What meaning does life have? For what purpose have we been created? What function was I crafted to fulfill in the endless tapestry of creation?
Mystery surrounds our meaning and purpose. We try to find the essence of our existence. Many have come to the conclusion that the "Creator" has given us a purpose in this world, to become something greater than He made us, to surpass the very limits of His "design".
And when we've attained what the "Creator" desires, then, what? What meaning will there be for us to exist for? Do we now lose our essence?
No. Our very purpose is to strive to attain the unattainable. Our very meaning is that we died trying to reach out to a world beyond our comprehension. This is our purpose and meaning.
But what if I do not desire to follow His designation? What if I desire to be something else–a flaw in His "weaving"?
Can you?
Can you be anything else than what he has designed you to be? You are His creation. A part of Him, carved and imbued with all that you think you are. Every movement, every thought, every desire, every emotion and everything that you are is but a single thread in his endless tapestry of weaving–An insignificant thread that He can do away with.
You have no freewill.
There exist no other deductions as to what our meaning and purpose is in this endless weaving other than the one "woven" by the Creator?
Who knows, there might be others as paramount as that of the one woven by the Creator. Who knows…
Some believe that the essence of creation doesn't lie on the fact that we were created to fulfill a specific purpose and to embody a designated meaning. Instead, they believe that the essence of our existence is to find our own individual meaning. To them, there exists no inherent meaning and purpose. They believe we are the loom of our own purpose and meaning–the threads that weave into reality, our own essence.
Individuality…
Isn't it poetic?
*****
The night had just begun not too long ago. Twilight fading, a darkness blanketing everything in a gloomy atmosphere–an atmosphere befitting the madness raging around in the world presently.
The whispering winds came along with the darkness–thiefs, others will call them. The frigidity brought along by these whispering winds bit into the unprotected flesh, causing Andrew to shiver slightly. The winds rustling his oversized shirt was all he could hear from atop this skyscraper.
'I should have worn something cozier than this,' Andrew–in a his blue oversized shirt that clearly didn't belong to him–thought while rubbing his palms together. His body trembled slightly every now and then.
Turning his head to his left, he saw Isabella who was seated at the edge of the skyscraper, oblivious to the frigid winds rustling her purple nightgown. It was as if she was immune to the biting cold.
Staring at her a little longer, several thoughts appeared in Andrew's mind. Why wasn't she shivering the way he was? He was quite certain that this silken dress provided even less protection against the cold than his oversized shirt.
A more unbefitting thought appeared alongside that. To be fair, he couldn't be blamed for staring even longer. Isabella, he had no true words to describe it, was just inhumanely captivating that it felt… wrong?
'Having lecherous thoughts after savagely murdering over a million people? Honestly, I'm not surprised. Not surprised one bit…' A soft whisper rang within his mind.
At first, he thought it was Isabella as his body tensed up and then, he realized it was just those whispering voices returning again.
What has changed? Why were the voices returning all of a sudden after being quiet for so long? Several hours of silence was considered by Andrew as a long time considering the fact that they typically only stayed silent for a few minutes at most.
"Andrew, why did you choose your abilities?" Isabella suddenly asked after remaining silent for the past fifteen minutes that she had brought them up here.
"Everyone has a reason as to why they chose the specific abilities they chose. You have yours and I have mine. Some of us chose randomly, most chose with the intention of having the strongest combination, few chose for personal reasons… Which category do you fall into, Andrew?" Isabella's beautiful black hair that seemed to be made of the finest silk, cascading down her back, was constantly caressed by the night winds but they–ever so perfect–were never permanently displaced.
"Tell me, Andrew, why did you make your choice? What compelled you to make it?" Her sweet voice rang out–undisturbed by the winds that now hallowed–in amusement.
Andrew chose to remain silent. Not because he didn't want to speak up. He just couldn't.
Somehow, he had forgotten why he had specifically chosen those very abilities. He knew that some deep thinking had gone into the decision-making. So, why couldn't he remember what it was?
Andrew stood there in silence, listening to the hallows of the wind, unable to respond. He just continued to sweep his gaze around the barely lit city, distracting himself.
Aspros, the city they were in, was another city that experienced the force of the Chosens, although Isabella and her gang were able to terminate the Issue rather quickly. Andrew already deduced the Chosen probably didn't have the best abilities.
Unfortunately, they didn't shed much light on what really happened, just some vague information that was flung was all he managed to catch.
"You won't say anything, Andrew?" Isabella turned slightly to stare at Andrew. Andrew felt that it was unfortunate that he couldn't see that well in the dark. He'd loved to gaze into those mesmerizing eyes of hers.
'The fuck is wrong with you, Andrew?' His voice, utterly confused, sounded in his mind.
'I really don't know. I don't know…' He responded with a sigh. He knew that he really shouldn't be conjuring such thoughts when the guilt of what he had done and what he had become should be weighing down on his mind and yet... He just couldn't stop himself.
"Alright then. Though, I hadn't guessed you'd decide to remain silent. That isn't much of a problem. It's quite understandable that you'd refuse to reveal personal things to a stranger like me. You know nearly nothing about what's going on. Oblivious to everything. But I can change that." Isabella's mumbling drifted in the winds and into his ears. He knew the winds desired to steal her voice, to suffused the world in its melody. Something so beautiful shouldn't be allowed fade, it was to drift through the world, carried by the winds as an endless song.
'Nope. You guessed right. I would have told you. Unfortunately, I can't seem to remember why I chose my abilities.' Andrew wanted to tell her but simply chose to remain silent.
"When I was nine, my parents took me and my siblings to Laston, the city of Ruins, the land that held the few of the remains of the past for everyone to see. A city that had amalgamated modernity with the antique. It was a different feeling, I tell you. I was captivated. Designs and structures that should only exist on books were sprawling all over the place. Have you been to Laston, Andrew?" Isabella turned to Andrew.
