I was in Seclusion for so long that everyone forgot about me

"Give it back!"

"Nooo, it’s mine now! You played with it long enough!"

"Maamii!"

I rubbed my temples. This ridiculous argument had been dragging on for what felt like forever—all over a weird toy. I would never understand how kids could find such fascination in something so mundane.

A wicked smile flashed across my face as a deliciously sinister idea took root in my mind.

'Whatever you’re thinking right now, don’t!' a voice in my head interrupted sharply.

'Hey! Don’t make it sound like they’re already dead. And for the record, I wasn’t going to do what you’re implying!' I protested indignantly.

Silence.

'Okay, fine. Maybe I thought about it. But c’mon, they’re so annoying!' I added, trying to defend myself.

'Are you seriously considering killing people just because— No, forget it. Of course, you are. You’re a monster, after all,' Aska accused, her voice dripping with disdain.

'Ouch, that hurts. I’m not as bad as you think,' I said, feigning invisible crocodile tears.

'For once, you’re right,' she retorted. 'You’re probably worse!'

I tapped my nose with my index finger. 'Correct, Sherlock!'

'Sherlock?' she echoed, confused.

'Never mind,' I replied, sighing inwardly.

------

Listening to those kids wasn’t all bad in the end. Their constant blabbering and yelling actually improved my understanding of their language—young ones tend to use simpler and more common words. Memo to self: develop a better earring…

Over time, I started piecing it together. The elven children we were traveling with—clearly being taught by the caravan—spoke both human and elvish, and the way the others talked to a certain one made it even easier to absorb the two languages together. I soaked it all in before I eventually sighed.

'Say, Aska, aren’t you going to explore the surroundings a bit? You don’t have to stay in this carriage, you know. Just roam around; you can pass through the barriers. They’re way too weak to stop you.'

The spiritual being looked at me with a deadpan expression. 'The moment I leave this carriage, everyone dies. So, I’d rather stay, thank you.'

'You care too much about those toys,' I said, waving dismissively. 'They don’t even know you’re here.'

'They don’t need to,' she countered. 'Me doing something good has nothing to do with whether I’m rewarded for it. If I am, that’s a bonus—nothing more.'

I snickered. 'Do you really think you could stop me if I intended to harm them?'

'Wouldn’t that ruin your plans?' she asked, her tone sharp.

I stared off into the middle distance. 'I have time. Everything repeats itself anyway. There will be changes and new stories, but in the end, we’ll end up back where we started. What happened this time is definitely unique, but who’s to say it won’t happen again? Destroying everything wouldn’t ruin my plans; it would only annoy me.'

I was about to close my eyes for a moment of peace when Aska said something that made my blood simmer. 'Didn’t you just tell me a few hours ago about rules you have to abide by? What happened to them? Did you lie?'

With a flick of my hand, everyone in the armored carriage fell silent. Their eyes emptied, their movements ceased—they stood still as if frozen in time.

'What did you do?!' Aska screamed, outrage evident in her voice.

I opened my hand, and a few seconds later, white, luminescent energy gathered above my palm. Its texture resembled a weightless cloud, visible only to those with the gift of soul magic or sight.

Aska gasped. 'You had no right to do this! You took their souls!'

I split the soul cloud into two condensed orbs and rotated them clockwise, like yin-yang balls spinning in my hand.

'Why?' I said, monotone. 'Life and death—these rules are mere tools to me. Death isn’t a concept that applies to me. I am dying yet undying. Even if I "kill" something, as long as their souls remain intact, I can recreate them. Stronger, faster, better, or exactly as they were before. Life is a plaything to me; bodies are simple puppets for my use. Life yields to me. Death yields to me. Kings yield to me. Even gods yield to me.'

'Just because you can doesn’t mean you should!' Aska retorted, her voice frantic. 'It’s wrong—it’s basic ethics!'

I laughed, hollow and sharp. 'Ethics, you say? Tell me, Aska, is a golem summoned by magic alive to you? Is an automaton, crafted from ores and gears, alive to you?'

