Truth and Family: A God's Journey

"Who are you?" Asahi asked as the circle glowed brighter, the thrums growing heavier by the second, a halo shining on his person.

"Who are we...?" The priest intoned, clutching a black book. "We are the Cult of Achlys, those who have loved this world from the start. Born from the ashes of ancient strife, we emerged in the quiet corners of forgotten temples, drawn together by visions of a world purged of turmoil. It was the divine whispers of Achlys that united us, guiding us to her sacred texts and rituals."

All eyes fixed on him as he raised his hands.

"We believe Achlys, the primordial embodiment of love, is the key to restoring balance and purity to our tainted existence. Her resurrection is crucial to the cleansing of this world and the elimination of the chaos brought by the Black Flood from Outside."

He drew a sharp breath and pressed on.

"We serve her. And you, unfortunately, stand in the way of her return. Feeble predecessor."

Everyone tensed, poised for what could come next. Asahi felt a jolt of surprise and confusion as he tried to make sense of how deeply his mother, Achlys, was revered, and how strange it was to hear her mentioned by these people in such a solemn manner.

His mind flashed back to a memory of his mother teaching him in their sunlit garden. "Remember, Asahi," Achlys had once told him with a gentle smile, "true strength comes from love and kindness, not fear."

The scent of fresh jasmine filled the air as she guided him, her voice soothing and filled with hope. He had always cherished these lessons, absorbing them into the very core of his being.

(Are they talking about... my mom?)

Asahi's heart twisted with a mix of longing and dread. Internally, he struggled to reconcile the teachings from his mother, filled with kindness and hope, with the cult's warped vision.

He remembered especially when she told him, "Love strengthens even the smallest seeds,"

A wave of fear clawed at Asahi as understanding set in—he knew, deep down, that his mother would never condone the darkness before him. The realization left him shaky and numb inside.

"And some seeds are destined to grow eternally." She said.

That's when something struck open.

(Achlys would never agree to this.) Asahi thought.

Flooded with memories, Asahi recognized with growing anger and sadness how the cult had distorted his mother's cherished values, mangling everything she had taught him into something monstrous.

He recalled how she emphasized harmony and understanding over fear, her vision of love uplifting rather than binding.

Yet, here he was, confronted by a cult twisting those very teachings.

He clenched his fists, remembering her warmth amid the cult's coldness.

Longing battled with fear inside Asahi, his mind reeling as the cult's presence forced him to question all he believed about love and the legacy his mother left him.

"This isn't what she would have wanted," he whispered, trembling but growing steadier as dread battled with conviction. "She taught me to value balance, not see love twisted into darkness." His voice hardened as ritual chaos mounted, resolve overtaking anxiety.

. . .

Then, another vision flickered.

When Asahi had gathered near a cliff, staring at the ocean, Young Asahi had something to ask.

"Mom." He said. "What does recovery mean?"

Achlys sat next to him, free from the struggles of life, and decided to speak her heart out, saying as the waves crashed on the shore.

"Recovery… Recovery, my little Asahi, is the redemption from past mistakes and the ability to learn from them, allowing one to move forward. It isn't true recovery if you redeem nothing, so as not to spiral into another direct chart…"

She playfully spiraled her finger down to the dirt, showing a tiny explosion erupting beneath her fingers. "...so off-course, you don't know what your darkness is. Heh heh."

​As the sun slowly rose from the glowing horizon, little Asahi sat on Achlys' lap, and she began to speak profound truths to him.

"Recovery to me... means covering up and patching up the mistakes and moving on. You are your greatest enemy. It takes more than a sword to pierce your will. It just takes a soft tip to lead into absolute disaster."

Achlys winked at him and slowly patted Asahi's head, massaging his little neck with her dark gloves.

"Trust me, I have been there." She chuckled. "So, shatter that burden and make relationships with others. Because we too keep a light when it's already prepared to be shared."

. . .

As the memory faded, Asahi stepped back, shaking his head, recollecting his mother's provoking words.

