The thing called existence stretched in every direction. Everything one could imagine rested within the confines of that existence. To speak of it, the scale seemed minuscule. But to imagine it—an infinite number of universes, with their own branching present, past, future timelines—no word could describe its size.

Yet, there was an existence watching it all at once. Thoughtless, formless, emotionless, just a being that embodied the laws that governed reality—birth, death, fate—he became the nexus of everything.

Time passed, the body lost, the mind erased, yet the yearning never vanished. A promise had to be kept, and Sylvester wasn't one to go back on his word.

However, there was one thing still left to be done. One last piece of the puzzle that had to be prepared and put in its place.

####

Five thousand one hundred and thirty years ago, there stood the town by the name of Redroot at the edge of the Sol continent, at the easternmost peninsula. Its name derived from the massive tree that reached the heavens, its roots red, reaching the depths of the earth.

An era of confusion, lawlessness, filth of mind, turmoil, disarray, and decentralized powers. Tribes, tiny kingdoms, and warlords ruled the realm. With the continuous raids from dragons of the east and piracy from the goblins, the massive tree was a boon to the people.

Its shades hid them from dragons, denying them a landing. While the goblins couldn't climb the trees well, or search through its web of roots that sprawled across the entire town.

A population of a few thousand, perhaps the largest town in the world. It was home to the boy with whom everything began.

"Where is Luther? He's been slacking every day!"

"Forgive him, Master. I'll bring my brother quickly. I-I'll teach him well."

"You said that yesterday!" Said the burly man, his hands soaked in blood from the animals he butchered for his shop. "Girl, I bought you with him so you siblings can stay together. Remind him, if he doesn't work, I'll sell you—you'll fetch a good price."

The girl, barely ten, terrified by that very idea, nodded and quickly ran out of the shop. She ran non-stop until she reached the region under the huge tree, and climbed the branches to find her brother in his usual spot, sleeping.

"Luther!" She shouted and pounced on his sleeping chest, smacking his face non-stop. "Why are you like this? Do you even care what happens to me? He said he'll sell me again!"

Too used to it, Luther woke up and caught his younger sister's hands. "Ugh, let me sleep. Go away, Emily… It's just chopping meat, you can do it too."

"No, I can't. I can't even lift that heavy knife," she barked back and fought. "You really don't care what happens to me? If I get sold?"

"Why would he do that? Waste a good little worker like you? Tsk… he's just scaring you…" Luther mumbled as he kept lying there, with his eyes closed.

Emily's eyes teared up. "I-If Father were alive… He woul—"

"Forget that bastard," Luther growled abruptly and woke up, pushing Emily away from his body. "He died a drunkard! He left us to die…"

"And you? Are you any better!?" Emily barked back, tears of anger starting to form in her eyes. She quickly got up, ready to leave. "Don't cry when he does sell me… You're just like Father!"

…

That was the last time Emily ever nagged Luther. He thought she had learned not to bother him, and he quickly returned to enjoy his calm life with no worry. Working whenever he desired, slacking whenever he felt like it.

He never wanted to be sold into slavery, but he felt it was his choice to work or not. After all, the laws prohibited a master from hurting his slaves.

A year passed, and Luther, thirteen years old, grew out of his slacking days, but in his heart grew a hunger for freedom and money. To live a life of opulence like those living in the inner town.

He tried his hands at all the crafts that could earn him big, and yet never succeeded. At home, the butcher, his master, continued to nag him to work. But he failed to realize that, in his pursuit of wealth, he slowly lost what he should have cherished.

Day after day, the smile on Emily's face faded into an ice-cold sculpture. The sparkle in her blue eyes grew hazy, her complexion paler than usual. Rarely did her voice echo in the shop anymore. But rarely did Luther notice her presence, let alone the absence of her voice.

The more his greed grew, the more his failure surmounted, and the more detached he became from what mattered.

On his thirteenth birthday, he desired a celebration. With the meager money he had gathered, he did just that. Despite living in a butcher's house, meat was a luxury they rarely received. So, he feasted with his friends, he drank and wasted, and with a fleeting thought of his sister, he bought more cooked meat to bring to her.

"Emily! Let's eat too—Where is she?" He looked in her room but didn't find her.

His room, the basement, the shop, he looked everywhere. At last, he approached his master's room and entered uninvited. But even there, he saw nothing but the silhouette of his master on the bed, moonlight filling the room.

