"Will you promise?"

For as long as I could remember, I've always been alone. Despite the large mansion housing my family of five and the many servants that faithfully and loyally follow every whim of the 3 young masters and youngest 2 daughters, it was not enough for me, who craved the love of my father, a man so cold it made the hair on my skin crawl and my eyes burn until it bled red.

"Will you promise?" —the voice of a child, no older than a 7-year-old, the same high, almost whiny voice that I hear from children screaming bloody murder to their mothers, lost in the sea of people panicking from the terrorism of the awful governance in this society.

I looked up at that moment, seeing a bright smile despite the blood. I felt my eyes burn, and I let myself tear up. How long has it been since someone talked to me in such a way? Even though I know for a fact that underlying that innocent facade may be the devil luring me into selling my soul, I let myself soak up the light that seemed to shine and it made me want to hope.

But what exactly am I hoping for?

"I dunno, but if you promise, I'll grant you a wish," it seemed that I said my thoughts out loud, for the child responded with a shrug, clothes still white that people might think it is new—which it may be, and it looked out of place, for the fact that here I am, lying down the concrete wall with bloody hands and red cold blood pooling underneath.

"... What?" I responded with a hoarse voice I could barely conjure. My eyes felt heavy, my lungs felt like it was about to collapse. Yet, despite these, I managed to find the strength to stay alive and listen, hanging onto every word said by a kid that surely does not belong here on the battlefield. A losing battle between the empire I loyally swore upon to defend and protect in exchange for getting married off to whoever retarded old man my stepmother found and a kingdom that was not even founded a hundred years ago, yet still defeated a bigger country with generations ahead of its founding.

"Can you promise?" the child asked once again, giving no context. At this point, I felt confused and frustrated, for I do not know what I am being signed up for. I hate not knowing anything. Yet the child continues to laugh as if my emotions resurfaced on my face like how I was when I was but a young child, an amateur in the arts of masking my feelings.

"I can." I finally gave my answer. It seems to have satisfied the child as he steps back, giggling merrily, only then did I realize that the surge of people panicking from outside the dark alleyway I was hiding upon became silent, yet it did not give me any source of tranquility.

"Then, what is your wish?"

"What exactly are you-*

"Is it fame? Respect? Money? Although I'm sure the last one is the least of what you need right now," he continues to blabber on and about, interrupting me and leaving me no space for argument and for my question to be finished and answered.

"Or maybe… it's your father's love that you've been looking for?" once again, as if it was my body warning me to not dove further into this deep black hole that keeps on tugging me down to a point of no return, the remaining blood in me turns cold and I can feel my face become paler from the alarm of being read like an open book.

"Or maybe it can also be freedom?"

"... From what, exactly?"

The child shrugged once again, yet this time he took a look at his surroundings and that is when everything became clear.

There was once a young god. This god gave his blessing to those who were gifted and who took care of his favorite flower, the Calla. It was said that for the god to first grant them a wish, he would ask them a riddling question that they can only answer once they found their life's purpose. And that this god is the lord of one rundown temple our maternal family, for as long as unknown generations ago, have been serving upon for our lifetime.

"If you ever met him, just give him a wish and he will grant it in exchange for a condition you may find hard to do at first but will easily figure out anyways, or worse, the other way around."

"Then if it was the other way around, how will I find the answer easily?"

"Oh young Fate, there is no easy way in life. You just have to suck it up and hope this damned world would revolve around you."

"—So, what would your answer be?"

Coming back to her reverie, too many thoughts in her mind gave her a headache, and without much thought, she let go of the words she could only dream of saying many times ago. There was a ringing in her head as if it was provoking her into surrendering with the tempting lure of a god. Maybe it was not a deity but the devil whispering to her short-term happiness in disguise of a lifetime punishment for what she has done in this one lifetime she surely regrets living upon.

"I want to turn back time."