I have walked alone through this boundless mortal world for more than three thousand years, it seems. Snow-covered lands, forests and deserts, glaciers, lakes, and seas: I have seen every breathtaking sight this world has to offer, and carried them all in my heart. Yet I cannot remember the face from three thousand years ago, the one that made it impossible to tell love from hate. His voice, his appearance, his figure standing in the wind, his indifferent eyes... But who was he?
Who are you?
It no longer matters.
The sword wounds covering my body have all healed, and my shattered soul is almost whole again. Even if I never enter the cycle of reincarnation, even if I drift alone through this world for tens of thousands of years, it is still better than being scorned and treated with contempt for my delusions of wanting what I cannot have. Better than enduring that searing pain as countless poisons gnaw at my bones. I am fine as I am now: neither happy nor sad, calm and steady, with nothing left that can stir even the faintest ripple in my heart.
For all the ages to come, I will not remember you. Across the Four Seas and Eight Wastelands, within the Six Realms, above the heavens and below the earth, even on the road to the Yellow Springs, we will never meet again.