"No but I've seen photos of the city of Ruins. It was captivating and everything about it was intriguing but... not to this extent you seem to describe it." Andrew replied honestly with a shrugged.
"Photos only give the flawed imagery of what is true. Laston should never be experienced through those images, they tell lies. The real thing, Andrew, is incomprehensibly better. It's not merely the sight, Andrew. The scent in the air, the tension created by the overwhelmingly complex structures, the atmosphere… everything takes you to a different world–to a different time that seemed to be the peak of art and humanity. I was a child but I was enthralled, Andrew. At that very moment, when my eyes imprinted the scenery, when my skin memorized the caressing of those timeless winds, when my nose would never forget the scents pervading the air and when my entire existence decided to carve the entire experience into its being, I knew what I desired, Andrew. I, Isabella, desired to experience a world different from the bland current one. I desired something different, Andrew. I wanted to experience the same feelings I felt when I saw Laston years ago. I wanted to lose myself in another reality. To live a life that could have been... In another time." Isabella seemed lost as her melodious voice sang wonderously into the night, the thieving winds eagerly spreading her mellifluous voice through the world like some benevolent deity.
"And that's why I chose Rift as one of my abilities. To be anywhere whenever you desire to be there, isn't this what I needed, Andrew? What greater 'a wish come true' could there be, if not this? For years, I've dreamt of a time I could experience that same feelings once again. Wrong! Not 'once again'. I wanted to experience the feelings Laston birthed in me endlessly. I wanted to indulge in that strange bliss, Andrew…" Her voice slowly trailed off, the winds lessened their motion as if listening quietly for her inhumanely pleasant voice to once again resonate with them.
Andrew remained silent. He had nothing on his mind except for everything Isabella had said. Her voice kept echoing in his mind. A pleasant experience that drove away profane things that dwell within his mind. He didn't pay that much attention to the pleasant feelings pervading his mind currently.
Andrew felt like he could partly understand the kind of person he was dealing with. No one was ever as simple as they looked but Isabella... There was something wrong about her.
"And yet, I'll never be able to experience the same thing again, Andrew. That strangely blissful feelings that soar through my form and brought me beyond the firmament and into a world of timeless, unfathomable pleasure." Isabella stood up and began walking slowly towards Andrew, who was just a few steps away from her.
She covered those distance in a single moment. Andrew was stunned by how close she was. Her arousing scent ravaging his senses as her impeccable face came up close to his. They were nearly the same height, with Andrew only being a couple centimeters taller and yet, she seemed to be taller than him as she gazed piercingly into his eyes.
"Do you know why, Andrew?" The moment her lips parted, a whole new level of ravaging began. She was just too alluring for his male instinct!
'Fuck!!! How can a human be so appealing?? Something's definitely wrong here.' Andrew thought with urgency as his mind was slowly deteriorating under the incomprehensible force of the world of pleasurable fragrance that Isabella had mercilessly plunged him into.
"Because there are people out there taking the soul away from those beautiful cities. Scarring them, burning them, bringing true ruination on the very thing that gave them their immeasurable appeals. Because of people like that, I will never know the bliss I desire. Because of people like us–like you…" Her eyes burned with a certain rage directed towards him in particular before it vanished.
Isabella created some distance between them, her eyes-now without the raging inferno-still gazing into his. In the next moment, she turned around.
"I know you did none of those things you did intentionally. You have no desire to bring ruination upon the innocents… but does your intentions matter? Your choices has led to the terrible outcome that befell those people. The lives you took, Andrew, will remain with you. The misery you caused, you will remember." She began. This time, the winds remained silent, aware of the anger being suppressed within that pleasant voice.
"You can still redeem yourself, Andrew. Do you know why you still live when I could have simply broken your neck the way I broke those chains that bound you?"
'What's she getting at? Everything she's been saying has been a build-up to this finale?' Despite how overwhelming everything has been since, Andrew seemed to still be able to maintain a certain level of rationality. Considering he dealt with those profane whispers constantly, Isabella's enthrallment was slightly ineffective against him... Only slightly though.
"Why didn't you?" Andrew answered predictably.
"Because we've all made mistakes. These powers…" Isabella uttered, clenching her hand into a fist. "... They are wrong. No, it's not the powers. It's the wielders. We are wrong, Andrew."
Andrew remained silent because he was genuinely stunned. Most people would be unable guess what was happening but he could accurately guess it.
'Don't tell me…' He was right. Isabella was empathizing with him. What it meant to Andrew was that… she had done something similar to what he did to Grede or carried as much weight as what he did to Grede?
That was the only way it made sense why he hadn't been killed. What he had done should demand no trial. Death was the obvious penalty that should befall him and yet...
"Andrew…"
"Yes, Isabella?"
"What is it you yearn for?"
"I don't know. What is there to yearn for?"
"Do you want to yearn, Andrew?
"Maybe…"
"Then, together, two individuals that no longer have anything to yearn for, seeks a purpose in this crumbling world?"
"Together?"
"Do you have a problem with that? Do you have any problem with searching for a purpose together with me in this world, Andrew?"
"None."
"Oh right, I forgot the real reason I actually brought you up here. It's been so long since I've expressed myself so deeply. Anyways, shall we start with the matter, Andrew?"
"Can't we discuss it in a place more… comfortable?"
"Ah, I do apologize. It's quite breezy up here. Alright then, let's grab a bite at the cafeteria and we can discuss the matter there."
"Fine with me."
*****
And there are those that believe that our very existence is meaningless and everything that came to be had no intentions to create life.
They believe we are merely a byproduct of something else.
A mistake, they say...