Page 14 of Echoes of Eternity

“With this sacrifice, we will be rid of the witch once and for all and send this monster back from where it came from!” the man sneered, his touch too familiar.

“Tread lightly, mortal. Your next move will determine the destiny of others,” I snarled.

Memories invade my senses—her steady hand on my face, the way her eyes shifted from fear to something deeper, the way the organ inside of my chest tightened and… beat as if for the first time in eons.

“We’re tired of our village becoming a battleground for titans!” the men roared in unison. Their voices echoed like a single entity, a mass mentality that blinded them to the complexities of our situation. It was easy to shout and rally against the unknown, but that same fervor only fueled their ignorance of the forces at play—forces beyond mortal understanding. They couldn’t see the larger picture, the nuances of what was truly at stake, lost in their fear and anger.

The thunderous beat of my heart drowned out their voices, their words fading into the hot winds. Our souls reached for one another, urging me to move forward despite the dangers of a god mingling with a mortal.

Time stood still as a single tear tracked down her cheek while she mouthed my name… right before the male pulled the blade across her neck, sacrificing her in the name of their false beliefs.

Everything within me went dark as my flames surged with the might of the heavens, devouring everything in its wake. I battled the village as if it was my next opponent, each move a blend of both power and divine destruction creating a dance of light and shadow that echoed through the skies.

The cries of hope from the people began to transform into despair while I continued to raze the mortal plane into ashes.

I took my time with Matsui’s husband, tearing his limbs apart and charring his flesh with the fires of my retribution. But as his last breath escaped his lungs, it wasn’t enough, not for what they dared against a deity.

The flames devoured mortal flesh, filling the air with the acrid stench of death and char. My fires swept across the village with an insatiable hunger. My blade craved further vengeance as I swung relentlessly with celestial punishment. Buildings crumbled to dust, and the very earth seemed to buckle under the weight of my wrath. The skies, once bright, were choked with ash and smoke, blotting out the sun. Every hope, every dream of the people, was turned to cinders while I unleashed my godly fury upon them.

The screams of the villagers finally faded into a haunting silence, the last flickers of flame dying with them. A desolate quiet settled over the remains. I took a tentative step forward and fell to my knees.

Amidst the smoldering ruins, I found her—my oneand only love. The sight twisted like a dagger in my chest, agony coursing through me when I took in the devastation around us. Flames danced in the shadows, but they paled in comparison to the fire of my despair. Every heartbeat echoed with the weight of what I had lost, and while I knelt beside her, the reality of her suffering clawed at my insides. How could I stand in the ashes of our dreams, knowing I had failed to protect her? The world felt impossibly heavy, and I was left grappling with the suffocating guilt and heartache that threatened to consume me whole.

The world had turned to silence as if the universe itself had paused in mourning with me. Gently, I gathered her lifeless body into my arms, the weight of my sorrow heavier than the ashes that surrounded us.

Cradling her in my embrace, the chasm inside of my chest widened, threatening to drown me in an unfamiliar emotion. Was this mortal grief? The voracious need to continue to reap destruction, coupled with the inextinguishable, impossible desire to be with her on the other side of the mortal plane.

My wings drooped while I sat there, holding an empty vessel—the body that had embodied for me the very essence of love.

Lost in the void of my grief, the air around me began to grow heavy with anticipation. From the smoldering haze emerged a figure—another Karura warrior, clad in the imposing armor of our kind. His eyes held a cold resolve.

“Rise,” he commanded, his voice echoing through the ruins. “You have been summoned.”

Reluctantly, I stood, the weight of my loss still pressing heavily upon me. He moved forward with a deliberate step, his expression stern and unreadable. With a solemn nod, he gestured for me to follow.

As we walked through the desolate landscape, the destruction seemed to deepen the silence. The warrior led me through the charred remains of what was once a village. My heart ached with every step, knowing that the divine laws I had defied were about to claim their due.

When they tried to remove her body from my arms, a primal rage surged within me. I fought against the very powers I was supposed to obediently follow, unwilling to let go of the only thing that mattered in this wreckage. Their hands felt like shackles, pulling me away from her, and I resisted with every ounce of strength I had left. My defiance echoed in the hollow air, a desperate plea against the fate that sought to tear us apart, even as the weight of my choices loomed over me like an inescapable storm.

Agony ripped through my body, but I held myself back in front of my superiors, forcing my features into a mask of composure. Each breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a reminder of the pain threatening to consume me. I could feel their disapproving gazes piercing through me, waiting for the moment I would falter.

Inside, a tempest raged—a whirlwind of grief and defiance that begged to be unleashed. I longed to scream,to fight against the injustice of it all, but I knew that any show of weakness would be met with swift retribution. So I stood there, a silent battleground of conflicting emotions, clenching my fists at my sides to stave off the urge to lash out.

Every moment stretched like an eternity. We approached a gathering of divine elders, their gazes fixed upon me with a mixture of judgment and sorrow. The atmosphere and tension in the air thickened, suffocating me—a prelude to the sentence I would face for daring to love a mortal.

Part Two

7

REIMAGINED IN INK

MAE THYDA

The rhythmic buzzof the tattoo machine filled the air, a constant hum that was both soothing and invigorating. In the dimly lit shop, the smell of antiseptic and ink mingled with the faint trace of coffee from the corner break room. The walls were adorned with a tapestry of artwork—vivid designs, intricate patterns, and bold colors, each piece a testament to the artistry and talent that thrived within these four walls.

I pushed aside the wayward strands that had escaped my hair bun as I worked, the needle dancing over my client’s skin with practiced precision. The shop was a sanctuary for me, a place where I could lose myself in the artistry of tattooing and the stories of those who walked through the door.

I had come a long way from the turbulent life I onceknew growing up in the States as a first-generation Asian refugee as well as from the haunting shadows of my past relationships. From forced assimilation into Western culture, while still trying to retain the one from the homeland, the journey to this point had been arduous. There wasn’t a handbook out there that explained the delicate balance of living multiple lives. Every step I took felt like a stumble in my ongoing battle to discover what was right for me, yet somehow it had brought me to this moment of solace.

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