I sensed something was wrong. The way he paused and hesitated felt heavy, like he didn't want to continue but was obligated to. Finally, he sighed, his voice carrying a solemn weight.
"It has condensed in your eyes," he began, "but the curse has begun to spread. Slowly, it is making its way to other parts of your body—most critically, your brain. Within a few hours, it will erode your mind entirely, leading to your death." He hesitated before adding, "I am… truly sorry."
His words struck me like a thunderclap, reverberating through my mind. I felt numb, dizzy, as if the floor beneath me had vanished. A storm of emotions surged—fear, despair, anger. My thoughts spiraled wildly.
I thought of my life, my family, and everyone who had stood by me. I thought of my late mother, who had died giving birth to me. It was a guilt I had carried all my life—believing that her death was my fault, that she could have lived a full life if not for me. And now, to hear that my life might end so soon...
Time seemed to blur. It felt like hours had passed as I sat there, wrestling with my emotions. Anger flared briefly—I wanted to blame someone, anyone, for all of this. But deep down, I knew there was no point. What was done, was done.
A quiet sadness settled over me. If this was the end, I didn't fear death itself—I'd never held my life in particularly high regard. What weighed on me was the thought of leaving my family behind, the people who had always cared for me, who had believed in me despite my limitations. Would they feel burdened by guilt when they learned the truth?
I sighed, letting go of the anger, the fear, the helplessness. All I could manage was a weak, "Okay."
The god seemed to sense the shift in me. His voice softened as he spoke again.
"To ease your apprehensions, know this—you don't have to perish here. As I mentioned, we have debated and found a solution. But it is you who must decide."
I sat quietly, waiting for him to elaborate.
"We have chosen to extract you from this world and place you in another—a universe ruled by my sister. This realm operates differently, with unique magic molecules that will counteract the curse. You will begin anew. We will also grant you skills and resources to help you settle in this new world."
He paused, as if gauging my reaction, then continued.
"I understand your fears of being a burden. But the world you are going to will give you a fresh start, a chance to regain what you've lost—your sight included."
His words, though heavy, carried a strange comfort. The thought that the gods had deliberated over my plight, that they were offering me another chance... it felt surreal.
"Well," I said with a faint smile, "I don't see much of a choice here. If this is a chance to live a different life, to be something more, then I'll take it. I… forgive you, for all of this. I know you didn't mean for it to happen, and I can see how much effort you've put into making it right."
I meant every word. Deep down, I didn't hold resentment for the gods. The director of the orphanage had taught me that kindness and forgiveness were virtues worth striving for, even when the world seemed cruel.
A memory surfaced, vivid and clear:
When I was seven, I heard a commotion outside the orphanage. A man was shouting profanities at the director, accusing us of wasting funds and being a drain on society. He was a shopkeeper whose business was failing, and he'd come to vent his frustrations. I expected the director to argue back, but he stood there, silent and calm, letting the man's anger run its course.
Later, when I asked him why he hadn't defended himself, he smiled and said:
"It's easy to let anger control you. But true strength lies in mastering your emotions. If you can resolve a situation peacefully, always choose that path. Forgiveness is a gift, not just for others, but for yourself. Never let pride or ego cloud your judgment."
Those words stayed with me, shaping the person I had become. And in time, the shopkeeper returned, apologizing profusely for his outburst. The director forgave him without hesitation. From that day on, the shopkeeper became one of our greatest supporters, even calling the director his "big brother."
I took a deep breath, grounding myself in that memory. "Thank you," I said sincerely. "For giving me this chance. For going to such lengths for me. I'm ready."
The god's voice warmed. "The deity responsible for this mishap will accompany you to the new world. He will serve as your guide and mentor, ensuring you understand your new surroundings. Though the world you are going to lacks magic in the traditional sense, its people have taken a different path, one of science and innovation. You will find it… fascinating."
He paused again before adding, "And do not worry about your family here in Guri. I will personally ensure their well-being. I will issue an oracle to explain your departure and ease their pain. Do you wish to leave any parting words?"
I nodded, requesting to leave a message for my family and friends. I thanked them for their love and support and apologized for leaving so suddenly. I promised to remember them always and expressed hope that, somehow, I might find a way to reach them again one day.
With my message recorded, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders.
"I'm ready," I said, my voice steady.
Suddenly, a wave of drowsiness washed over me. I felt as though I was floating, weightless and untethered. My body burned with an intense pain, searing and all-encompassing. Then, everything went dark.
My fate seem to hung in a balance that was too hard for someone like me to conceive.