'Where is she?' Luther frowned and decided to look outside. But just as he turned his face, he noticed a silver bracelet on the side table beside his master's bed. 'Why is this here? Did she give it to him?'

Confused, Luther left the house, shouting for his sister. It was night already, so the dirt street was empty. His screams only earned him the ire of those asleep.

'Is she angry?' Frustrated, he headed to his regular spot on the huge tree's branch, hoping to find her there. Hoping to pacify her there and eat with her. 'She's too childish. I'm here trying to make us rich and leave that dam—'

"Emily?!" He reached the large branch and found his sister sitting there, her face towards the tree bark, slumped forward as if asleep. "Let's eat, Emi."

Thud!

From the faintest touch of his hand over her shoulder, the loudest quake in his heart echoed. She fell back into his arms, her skin cold as ice, her face blue as the deep sea.

"Emily!" Panicked, Luther quickly lay her down flat and checked her heart and pulse. "No! No, no… what happened? Snake?"

Scared, he quickly picked up her limp body on his back and made a run back to town. His legs stretched as far as he could, running the familiar streets that started to feel longer than they had ever been. The panic thumping of his heart turned into screeches of fearful denial.

Breathless, he reached the healer's quarters and banged on the door until it opened, an old woman standing on the other side. He quickly showed his sister's face, and the healer took them in.

"Wait here." The healer stopped Luther while his sister was quickly brought to a curtained-off room. Quickly, the healer's assistants began running around, making various dry and fluid medicines.

"Young man, this will be costly. She's been poisoned," the healer warned him. "Do you even have the money?"

"M-Money?" Luther's heart sank, and realization dawned. He had spent most of it on his birthday feast. "Only this much."

He stretched out a few scattered coins from his pocket, offering them up with both hands as if it was a lump of mud that was worthless right now. It was nothing compared to his sister's life.

The healer sighed and took it. "I will try my best."

That was the last thing he heard from the healer. Hours passed, and just before the sun was about to rise, the healer returned.

'What is this?' Luther noticed the ruffled hair of the healer, her eyes narrowed, but not red from sleeplessness.

"I'm sorry, young man. But it was too late to save her. The poison had spread deep, and only a miracle could have done something."

"You liars!" Luther bellowed; enraged, pained, guilty, ashamed. "You did nothing! You only wanted my money! She was dead already, wasn't she!? You… you gave me false hope! Move!"

Luther ran into the room and found his sister's body lying on the table. Still the same as he had brought her, in her clothes, her complexion paler, her skin colder. Tears pooled in his eyes, his voice stuck in his throat.

"Emily… S-say something…" He hugged her lifeless body and shook her face with a gentle palm on her face. Her eyes were closed, and nothing was moving. "I'm sorry… I'll do whatever you want. Please wake up… I'll work… I'll work day and night! Scold me all you want! Just wake up!"

Yet, silence was all he earned. He knew it was all useless now, but he didn't want to believe it.

"Emily… wake up…. Please! Please!!" Memories flashed before his watery eyes. Her voice had grown distant from him. He couldn't remember the last time he spoke with her, and saw her smile. The last time he sat with her like family.

In his pursuit of wealth, he lost everything.

"Take her to the crematorium," the healer scolded him. "Patients will be coming soon. They don't want to see a dead body first thing in the morning."

Unable to even lash out, his eyes grew empty. He lifted Emily's small body in his arms and walked alone. Each step was as heavy as lead, resounding in his now-empty heart, inching him closer to reality. He was now alone, with no one to nag him, pout at him, or hit him; No one to smile at him, laugh with him, or care for him. His Emily was now gone.

The morning dew settled, and the hazy blue sky matched the complexion of his sister. His empty watery gaze relented, tears flowing through his eyes dripping onto her lifeless face, he continued to stare at her dead face.

A nightmare, it must be. But no matter what, he couldn't wake up from it, bound by reality.

He arrived very quickly at the crematorium by the seaside without realizing it, as if his body moved on its own. The pyre was already set there for any incoming dead.

He laid her on top and let the shamans do their rituals, braid her hair, place a flower on her neck, and strip her of her clothes. All he could do was watch, staring emotionlessly at their preparation as his tears flowed.

