The Flower Blooming from Despair

Weishi Hosen was bound upon the Island of the Dead, where the Great Poet Tito had once suffered. Centuries ago, the bones of the Yinsai people had littered this place. After the saint Tito passed through, however, the island became an ancient relic.

Stone stakes still lined the island's edge, though every trace of the old filth and stench had long since been scoured away. At its center, a plaza had been hewn from the rock and paved with flagstones.

On the plaza stood statues of the Great Poet and the first Demon Abyss King.

The Great Poet Tito wore his woven basket on his back. Behind him, back to back with the poet, stood the old man in the stone helmet.

Steady devotion filled both pairs of eyes. One figure bowed his head in prayer while the other raised his face to the sky.

Behind them, the rock wall bore carvings of the God-Given Land, the boundless sea of Sun Cup flowers, and the Pyramid Temple.

High above the sky and stars stood the symbol of God Yinsai, the Creator.

The Demon Abyss Kingdom, too, revered Tito as a holy man.

Nobles and commoners alike knew the legend of his journey, and throughout the kingdom they sang his Hymn of the King of Wisdom.

Stone shackles locked Weishi Hosen's hands and feet, binding him fast to one of the stakes. No one without immense strength or a weapon could hope to break them open.

Just as the woman knight had said, perhaps only the will of the divine could save him now.

The woman knight stood over the weakened Weishi Hosen, hatred filling her eyes.

"Weishi Hosen, prince of the Volcano Kingdom."

"The moment the first Demon Abyss King ascended to the domain of the divine, Great God Yinsai absolved us of our sin."

"Now, beneath the gaze of God and the saint, answer for your own sin!"

The People of the Abyss slipped back beneath the sea, leaving Weishi Hosen alone amid that vast forbidden stretch of water.

The savage sun scorched Weishi Hosen's carapace as the water drained from his body, little by little. Dizziness, hunger, and a raging thirst crept into his heart.

His fingers twitched.

His great power was still there. He could feel the strength of his wisdom ability and bloodline rolling through him.

One burst of that power would tear open his shackles.

Yet the instant he called on his wisdom ability, the Sun Cup would drain away his blood of myth and devour him whole.

Hope and death had fused into a single closed circle.

There was no escape from it.

This alone was the most terrible thing of all.

The woman knight had not driven him into a dead end. She had stranded him in a desert and given him a cup of water.

If he drank, he might yet walk out of the desert.

The water, however, was poison.

Only now did he understand true despair, true pain, and true torment.

The most terrible darkness was not falling into the abyss. It was false hope.

Racked by pain and torment, he flexed his fingers again and again, wanting to wrench himself free.

Longing and expectation shone in his eyes.

Then his gaze would catch on the brilliant Sun Cup at his shoulder. Terror would sweep across his face, and he would stop.

Again and again the cycle repeated, again and again he wavered between resolve and hesitation, until at last it drove him mad.

Ah!

"Damn them! Damn them all!"

"You wretch! You lowly monster, spawn of the sinful people!"

"And Henir, and every last one of you who betrayed me, who coveted my throne!"

"I curse you! I curse you all to a wretched death!"

"I curse every one of you..."

The saint Tito had faith and ideals to sustain him in despair. Prince Weishi's heart, by contrast, had turned wholly to darkness.

Nothing filled the emptiness in his heart, and nothing could halt his descent into madness.

He could only roar and thrash like a madman, pouring out all the fear and despair within him.

He cursed Henir and every person who had betrayed him.

He raged at the monsters.

Only when he lacked the strength for either curses or abuse did he sag against the stone stake, scarcely breathing.

Blazing light struck his eyes. Through his blurred vision, a silver shape appeared far away, crossing the sea toward him.

"What is that!"

"Is it a mirage?"

The closer it came, the clearer its shape grew.

There could be no mistake. The Divine Boat he had pursued so bitterly was approaching from the far reaches of the sea, passing the island's shore before his very eyes.

Ah!

"It is the Divine Boat!"

The Divine Boat could not have come this way by chance. The sight of it confirmed everything he had believed.

Through clouded eyes, Weishi Hosen watched it approach and murmured weakly.

"So you truly are sailing home along the Great Poet's path?"

"Where are you bound?"

"Are you returning once more to the domain of the divine?"

From the horizon, the Divine Boat glided to the island's edge, almost close enough for him to touch.

Then, little by little, it began to recede.

"Do not go!"

"Please, do not go!"

Despair tore the cries from him as tears streamed down his face.

Nothing remained of his princely glory. He had fallen as low as anyone could fall, with nothing left to take pride in.

Begging and pleading, he struck his head against the stone stake like a man kowtowing, as though he might somehow catch the Divine Boat's attention.

Every expression and movement was more abject than those of any slave he had ever looked upon.

"Wait for me!"

"Wait! Wait for me!"

"Save me!"

Sadly, he was not the Great Poet Tito.

He was no saint bearing a divine artifact on pilgrimage to the domain of the divine. No one would come with God's will to set him free.

Dreamlike starlight carried the Divine Boat away without a moment's pause.

At last, he could bear no more.

Weishi Hosen unleashed his wisdom ability. Mental power ripped from his mind and consciousness, whipping up a violent storm.

With a roar, he used his mental power to bring a stone crashing down from high overhead, shattering the shackles around his hands.

His hands were free. He had no strength left to release his feet.

"Wait for me!"

"Wait for me!"

Stone shackles dragging from his legs, he crawled toward the Divine Boat, toward that silver radiance reflected in the sunlight, toward the ship that led to the Kingdom of God.

He wanted to climb aboard.

He dragged himself to the island's edge. After crawling only a few meters farther, he would be able to climb aboard the holy ship.

That silver boat, brimming with hope.

Wild joy swept across his face. In that same moment, however, he sensed something.

He turned his head. The Sun Cup fused into his flesh had drained every last drop of blood of myth from his body and swollen to its limit.

The transformed Sun Cup Flower opened its mouthparts.

Ah!

His Highness the prince was dead. Only a corpse remained.

A beautiful flower opened wide from the corpse. Dense roots took hold inside Weishi Hosen's body and devoured every trace of his flesh and blood.

Even his bones were ground to powder and swallowed by the flower cup.

This flower had bloomed from Weishi Hosen's despair.

Now it possessed consciousness. A wisdom all its own had awakened within it.

"Hm?"

Mental power blossomed outward, and the flower too saw the Divine Boat in the distance.

It did not know what the distant object was. Even so, an urge rose within it to chase the Divine Boat, along with a fierce longing to climb aboard.

Some fragment of Weishi Hosen's memory seemed to live on in the Sun Cup that had devoured him. It sped across the sunlit sea in pursuit of the Divine Boat.