That night, as the moonlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting pale shadows across the room, Lian lay wide awake in his bed. His thoughts raced in every direction, a storm of uncertainty clouding his mind. The quiet of the cottage felt surreal. It was as though the world itself had paused, holding its breath, waiting for him to decide how he would move forward.

He turned on his side, pulling the thin blanket closer to his body, but the chill that crept into his bones was not from the night air. No, it was the chill of doubt, of uncertainty. What was he truly supposed to do?

Fix the mistakes you made, he repeated in his mind, the words echoing with a haunting clarity. But the more he thought about it, the less certain he became. How could he even begin to fix something so... vast? How could a single life, a mere boy's life, rewrite the course of everything that had come before him?

He closed his eyes, trying to block out the doubts, but they kept returning. The immortal life he had led—so long, so full of strife—felt like a shadow he could never escape. There were moments of peace, yes, but those moments were fleeting, swallowed up by the weight of years, of centuries. And yet, here he was, given a second chance, a chance to change everything.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Lian? You still awake?" His mother's voice was gentle, the kind of voice that had always soothed his troubled mind as a child.

Lian hesitated before sitting up, his blanket falling away. "Yes, Mother," he replied, his voice tight, betraying the unease he felt.

She entered the room, her silhouette framed by the soft light from the hallway lantern. Her eyes were warm, but there was an edge of concern in them that hadn't been there before. She stepped inside and sat at the edge of his bed, her presence filling the room with a quiet, comforting strength.

"You've been so quiet today, Lian," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Is everything alright? You've been through a lot… You don't need to carry all of it alone, you know."

Lian swallowed, his heart aching at her concern. He could feel the weight of the secret he carried, a secret that felt too heavy to share with her. He had been given this chance to change things, yes, but the weight of his past, the vast expanse of time, threatened to crush him every time he thought of it. How could he tell her the truth without breaking her heart?

"I… I don't know how to explain, Mother," he said finally, his voice barely a whisper. "I feel so lost sometimes."

She smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "It's alright, dear. You don't need to have all the answers now. Life has a way of revealing itself when we're ready."

But Lian was far from ready. He had seen too much of the world—too much of eternity—to simply accept that everything would work out on its own. He had been given a second chance, a rare gift, but it felt like a burden more than anything else.

"I'm trying to understand everything," he said, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I just don't know where to begin."

His mother's eyes softened, and she placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch grounding him in the present. "Start with what's in front of you, Lian. You don't need to fix everything at once. Life isn't about perfection; it's about the journey, the steps we take, no matter how small they seem."

Her words lingered in the air, like a balm for his restless soul. Lian looked at her, seeing her not just as his mother, but as the living embodiment of everything he had once longed for—love, connection, warmth. But at the same time, she was the reminder of what he had lost.

"Thank you, Mother," he said quietly, managing a small, genuine smile.

She patted his cheek gently, her eyes glistening with affection. "No need to thank me, Lian. Just remember, you're never truly alone."

She stood to leave but paused at the door, turning back to him. "And Lian…"

"Yes?" he asked, his voice softer than before.

"Whatever happens, remember that you're always my son. That won't change."

Lian's heart twisted, and he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. She didn't understand what he was going through—how could she? But her unwavering belief in him, in his worth, was something that rooted him in the present, even when the past threatened to consume him.

After she left, Lian sat in the silence of his room, staring out the window at the stars that now filled the sky. The moonlight bathed the world in a soft glow, casting everything in a serene, almost dreamlike quality. He was still uncertain, still haunted by his memories. But one thing had changed in him tonight.

Perhaps the journey wasn't about fixing everything, he thought. Perhaps it was about finding peace with what he had lost, with who he had been, and learning to live with the complexities of time and fate.

A small knock on the door startled him from his thoughts.

"Lian, it's me." It was Mei again, her voice soft but with a childlike excitement.

"Mei?" Lian called out, surprised. "What's wrong?"

She opened the door slightly, her small face peeking through. "I couldn't sleep. Do you want to come outside and watch the stars with me?"

Lian blinked. The request was innocent, simple—a child's wish. But for Lian, it was a reminder of the simplicity he had lost. The joy of the little things, the beauty of the world untainted by the weight of immortality.

Lian's heart softened. "Alright," he said, pushing himself off the bed.

They stepped outside into the cool night air, the soft sounds of the village fading into the background. The stars twinkled above them, endless and ancient, a silent witness to the passage of time. Mei sat on the grass, her legs crossed beneath her, and Lian followed suit.

"They look so beautiful tonight," Mei whispered, her eyes wide with wonder.

Lian nodded, staring up at the heavens. "Yes, they are." But as he gazed at the stars, he couldn't help but wonder if the heavens had ever really cared about him at all. If the eternity he had witnessed had ever been truly real. He had been so sure of everything once—of his immortality, of his purpose. But now? Now, nothing felt certain.

Yet, in the presence of Mei, in the innocence of her gaze, he found a fleeting comfort. Perhaps there was more to this second chance than he had realized.

Maybe, for now, he didn't need to understand everything. Maybe the answers would come in time.

He closed his eyes, breathing in the cool night air. He was back, but this life was not the same as the one he had known. The journey ahead was unknown, fraught with dangers and uncertainties, but it was his to walk. He would take it, one step at a time.

And for now, with Mei by his side, he would allow himself to simply be a child again, under the stars that would guide him forward.

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