"Young man, take her belongings." Luther received the folded clothes. "There was also this piece of paper in her pocket."

Luther took it and watched as the shamans set the pyre on fire. The body burned away along with the timber, his greatest wealth lost forever.

Thud!

He fell on the sandy ground and caressed the texture of her clothes, unfolding the piece of paper to look inside. Her writing, her last message; it broke him beyond repair.

[You are reading this means I am gone. Please cry, Luther, please cry over my burning pyre. Cry and remember me. You did this to me! You killed me… so slowly…] Broughttoyoubythefolksat

MV|LEMPYR.

Luther's hand clenched on the paper, his red eyes burning with tears, veins mounting his forehead. A burning fury arose in his heart, rage against himself as he read more and more.

[I told you he'd sell me away. He tried to do that when you were away these three days. I didn't want to leave you, so I pleaded to him, and he agreed to a price—not money, but my bod—]

"Nooo…!" Luther roared, his thoughts unable to comprehend anything the more he read, noting the tear drops that had dried on the paper, Emily's tears. It detailed every little thing she wrote, how she felt, how much pain she suffered, how she lost her smile, how she died while living in agony… slowly, night after night, like a thousand cuts inflicted upon her young self.

[...Keep this, Luther… Never forget this… Read this whenever you go to sleep, whenever you sit to relax… read this until the day you die… Live, and remember my pain, every single day of your life. I took this poison on my own. I don't see any meaning to life anymore—Goodbye, Luther… As family, I loved you, I wanted to believe in you, I trusted you… until I hated you. I hate you, Luther, I HATE you… Goodbye forever, Emily.]

He could see her mangled thoughts, the revisions, the scratches filled with the rage of the quill on each letter. He could see how she struggled not to hate her own brother, striking out each 'hate' with a shaky line, causing even more heartache to pierce through his heart.

"Haaaaa…! Haaaaa!"

Beastly growls escaped towards the sky, his thoughts turbulent, for there was none to be blamed but himself.

"Nooooo…!"

His fists slammed against the lifeless dirt below as he cried, his claws scratched through his head. His chest burned, wishing to rip his own excruciating heart out.

His greed for wealth and his shameless being had caused this. His ignorant eyes towards Emily's suffering had brought this. He—had brought this.

By the time the pyre ran its course and quenched, just an emotionless shell of a man was left as Luther. Alive, but dead inside. Still nowhere near what Emily went through, he knew it.

"The butcher!"

Luther carried back her ashes in a small pot, walking back to the shop.

Still, early in the morning, he went to Emily's room, packed all that belonged to her, and brought it to the entrance. Then, he removed all his clothes, picked up the butcher's knife, and walked upstairs with dull steps.

The same sleeping silhouette was there, snoring. Luther held no thoughts, his gaze empty, and his body mechanically moved on its own toward the bed. His arm raised up and fell with no pause.

Slash!

Slash!

Slash!

Once, twice, ten, fifty, hundred—the butcher's flesh was chopped into fine pieces until all but bones remained. It started with dying groans, but it ended in silence, the birds chirping outside the window.

Returning to the lower floor, Luther put the knife away and picked up a large bottle of lamp oil. Then, he thoroughly sprinkled it everywhere throughout the house, and at last, cleaned himself and changed his clothes. There was nothing in his eyes, but his body moved as if he were still struggling to reach that final redemption through revenge, his soul still screaming inside.

Woosh!

Emotionless as before, with a single spark of fire, he left the shop burning. With Emily's clothes and her ashes in his hands, he coldly left through the back door and vanished into the forest sprawled around the massive tree's roots.

He reached his usual spot and sat down, placing the pot of ashes there and kneeling before it. Crying, apologizing, screaming, and cursing everything. Then he took out the same knife and pointed it at himself.

"I'm sorry… I didn't want this…! I did it, Emily, I killed the butcher… We can finally leave! I did it! I killed him. I'm sorry… I'm so sorr—"

Snap!

Right then, something happened. So noticeable that even the crazed Luther felt it. The rustling leaves had stopped as if time stood still. The birds fell silent—the entire forest and the tree were suddenly calm.

"W-Wha… Who…"

From the tree's bark came out a man's figure covered in golden light, humanoid and tall, hair as thin as a spider's silk. His voice pierced through his very being as if speaking to his soul.

"Luther Vas Hermington—This won't absolve you."