Sakamon had been wandering the earth for thousands of years. He had seen civilizations rise and fall, watched empires crumble, and witnessed the birth and death of countless religions. He was a wanderer, searching for divinity, hoping to find meaning in a world that seemed devoid of it.
He had started his journey in the highlands of Silt, where he had been born into a community of monks who had dedicated their lives to the pursuit of enlightenment. But Sakamon had always felt that there was more to the world than the narrow confines of his monastery. So, one day, he had left, promising himself that he would never stop searching until he had found what he was looking for.
For centuries, Sakamon had roamed the earth, living on the edge of civilization, never settling down, always moving on. He had seen wonders that most people could only dream of: the pyramids of Skulls, the wall of Lodine, the temples of Beets. But no matter where he went, he never found what he was looking for.
As the centuries passed, Sakamon began to change. He no longer looked like the young monk who had left his monastery all those years ago. His hair had turned white, his skin had become weathered and wrinkled, and his eyes had taken on a deep, almost otherworldly, quality.
But despite his age and the toll that his long journey had taken on him, Sakamon refused to give up. He had devoted his entire life to finding divinity, and he wasn't about to stop now.
One day, as he was wandering through a dense forest, Sakamon stumbled upon a small village nestled among the trees. The people who lived there were simple folk, living off the land and worshipping the spirits of nature. Sakamon had seen many religions come and go over the centuries, but there was something different about this one. He could sense a deep spirituality in the air, a sense of connection to something greater than themselves.
Sakamon decided to stay for a while, to learn more about these people and their beliefs. He spent his days helping them with their chores, listening to their stories, and observing their rituals. And as he did, he began to feel a sense of peace that he had not felt in a very long time.
But even as he grew to love the simple life of the village, Sakamon could not forget his quest. He continued to search for divinity, hoping that he would find it in the teachings of these people.
One day, as he was walking through the forest, Sakamon came across an old woman sitting by a stream. She was hunched over, her face hidden by a hooded cloak, and she appeared to be lost in thought.
Sakamon approached her and asked if she needed help. But the woman simply smiled and said, "No, young one. I do not need your help. But perhaps you need mine."
Sakamon was taken aback by the woman's words. How could she know what he needed? But he could sense a deep wisdom in her, and he felt drawn to her presence.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I am known by many names," the woman replied. "Some call me the crone, others the wise woman. But you may call me whatever you like."
Sakamon sat down beside her, and they began to talk. The woman spoke of her life, of the things she had seen and the knowledge she had gained. And as she spoke, Sakamon began to feel a deep sense of connection to her.
"I have been searching for divinity for thousands of years," Sakamon said. "But I have never found it. Do you know where I might find it?"
The woman smiled
"You already have, you have been searching for so long you've forgotten what you are searching for."
"No I'm sure, I've been searching for divinity for for awhile."
"What do you think you are in search of?"
"Power in its raw form."
"Somewhat true, let he help you."
She taped his head with her index finger.
"Ora, thank you. I know what I seek. I seek to reunite my brother."
"You are welcome, bring him back to me."
"I will not forget this time. I will destroy the wielders and erase their entire blood line."
Sakamon stood up and walked pass Ora. He turned around and she was gone.