Her spectral form froze as she stared at me, baffled. She pondered for a long moment before grudgingly replying, 'I… I can’t answer that. I don’t know. I can’t even begin to fathom the concept of souls. Where do they come from? How were they created in the first place? And—even if it’s hard to admit this right now—is something that lacks a soul truly dead? Can a soulless being gain—or regain—a soul? I can’t tell. So my answer is only maybe, nothing more.'

I regarded her thoughtfully and said, 'I believe your words.'

With a simple thought, I released the souls. They flowed back to their bodies like gentle wisps, and as if nothing had happened, the noisy chaos of the carriage returned.

'Thank you...' Aska whispered.

'I didn’t do it for you,' I replied, waving her off. 'Your words reminded me of someone, that’s all.'

Contrary to what I had expected, she gave me a faint, weary smile before phasing through the carriage wall, just as I had suggested, to explore the surroundings.

I took a deep breath and stared at the ring on my finger. 'What am I even doing? Death yields to me? Don’t make me laugh...'

------

At some point, I tuned out most of the voices around me. I had already learned the basics of their language, and without books, I wouldn’t gain much more insight. Still, the adults telling stories to the kids proved somewhat useful. The tales weren’t particularly exciting, but they provided glimpses into the state of the empire and the folklore of this region.

Aska had returned a while ago, now lazily drifting around the empty woods outside. No monster would dare come close, not with my aura looming over the area.

'Did anything interesting happen outside?' I asked her.

She shrugged. 'Nothing of note. We’re still deep in the woods. From what I can tell, it’ll be a few more hours before we reach the next village to rest for the day. And in here?'

'Nothing that would surprise you. Apparently, humans messed up as usual. From what I’ve gathered, some peculiar events transpired. The capital we’re heading to is called King’s Garden. It was founded by the twelfth generation of so-called heroes around six or seven millennia ago. Over time, it became the capital of the human empire due to its rich environmental mana. They cleared the entire heart of the forest in the process and—of course—stumbled upon my hideout by sheer coincidence. They weren’t even looking for it.'

I clicked my tongue. 'A few heroes tried to get in but failed. To this day, none of them have even scratched the barrier created by my wards. A bunch of weaklings, if you ask me.'

Aska snickered. 'I remember your wards. Annoying, but nothing that couldn’t be destroyed with brute force.'

Throwing my hands up, I startled the elf sitting next to me. 'Right? Exactly! They’re making such a big deal out of it. That said, the magic I used for those… “baits,” let’s call them, is uncommon among humans and most other races. And Aska, you don’t count—you and your ash magic are annoyingly unique. Always disrupting the delicate fabric of magic lines and crystallizing them. Sadly, after your death, no capable ash mage was left for me to experiment on, so I couldn’t fix the errors.'

'Oh?' Aska’s voice carried a smirk. 'I didn’t know you held my magic in such high esteem.' Her tone turned downright gleeful and I could practically feel her shit-eating grin. 'Wait, does that mean I’m the strongest—and probably only—ash mage in this world right now? Oh, the families won’t know what hit them!'

I chuckled mentally. 'Hold your horses, Aska. We haven’t even reached the first destination on our journey, and you’re already fantasizing about destroying those bastards who think I’m evil incarnate.'

'But you are,' she reminded me matter-of-factly.

'Might be true, but it’s still rude of you to assume!' I retorted, feigning indignation. 'You could at least deny it or something. I’m trying to build some sort of bond here—maybe even become best friends.'

Aska rolled her eyes—well, figuratively. 'Yeah, not gonna happen. We’re business partners, and that’s it. I help you, you help me. Speaking of which, can you continue? I want to know more about this place we’re heading to.'

I sighed. 'You’re such a killjoy. Fine. Where was I? Oh, right. The magic I used for my wards isn’t commonly practiced or accepted in human nations. Speaking of nations, it seems most of the races split up and established their own territories. There are exceptions, but unfortunately, they—'

'Do you think there’s a map in this carriage?' Aska interrupted.

