep overtook me again, my consciousness drifted to a deeper place.
To a familiar place.
I stood once more beneath the Mother Tree.
Its presence enveloped me like a longed for embrace. A soft green light illuminated everything, gentle and alive. For a moment, the pain in my body vanished, replaced by peace.
"Why am I like this?" I asked quietly.
Why was I reborn?
The mist slowly gathered.
The woman of darkness appeared vast, ethereal, her form shifting like a living shadow. She looked at me with eyes that held both beginnings and endings.
"You are where you are meant to be," she replied silently.
This body is weak, but your path is not.
"What must I do?" I asked.
"Rest," she replied.
Even gods begin as children.
Her presence faded, and darkness enveloped me once more.
When I awoke again, the air felt different.
Heavier.
Charged with a kind of energy.
I felt it before I saw it.
Everyone around me suddenly bowed their heads.
The forest seemed to hold its breath.
Footsteps approached slow, deliberate, carrying a weight beyond sound. Each step felt like a pressure on my chest.
Someone important had arrived.
I weakly turned my head.
An old man stood before me.
He was tall for his age. His hair was white, and his face was etched with deep lines from years of suffering and character. Pain was etched on his face.
Though his appearance was simple, his presence was awe inspiring, like a mountain weathered by storms yet unbroken.
He looked at me.
Then
He knelt.
Everyone else bowed even lower, their heads touching the ground in reverence.
The old man touched my forehead with trembling hands.
Tears flowed. Lukewarm.
Genuine.
"My grandson…" he murmured, his voice completely broken.
I froze.
Grandson?
The word echoed inside me, heavy and confusing.
I didn't understand.
But the emotion in his voice that unadulterated, unconcealed, overflowing emotion pierced something deep within me. His shoulders shook as he struggled to breathe.
"I thought the sea had taken you," he said softly.
"I thought our lineage was over."
His tears fell on my skin, and something within me responded to them.
Not memory.
Not logic.
Blood.
I didn't know this man.
I didn't know this world.
Yet somehow I felt safe.
My small hand moved on its own, my weak fingers fumbling to wrap around his. The moment I touched him, his breath hitched.
The forest seemed to sigh.
The old man closed his eyes and gently pressed his forehead against mine.
"You are alive," he murmured. "Then our future is also alive."
I didn't understand his words.
But I understood this
Whatever this place was.
However this life would unfold.
I was no longer alone.
For the first time since I opened my eyes, I allowed myself to rest without fear.