"I refuse."
The Old Man's words resounded throughout the void, making Aaron flinch.
There was no deal that the man would accept, no quest he had in mind, and no opportunity for success.
He simply refused.
To Aaron, it wasn't something he had believed he would say, yet with further thought, it made sense.
What reason does someone of his level have to help me with a guild mission…
"Before we continue…"
The man's voice rang out again, interrupting his thoughts.
"He has begun to stir, and there is no longer any way to keep him in slumber. He will prepare for the day of another's return, and he will be ready if your world fails."
Each of his cryptic sentences meant nothing to the boy; however, he knew that they weren't merely the rambling of a senile man.
Something in the Abyss was stirring, and the Old Man could feel it.
"Due to this development, we will not be able to speak until he has entered his slumber again. There is nothing I can do anymore to stop this. I can only wish your world the best of luck when facing that creature, for he nearly destroyed you once before."
His speech was thick and full of deeper meaning that Aaron could only speculate about, yet without any further context, he was left in the dark.
If even he can't stop it, then…
Fresh, cold fear gripped his heart, pulling him back into the clutches of what sought to destroy him.
He had been under the assumption that this turquoise-haired elder was someone who was like Cam, a mentor and teacher who would help him no matter what.
Such delusions were shattered in an instant as the boy realized that the Old Man had never been omniscient, nor omnipotent.
He was someone who transcended the confines of the world, someone who could kill gods.
But in the end, he had still been sealed beneath the Abyss, and without his freedom, he was limited in some form.
There was no way that a young teenage boy could ever hope to compare to him, in this lifetime or the next.
On the other side of the darkness, the terror stared lifelessly at the man before vanishing into a mist of dust.
The magenta and blue butterflies that had encircled his figure took off, taking their perch above the tall mirror.
Reflected within, the Old Man's face was stone-cold and ruthless like a true warrior without a sliver of fear.
It was something Aaron wished he could be but couldn't accomplish alone.
And as he contemplated his own strength compared to someone who had lived for millennia, the man laughed, speaking calmly.
"We both know you have nothing left to offer, boy. Other than my own freedom, the only thing of value you could bring me would be the heart of a god. You must achieve what I cannot give you. Real strength."
His voice was hard without restraint, digging into every weak point that the terror inside his subconscious had opened.
"And while you might be puny, pathetic, sad, and hopeless… You are still the one who was chosen by him. One day, far into the future, when you regain your memories, you will see the world for what I have seen it as, and you will know the truth. I only hope that when we meet again after that day, you have grown and will choose the right path."
Inhaling deeply, the man's wrinkled smile faded away for a moment, replaced with the brightest grin the boy had ever seen.
The void shook ominously as the man's figure warped and distorted itself into a younger, more vibrant form.
"Goodbye for now, Young Grimstall."
His words echoed throughout the space as Aaron grasped their meaning, full of finality and loneliness.
This Old Man, no matter his strength, was fundamentally the same as himself.
He had struggled through highs and lows, events that would change him in ways that would shape the world itself.
So as the mirror began to crack and the butterflies to flight, the blond-boy could only smile and bow his head one last time.
"Thank you, Sir."
…
THUD!
Aaron's head collided with the ceiling as he bolted upward, startled and confused.
Instead of being beneath deck in Eleanor's chambers, starved and distraught, he was inside the captain's cabin.
Wisps of magical light bathed the room in a faint glow, illuminating Aaron's face ever so softly.
His eyes were wet, with a single tear sliding down his white cheek to the floor in such a minuscule size that it could've been a raindrop.
The map table, which had been carefully maintained, boasted the magical parchment across its surface showing the surrounding region.
Wiping his eyes with his hands and sighing deeply, he turned his attention downward towards the surface, reading its diagrams carefully.
Based on the course they had been following and the distance from Corvassa, the only logical estimate for how long it had been was three days.
It was shorter than he had expected, yet still felt like forever in a world where he had nothing.
Outside of the cabin, moonlight shone down, reflecting off the harsh waves that pounded against the wooden Ghostship.
Aaron's head was clearer than before as the Old Man's words resounded throughout his head.
There would be a day when he would regain his memories, and on that day, there would be a truth revealed to him, one that would change him completely.
I was right. The me I currently am isn't who I was back then. Akari knew it, and so did he…
His heart ached as he remembered the expression of sadness that welled up in the pink-haired girl's face when she had realized she had been forgotten.
The force that had sealed his memories away was vile, cruel, and deceptive.
There was no room for errors anymore, and the blond-haired boy knew that better than anyone as he opened the door slowly.
Wind rushed through his hair, sending tufts into his eyes, which he batted away quickly, staring up into the starlight above.
The gods… I wonder if they see me now. Looking up at them in their lofty perch.
In the skies above, there was a solitary flash as a comet streaked across the night sky.
It was followed by another, then another, and then a rush of thousands of fragments of space circling the planet.
The boy widened his eyes at the sheer beauty of the sight, finally embracing what he had been missing in his life.
He was someone blessed with a gift.
Whether it threatened to tear his flesh to pieces or grant him the power of a Sea King, the Ghostship was something beyond the normal.
His life may have been changed as a result of it, but without such an event, he never would've witnessed the world as he does now.
Cities filled with millions of people, children reunited with parents, terrors that would strike fear into anyone, and death only a hair away.
Everything he had experienced, whether the good or the bad, shaped him, and he knew that even after regaining his memories and being forced to make a choice...
Nothing would change about this version of himself.
For this fresh start on life, what he had been granted was a miracle that no other could compare to.
And as the cosmic rocks flew through the sky with trails of liquid light trailing behind, Aaron smiled, his white teeth glistening and shining.
He was happy, not just for life, but for this one moment in time that allowed him to exist in pure bliss.
…
The World Between shook as its thousands of deceased branches snapped and broke under the force pushing down upon it.
It was a place where dimensions were connected endlessly with no boundary, and even the souls of the dead passed through.
Such a place was as ancient as the universe itself, clinging to life with the energy sparked by its creator.
Only once in its entire existence did it wilt, and such an event was unprecedented.
The interdimensional war between gods had forced it to adapt, reshaping itself from a cosmotic entity that pushed and pulled at space-time to a rather sturdy structure.
Its shape resembled that of a tree, with its branches representing dimensions that stretched out across the world.
High in its canopy above was Heaven, the land of the gods, where none could enter and none could leave.
Deep below at its roots was the Great Beyond, death itself, a place governed and ruled by the God of Death alone.
And in the center of the infinitely growing structure was a small area resembling a triangle in shape.
With millennia of buildup, the region had been separated from its mother entity, forced to grow alone.
This place was the Devil's Triangle in which the Ghostships could travel freely across the Dimension of Waves.
Sea terrors were trapped within such a barrier, with seals placed on the ones who stood a chance at damaging the protective coating.
It was a stable system, one that none knew of, and yet it protected them from interdimensional strife.
That was, of course, until it began to tremble.