'With so many young elves here? Probably,' I replied. 'Anyway, not everyone in the imperial capital is human. There are elves, as you can plainly see, dwarves, and, unfortunately, enslaved beast-kin. The reason for that is a treaty with the elven and dwarven empires, mainly concerning trade, borders, and mutual recognition. Humanity even passed an anti-enslavement law to show its so-called benevolence. If you’re caught owning slaves, you’re sentenced to death.'

'Then what’s the problem?' Aska asked skeptically.

'The law only applies to elves and dwarves,' I explained. 'Beast-kin slaves? Still fair game. Totally legal.'

Aska drifted through the carriage, observing the elves as they went about their tasks. 'It’s sad how many humans have this superiority complex,' she mused. 'Even back in my time, I had to execute countless vassals for their crimes against beast-kin. Is it because of their animal features? Do they think that makes them lesser beings? In that way, they’re no different from those high elves who consider themselves the most beloved.'

I nodded in agreement. 'That’s why I’ve always had a soft spot for the high moon elves. I still don’t know how they ended up in such a poor state. Some kind of ploy, no doubt. As for other races, like the naga and lamia, most of them just called a truce with the humans. They don’t care enough about these laughable monkeys to go to war and waste their time.'

I paused, a random thought distracting me. 'Honestly, I’ve no idea what lamias or nagas do in their free time. Laying eggs, I guess? Wait… is it speciesist to say that? I hope not; I like those snakey women. Ohh, those tails, they can reach the dee—stop, stop, stop. Let’s not go down that rabbit hole.'

Aska rolled her eyes, her expression deadpan, the look clearly stating, 'Lamia? Really? I’m not even surprised.'

I cleared my throat awkwardly. 'Um, right. Where was I? Oh, yeah, races. From what I’ve gathered, the only ones in open war with humans are the Ninki Nanka, the Taniwha, and the Ashen Realm, also known as the Demon Empire. Humans fighting demons is so stereotypical it’s almost boring. But pissing off not one, but two deep-sea creature clans? That’s practically suicide if you rely on sea trade. You don’t mess with what crawls in the endless cold waters.'

Aska raised a spectral hand, as though in a classroom. 'Wait. Aren’t Ninki Nanka supposed to live in swamps? Oh Goddess, they drained the swamps, didn’t they? Idiots.'

'Yeah,' I confirmed with a sigh. 'I don’t know why they thought that was a good idea. Ninki Nanka were already enormous. Now that they’ve moved to the sea because their natural habitat got destroyed, they’ll probably grow as big as leviathans.'

Aska shuddered, her translucent form visibly uneasy. I couldn’t blame her. Even I hated the deep sea and the creatures that lurked there. That part of the world was basically untouchable, even for me. Not to mention, this region was her domain, and I still had a debt to repay.

'Aren’t you surprised humans and demons are at war?' I asked, breaking the silence.

She waved a dismissive hand. 'Nah, that shit was already brewing when I was alive. I bet the capital profits quite nicely from the wars.'

She wasn’t wrong. War always had a lucrative side for someone, no matter the era. It was infuriating. Back then, it didn’t matter how much technology they had—they were never satisfied. Always hungry for what they couldn’t have. Always clinging to beliefs that suppressed instead of accepting others. And yet, they acted so shocked when we turned against them. Laughable.

I realized, with a pang of annoyance, that I was recalling things I wasn’t supposed to. I was about to retreat into my inner world to deal with it when the eldest child in the caravan caught my attention, speaking with one of the elven women. 

The girl looked to be around fourteen and was apparently sponsored by Marika’s company. That sponsorship allowed her to attend the Royal Academy, which would soon start its new semester. For the oppressed moon elves, this seemed to be one of the few paths to overcoming their circumstances.

"Auntie Kila, could you tell me the story about Eternal again? I have some specific questions about certain parts now that I’m about to enter the academy," the girl asked eagerly.

