In the distant past, before all things were born.
Before life, space, or time existed, beneath the infinite void, ‘Chaos’ was born. Awakening from a long slumber, Chaos felt emptiness in a world filled only with darkness.
‘Is there nothing at all? I feel so empty, so bored.’
Chaos desired change to fill this space where nothing could be done and nothing existed, and drawn by that wish, Amina, the God of Desire, was born.
‘I want to fill this empty world to the brim.’
The moment those words were spoken, Amina, who realized why they had been born, carved away flesh and blood for Chaos’s sake and created 100 siblings.
‘I wish the world was filled with things other than just us.’
‘I wish there was space to contain beautiful stories.’
‘And I wish every story had a beginning and an end.’
Amina’s siblings, bearing various names like Love, Sorrow, Anger, and Greed, spoke of the changes they would bring to the world as soon as they were born.
Their stories gradually gained flesh and bone, and three siblings were born: Life, Space, and Time.
‘We need light to illuminate the world and darkness to lull the world to sleep.’
At the words of a wise sibling, Henelion, the God of Light who would illuminate the world, and Ircadeon, the God of Darkness who would quietly lull the world to sleep, were born.
The siblings of light and darkness each became kings of the world and ruled over it.
However, the greedy Ircadeon coveted Henelion’s position and started a war. Their war, fought without an inch of compromise, finally ended with Ircadeon’s defeat after a long 100 years.
In the end, Ircadeon and his people, defeated in the war, were exiled to the dark and deep underground.
In the world that had thus regained peace, Henelion cultivated the world together with his children.
* * *
One day, 500 years later.
A new life announced its birth beneath the cold and pitch-black dark underground.
“Waaaah—!”
Inside a small room of the underground castle covered with the cries of a newborn baby. After 100 years of waiting, Ircadeon, holding the child in his arms, wore a satisfied smile.
“At last. You are born.”
For the 100 years since deciding to create a child, he had waited only for this day. Wiping the wet eyes of the newborn child, Ircadeon asked the old woman standing behind him.
“…Alphera, can this child truly change my fate as your prophecy foretold?”
At the king’s words, the old woman who had been silently standing guard behind raised her head. With her lifeless, empty eyes, she was a prophet who had gained the power to see the future in exchange for losing her sight, and Ircadeon’s faithful subject.
“My great King, I regret to inform you that three branches of change have occurred in the baby’s future, and in your future.”
At the word ‘change,’ Ircadeon’s expression turned cold.
“The fate that the baby will surely fight alongside the things of the surface world according to Your Majesty’s will remains the same. However… a very, very minor change has occurred.”
“Don’t tell me… you’re saying the future has changed?”
Ircadeon’s eyebrows twitched. He didn’t know what kind of variable one minor change might return as to strike him from behind. Hadn’t he been defeated by Henelion in just such a way before and confined underground?
“That changed future won’t interfere with my plan, will it?”
A disruption in a plan that must have not a single flaw. As Ircadeon asked while exuding a murderous aura, Alphera shook her head.
“No. A fate that should have followed one path has merely split into three. The baby is one born with three branches of fate, and will walk the path of downfall, the path of success, and lastly, a path that changes according to the baby’s own choice.”
“Downfall… and success.”
Why would this tiny thing be born with such a complicated fate? Perhaps it had deviated slightly from its original fate because he had intervened to bring about its birth.
Though the two branches of fate—downfall and an undetermined path—grated on him, if there was a fate of success, nothing else mattered. What did it matter if the fate was divided into three branches?
Unnecessary side branches could simply be cut away.
If the child followed only the crossroads of destiny he set, the child would bring him victory.
“And there is one more message. You must send the baby to the surface world.”
“What?”
“If the baby remains here as is, they will remain ignorant and unable to bring you victory, Your Majesty. However, if they live on the surface, they will eventually be brought down to the underground by the gods of the surface and join forces with Your Majesty as fate guides them.”
At yet another shocking statement that exceeded expectations, Ircadeon’s brow furrowed.
“So, you’re saying the child must leave this place?”
“Yes, that is correct. But do not worry. The baby, having been enlightened by the things of the surface world, will return to Your Majesty’s side.”
He had intended to keep the child directly in his arms and raise them as a warrior to paint the surface with death, but as if mocking that plan, the child’s fate was twisted so bizarrely that he couldn’t get a handle on it.
“Hmm.”
The unexpected prophecy was vexing. 400 years since his defeat by Henelion, 100 years since receiving the prophecy and waiting for the child to be born.
At the end of that long wait, he had barely grasped the opportunity to turn the tide, and now it felt wasteful to send the child to the surface. Furthermore, he feared that the surface tribes would notice the child’s existence and pose a threat.
He couldn’t easily let those beings snatch away this opportunity he had somehow reclaimed. Yet at the same time, anxiety crept in that if he held onto the child, wouldn’t he ultimately face defeat?
Looking down at the child nestled in his arms, Ircadeon fell into contemplation for a moment.
After crying for a while, the child, now exhausted, was sleeping peacefully in his arms with the most comfortable expression in the world. He could feel the beating of a small heart.
“To think you must leave your homeland and grow up in the middle of enemy territory on paths of fate that branch in multiple directions. What a wretched and pitiable fate this is.”
He had merely wished for a tool for revenge, so why was this so complicated? Rather than sympathy, it was only briefly regrettable that he had to let go from his embrace because he had to send the child away.
Since he had decided to choose the fate that would bring him victory, he could do any cruel deed. Even if it meant killing the child.
“Alphera. With your own hands, immediately send the child to the surface.”
As Ircadeon, having made his decision, gave the order, Alphera immediately received and held the baby. Unaware that it would soon be abandoned, the baby slept peacefully.
“Yes… I understand.”
Bowing to the king one last time, she left the underground castle carrying the baby. Until she disappeared, Ircadeon gazed intently at her retreating figure as if regret remained.
Though it was regrettable to send the child away, the time of gods passes quickly. He could certainly wait for the years it would take for one young god to grow.
“Yes, you will return to me soon.”
Recalling the warm sensation still felt in his arms, Ircadeon murmured quietly.