He realized that to honor his mother, he must reject the cult's offer of false resurrection, even as pain mingled with his determination to resist.

Arriving late to the ritual, Asahi, his followers, and the Ruler of Bones stared as a blinding pillar of light shot up from the center.

Then, just as a shadowy figure began to form,

(SHING)

The light vanished abruptly, leaving the participants disoriented and unsure, the lingering energy of the failed ritual making the air heavy and expectant.

The resurrection circle, now dim, pulsed weakly as the priest frantically scanned the ground, desperate for a sign that the ritual's energy could be restored.

His eyes widened in fear and realization.

A chilling silence followed, broken only by the faint rustling of robes and the growing whispers among the cultists.

The smell of burnt incense lingered heavily, mingling with the bitter scent of anxiety that permeated the air.

The ground's chill settled beneath Asahi's feet, grounding him in that moment of dread.

The priest had miscalculated the precise alignment of the divine bodies, which was necessary for the ritual's success. This miscalculation broke the intricate flow of energy required, causing the magic to falter and destabilize the entire process.

According to their ancient lore, only when these divine bodies were perfectly aligned could the resurrection circle channel the primordial energy required. With the alignment off, the vital celestial path was incomplete, severing the ritual's flow of power.

Without proper alignment, the summoning circle's power became unstable, pulses of uncontrolled energy flickering out, causing tension and unease among everyone present as the ritual collapsed into chaos instead of resurrection.

This mistake doomed the ritual—subtle in the moment, but catastrophic in impact. What could have been a triumphant rebirth twisted into irreversible failure due to this oversight.

"What did you do?" He said with frustrated screams. Then he noticed the black halo on Asahi's hands. He then snarled a look of disdain, muttering and shouting in fury as the cultists gathered back. " You ruined the resurrection process."

And just like that, who was once passive was transformed into hostile in mere seconds.

"Can you not see? Her return is essential to banish the Black Flood! Without this ritual, it will consume us all." The priest thrust his staff into the air.

There it was... that enigmatic term. 'The Black Flood.' Said to be the unfathomable dark tide that erases entire realms with its sweep.

The words sent a shiver through Asahi's spine, a familiar sense of dread curling at the edges of his mind.

Memories speak of its insatiable hunger, devouring all light and warmth, leaving nothing but a chilling emptiness.

Thinking of Paxon, the Ruler of Memories, he recalled tales whispered in the quiet shadows—accounts of a devouring force, consuming everything, and leaving darkness in its wake.

This crucial memory was one of the memories Paxon had drunk beforehand.

The Black Flood. One thing defined it above all.

The air seemed to thicken with an unsettling heaviness, as if it too was cloaked in the Flood's ominous shadow.

"Oh, devouring prince."

That voice could not drift away. It clung onto the back of his mind like a spider, its tendrils crawling up his forgotten memories. As the cultists gathered around the priest, he continued.

"The Black Flood could swallow us up any minute. And yet YOU," He pointed at Asahi, as if trying to strangle him with words. "...are foolish enough to wait for its never-ending consumption. Fool! You have just doomed us all."

And yet, even after his words... nothing happened.

The priest glared at Asahi, Saunek, and the followers, eyes blazing with fury.

"It should have consumed us by now." He said with a trembling voice.

After a couple of boring seconds, the priest shook his head and objected.

"Why? What's happening? Legends say a beautiful woman rises to dispel the Black Flood. Why hasn't the devouring prince consumed us yet?"

He spiraled into wild theories, nearly turning on his own cultists with rage.

"Is The Black Flood a merciful entity? Have we been lied to all this time? Is she not the key to her love? Is she the first? Is she powerful? Does she lie? Is she..."

Catastrophic mistakes drowned him in questions, but the priest had nothing left to lose. All watched as he repeatedly failed to summon and revive Achlys.

But all that appeared was a distant shadow.