'Oh, seems like Eternal made a name for herself!' snickered Aska in my head.

Kila smiled warmly. "Okay, okay. Do you want me to tell you the whole story again, or just the parts you have questions about?"

"Hmm, just the parts I need!" the girl replied, practically bouncing in her seat. "Like, it’s said that Eternal was an Origin, but where did she come from in the first place? The gods didn’t summon her, so who did?"

"That’s a tricky question, not gonna lie. Like many others in the Order of Amethyst, we’re still philosophizing to this day about where the Origin originally came from. Unlike reincarnators or heroes summoned from another world by the gods, Eternal is believed to be the first person to enter this world through a wild dimensional rift. These rifts are extremely rare. In the history of our Order, only two have ever been documented. But who knows how many actually occurred?" the elf explained thoughtfully.

'Origin?' I asked myself. 'What’s that supposed to mean?'

"Wow! I didn’t know about those rifts. That sounds amazing! Couldn’t we just, like, go through them and explore the other si—"

Kila cut her off firmly. "If it were as simple as that, the humans—or any other power-hungry nation—would have done so already. But they haven’t. The Order speculates these rifts are one-way only. There’s a chance they might also work in reverse, but so far, we’ve found no evidence to support that."

Kila paused for a moment, then leaned in closer to her niece, her tone growing somber. "The next thing I’ll tell you is something you mustn’t blabber to the wrong people. The human church might brand you a heretic and burn you at the stake. But I’ll share it with you because I believe in keeping this knowledge alive—and because I think you’re a smart, responsible girl."

'What do you make of that?' Aska asked curiously.

'About Eternal being the first in this world? Feels a bit far-fetched, no?' I replied.

Aska shook her head. 'No, not that. You’re far older than her—how is it even possible for her to be the first? I mean, these rifts… are they real?'

I nodded, which earned me a puzzled look from the elf beside me. 'They are real, but Eternal didn’t come through one of them. It must’ve been one of the other so-called Origins. Let’s see what more this elf has to say. Also, Kila’s phrasing everything like she’s about to drop dead and needs to pass on some dangerous secret that could get her niece killed. Even I can see how irresponsible that is.'

Aska silently agreed but added, 'Maybe that’s the point? She’s trying to scare her niece enough to be cautious—even if she makes human friends who might betray her. It might sound paranoid, but the risk is real. If things go wrong, she could still be sold as a slave.'

What Aska said made a surprising amount of sense. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much time to dwell on it. Instead, we both turned our attention back to the conversation between the two elves.

Kila leaned in close to the elven girl and spoke in hushed tones. "We believe the Origins were never chosen by this world. They were just people who stumbled into it and gained powerful abilities. Some of us even think the other Origins—paraded as heroes to this day—never truly defeated Eternal as the stories claim."

The girl’s mouth parted, a stunned gasp escaping her lips. "B-but that would go against the t-teachings of all major gods! Against the System, against everything we know!"

'System, huh? So it’s common knowledge after all,' I mused silently.

Kila’s face grew grim. "There are reasons why we believe this. The Old Ones—the most ancient beings known to us—tell a different story. Among them is one they call 'The Forgotten One.' We believe it to be the first deity of this world, even before what our Order calls the 'New Gods.' Something monumental must have happened. Otherwise, why would its worship be forbidden across this continent? Why is it the only one without a name? What happened to erase all known records of it?"

"A-auntie, y-you’re scaring me," the young elf stammered, her gaze avoiding Kila’s.

Kila sighed. "It’s fine if you don’t believe me yet. I won’t judge you for that. Just always keep an open mind for the impossible, okay?"

The girl nodded hesitantly, and Kila patted her head. "Now, do you have more questions?"

"A-actually, yes. D-do you have any idea why our continent has the most variety of mana beasts? No other continent comes close, and I’m sure this will come up at the academy."

