Life is such a beautiful thing.
Like a snowflake, melting with a touch of warm hand.
It can take many different forms: white, delicate snowflakes beautifully drifting along the wind, or some blue resting on top of a frozen river.
Such small things can even band together to make snow and cluster up even more on a mountain, decorating such humongous crusts with a great blanket as far as the eye can see.
Sometimes, too much can create a grand avalanche. That is the image one might see when they hear of this poor, poor soul's fate as he is currently washing his clothes-
???:
" Aaarggghh, damn SHUT IT! You stupid narrator!!"
Yet another example of its many forms, this 23-year-old snowflake has reddened a bit.
???:
"Snowflake this, snowflake that, I don't care! It could even be a path for all I care... a thorny one though... "
This young lad's name is-
Amamuren:
"MY name is Amamuren. Male, 23. I was walking home - towards the empty shell that is my shelter, and suddenly ended up in this place years ago." He looked up, annoyed that the narrator was introducing him without permission.
Amamuren:
"…I do seem to have turned into quite the handsome fellow, though. Mhm, mhm…" He continued.
He looked at himself in a small hand-held mirror and admired his long black hair: part tied, part let loose to look cooler. His outfit: long black clothes with a white dragon symbol. His cheeky smile could probably make most female gorillas fall for hi-
Amamuren:
"Please… just stop talking…"
.
.
.
After properly washing his spare clothes, he eventually got up and walked down the mountain he currently inhabited. Two years.
The leaves swayed in the strong gust of wind, and Amamuren's hair flowed like an endless vortex. Meanwhile, as he took strides down the mountain, in the distance, there 'stood' a man. The wind trembled... birds, snakes, and animals of all kinds were running away from the man standing on a sword and flying through the sky.
Fighting a humongous flying lizard with wings 10 meters long, he kept shaking the earth, the heavens, and the very man gazing at the scene - Amamuren. Though by now, it's basically an everyday thing...
Fast forward, after much panting and stumbling, he reached a village at the bottom of the mountain. People stared at him: some with curiosity, some with admiration, and, of course, plenty of death stares from fellow men.
Amamuren looked around and questioned why people were staring at him.
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"Hello, may I know your name?" a woman asked, stepping forward from the crowd, curious about what kind of reply she'd receive from the handsome man.
Amamuren turned to her. His black eyes locked onto hers. His tall figure and gallant robes radiated a majestic aura, commanding presence, and-
Droop~. His gaze fell. Face red as a tomato, sweat pouring like heavy rain. Ah yes. No matter how handsome someone becomes, it's hard to hide the fact that they have zero experience with women. Nay, correction, zero experience with any conversation whatsoever.
Everyone watching felt a wave of second-hand embarrassment, shielding their eyes from the spectacle.
Amamuren bowed and escaped ot his home with a strong power walk.
...Night came. Back at his small hut on the mountain. Amamuren stood over a well close to his place, decorated with some rocks and a nice-looking windlass over it, and a small roof over everything. A bucket of water was neatly placed next to Amamuren on top of the well's wall. He was thinking about something as he stared deeply into the darkness of the hole, his black eyes reflecting the void.
At that moment, a memory suddenly swooshed into his mind: the encounter with the lady. At the same time, another thought overlapped: that familiar, dark call of the void.
Of course, both just had to overlap…
Without further thinking, he leapt into the well. Head first. Neck second. Chest third. Toes fourth. Stomach fifth. Buttocks sixth. All while his arms crossed. A weird falling position, not gonna lie.
Amamuren:
"…Why did I even do that…" He wasn't referring to the idiocy he just committed, but rather the conversation with the girl.
After cooling off (and dirtying the water), he dried himself with a towel and collapsed onto his "bed": cotton stuffed with grass.
Morning arrived.
Amamuren had been pacing in circles for three hours when a cry split the air.
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"WHY?!"
The voice was enraged, desperate, and full of grief.
Amamuren sneakily peeked from behind a tree. By the river sat a man, clutching his hair, eyes swollen with tears, curled into a fetal position.
After a while, that strange man got up and soon spotted another person sitting nearby, calmly sipping from a mug. His black hair flowed beautifully in the wind. The unknown man felt that he had seen such a handsome man before.
Amamuren:
"I heard you were crying." He calmly said while gazing into the distance. His voice was indifferent.
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"…I'm sorry…" The man looked down and started to walk away.
Amamuren:
"Let me hear your story, my friend. Tell me your name."
The man paused, then turned. He remembered. He saw Amamuren trembling before… Yes, he was among the crowd when that incident happened. However, right now his aura was completely different, his demeanor like polished steel.
Mu Haoran:
"My name is Mu Haoran. This will take a while. Is that alright?" He asked back modestly.
Amamuren:
"I am Amamuren, nice to meet you. And of course. I'm all ears."
The unknown man paused and thought for a moment. He mustered up the courage and began to speak.
Mu Haoran:
"...My closest friend… he has been with me since we were children. We shared bread, blood, and dreams. We've overcome many life and death situations together. I developed my skills, polished my energy, and created new cultivation methods, sharing them with my precious brother. Yet... he sold me out to an enemy for money."
His fists trembled as he clenched them hard.
Mu Haoran:
"And the worst part? He came back. Crawling. With sacks of gold. Said he regretted it. Begged me to forgive him. Even shoved most of the money into my hands as if silver could buy back what he destroyed."
He spat into the dirt.
Mu Haoran:
"And everyone around me… they all said, 'Take it. He's sorry. Be friends again. It's not worth holding a grudge.' But how can I?"
The air tightened with his fury.
Amamuren, sitting cross-legged on a rock, raised a brow. He tilted his mirror to catch his reflection, smoothing his hair as if the drama in front of him was background music. Finally, he looked up.
Amamuren:
"You know what that money is worth?" He asked.
Mu Haoran:
"…What do you mean?"
Amamuren:
"It's worth nothing... It really is just blood turned into coin. A shovel of dirt to cover a grave. A bribe to your heart. If you take it as a sign of regret, fine. But if you take it as payment for friendship, then you've sold yourself cheap."
Mu Haoran froze, the words hitting harder than any blade.
Amamuren stood, dusting off his black robes.
Amamuren:
"There's forgiveness, and there's reconciliation. Forgiveness is for your own soul, so you don't rot with hate. But reconciliation? That's trust. And trust, once shattered, can't be mended by gold. You can forgive him… but you don't have to stand by his side again."
Silence lingered. Only the wind dared to answer, rustling the leaves.
Mu Haoran closed his eyes, trembling, then exhaled.
Mu Haoran:
"…Forgive, but not return. He'll have my forgiveness, but never my trust." Mu Haoran looked up. He knew this deep down, but not having anyone take his side did a number on him. Tears welling up in his red eyes.
Amamuren's lips curled into that half-smile, half-smirk of his.
Amamuren:
"Good. If money could buy trust, I'd already be surrounded by friends. Instead, I've got a hut, a mirror, and a well I jump into for fun."
The tension cracked. Mu Haoran chuckled weakly through the tears. He embraced the wind, gave strength to his legs, pulled up his body, and put his leg forward. He left with a small voice that echoed in the breeze: "Thank you" and "Goodbye." Leaving a book on the rock Amamuren sat on.
Amamuren looked up. He saw a beautiful sky, a sky that he would reach one day. He looked down at the ground he currently stood on - he chuckled. He looked towards his shed and closed his eyes. "I guess it's time to say goodbye as well."