He then, after grabbing a knife, slid it on his hand and dropped a droplet of blood onto the circle. But without the halo, all of it was meaningless. Asahi stepped forth and yelled as the priest's desperate pleas grew increasingly sour and cumbersome.

"Is this your key?"

Then, after smearing blood all over the resurrection circle, the priest screamed.

"ATTACK THOSE SCOUNDRELS!"

Suddenly, swordsmen of all types emerged and struck at the group. They threw their swords at Asahi and Saunek. But luckily enough...

One of the skeletons, its eyes glowing with an unsettling azure flame, proclaimed, "We shall serve the Ruler of Bones with great honesty and dignity."

The skeletons charged at the cultists, their bones rattling with an eerie symphony that echoed through the night. Each movement was fluid, almost otherworldly, as they hurled their own bones like javelins towards the cultists.

The air shimmered with a ghostly luminescence as they advanced, adding to the supernatural aura.

Quickly, the priest vanished, leaving the followers of the Cult of Achlys to abandon and scramble their way out of the resurrection circle.

Asahi, after holding onto a lantern, quickly sprinted in the other direction, hearing Saunek yell at him.

"Leave, now!" He screamed as he summoned several bones to form a wall. "It's not me they're after, it's you! I'll meet you on the other side."

Asahi raced up the stairs, only to find—

"Ah, oh, I am very, very, very delighted to see you." A shrill, but high-pitched, feminine voice appeared, her hands covered in crimson blood. She swiftly drank a canister of blood, showing her fangs, hissing at Asahi as she clutched both her blades. Dark hair fluctuated with the incoming avalanche, racing and bouncing as Asahi tried to press onward.

"Why the rush? Cat got your tongue? Can't speak? Surely there's something."

Her pink eyes bulged wide as she noticed something sashed at Asahi's waist.

"Is that... a halo?" She said, awestruck at this discovery. "Not just any halo, but belonging to the white-haired maiden, Achlys? Your mother?! How do you have it? This halo is rumored to hold immense power. It was said to have vanished with her centuries ago, its presence marking the one destined to resist the Black Flood. I've heard many speak of its ability to harness the primordial energies, to shield against the darkness of the Black Flood and restore harmony."

She pointed her knife at Asahi.

"Tell me right now how you came to possess such a relic before I slaughter you and bring your corpse to my Queen."

Asahi was frozen. His feet rooted to the ground. She spoke at such a speed that it was almost dizzying to hear her.

"Answer now, dim wit. Where did you get the halo?"

Despite her petite frame, menace radiated from her. She yanked Asahi down as the avalanche built, her smile fading to a pout as she glared at the clouds.

"Answer now! I don't want to say it again and again and again!"

Asahi kept silent. This made her smile in a twisted manner.

"If I can't get you to talk, vanilla boy, then THIS shall make you."

Suddenly, she carried the corpse of a poor, innocent young man. Which then caused him to bite his tongue in rage.

"What did you do?" He screamed as he heard footsteps toll over.

(PAT) (PAT) PAT)

This evil woman, with dark hair and hot pink eyes, was none other than the menace that had slaughtered everyone along with Yawman, back in the previous loops, Kika.

(TAP) (TAP) (TAP)

Just before she had grabbed her knife, Saunek, with golden luminance coiling and tazing him, raced outside and threw a cluster of bones at Kika. Hurriedly, she dodged the attack, then soared to Saunek, frustrated and excited.

"Ugh, a bystander," Kika said as she licked her blade. "Nonetheless, this shall be fun! Come at me, skeleton boy! See and witness what your careless actions do!"

With Saunek arose the followers. Basque, Mural, and Cyriluio, all scrambling outside to protect Asahi. If he were to snap his fingers once, all of this progress would be for naught.

So, with motivation tingling his bones, Asahi arose from the crumbling avalanche and unsheathed his Sword of Eventide from his Soul Storage.

After placing the dark halo in his pocket, he quickly swooped and crawled over, slicing one of Kika's fingers.

"Then if it's a fight you WANT. It's a fight you'll get!"