"Sadly, no," Kila admitted. "There are theories, but none that make sense or have been proven. I ca—"

I interrupted with a smirk, swiftly moving to stand directly before them despite the cramped interior. "Perhaps I can help answer that particular question."

"Wh-what? Did our honored guest overhear our conversation?" Kila asked meekly.

"Indeed, I heard everything. But don’t worry—I won’t spill your secrets. In fact, you’ve piqued my interest. To satisfy my curiosity, I’ll share some of my knowledge in return. How does that sound?"

Kila stepped in front of the child protectively, her posture radiating maternal care. The gesture amused me. Pretentious, I thought. She thinks she can protect her when, in reality, they’ve already lost their souls to me once.

Still, something about the scene unsettled me. Caring for one another like that—what a waste of time. Ignoring her defiance, I refocused on the conversation.

"You know, little one," I began, "I was there when the first mana beast was created. The fools tried to use it to overwhelm Eternal. And from what you’ve said, you might be under a misconception about how old mana beasts truly are. They existed long before Eternal, the heroes, and even the Old Ones you revere. But back then, they weren’t threats to fear—they were like herbs in a garden, waiting to be harvested."

The two elves froze in shock. Even Aska’s presence radiated unease.

It was Kila who broke the silence, her voice trembling. "H-herbs? F-for what purpose would anyone do that?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don’t be naive. Herbs can be used for many things, can’t they?"

The younger elf answered hesitantly, "Food, potions, ale, salves… and other things?"

"Exactly," I replied with a smile. "And what does every race do with herbs, as well as the animals they keep?"

"Cultivate," Kila whispered, her disbelief palpable. "Mana beasts… were cultivated. Everyone knows about the legendary things created from their body parts. But for what purpose—"

I interrupted again. "And that is the key to your question. This continent has the most mana beasts because it’s where it all began. This was the garden, but the herbalists’ ultimate goal was never achieved. When they abandoned their work, the beasts were left to their own devices. Eternal simply found a different kind of potential in them."

The girl looked at me, her voice shaky. "But isn’t that cruel? Leaving such a plague in the world? Some mana beasts evolved minds of their own, but many live on pure hunger and lust. Why let that exist?"

I shrugged. "It stopped caring. Maybe it never cared to begin with. Its goal—whatever it was—failed."

The girl swallowed nervously. "B-but how do you know all this, honored guest? This must have been—"

"—eons ago?" I finished for her. "Yes, it was. I witnessed the tragic end. I saw their work, their hopes, their beliefs crumble into failure after failure until only void remained. I wasn’t the only one to see it. That Forgotten One you mentioned was probably one of them, along with that lying witch… and her."

'Wait, what? That bitch was there too?' Aska burst out in my mind.

'Duh. That dimensional-hopping demon had a front-row seat when it all went down' I replied dryly.

"Are you talking about Calypso?" Kila asked cautiously.

I nodded. Her mouth fell open in disbelief. "You knew the Mother of Witches?"

"Knew?" I echoed, confused. "Did she die?"

Kila hesitated. "Oh… you didn’t know? Her daughters turned against her. Nobody knows exactly what happened—only what the oracles claimed the gods announced."

‘Ah,’ I mused to Aska. 'Utter bullshit. If I couldn’t kill her, her daughters sure as hell couldn’t. This is just another of her schemes.'

"Why are you smiling?" the young elf asked, her voice trembling.

I smirked. "She and I were never on good terms. It’s just… amusing to think someone managed to succeed where I failed. The world keeps getting more exciting by the second."

The horror etched on the elves’ faces was delicious. Though my cryptic answers had only unsettled them further, I wasn’t finished yet. My curiosity about this world was far from sated.

A wicked grin spread across my face. "So, would you two be so kind as to tell me about the major events of the last few centuries? The gods, the changes, the power structures… all of it."

Yes, yes. Tell me everything. I will relish learning how this world has shifted, what it has built, and how I will tear it apart again.

Just wait, Anansi. This time, I will find a way…