Wis continued observing the mortal realm. A few years later, on a quiet night in a small town, a child was born beneath a sky full of stars. His parents named him José Protacio Rizal Mercado y Alonzo Realonda. They could not have known that the world would one day remember that name.
As a child, José called Pepe was small, shy, and thoughtful. While other boys played in the fields, he watched the world closely: the ants, the clouds, the river that ran behind their house. He loved to read beside his mother, Teodora Alonso, who taught him how to pray, write, and dream.
One day, his mother told him a story about a moth drawn to a flame. The moth burned, but it did not turn away.
"Never be afraid of the light," she said softly. "Even if it hurts."
Those words stayed in his heart forever.
At nine, Pepe began formal schooling. Smaller than the other children, he was often teased, yet he answered every question with calm intelligence. He learned languages and poetry and spent nights reading by candlelight.
One day, he returned home to find his mother imprisoned on false charges. It was his first taste of injustice. Silently, he swore that one day, he would fight it not with anger, but with knowledge.
José became one of the brightest students of his time. He wrote poems about youth, faith, and love for his country. Later, he studied at university, but he felt unseen and discriminated against. So, at twenty-one, he left his homeland and traveled abroad.
There, he studied medicine, specializing in the eyes perhaps because he always wanted people to see. But even as he healed eyes, he dreamed of opening the eyes of his nation.
In foreign lands, Rizal met other Filipinos who dreamed of change. He listened more than he spoke, but his silence carried thought. He began writing a novel Noli Me Tangere a story that revealed the pain, corruption, and blind obedience in his homeland. It was not a book of hatred, but of truth. And truth can be dangerous.
When Noli Me Tangere was published, it shocked the powerful. He later wrote El Filibusterismo, darker and deeper a mirror showing what happens when hope turns to rage.
Returning home, Rizal was watched closely. He was exiled to a small town, yet he did not waste a single day. He built a small school, taught children, farmed, and treated the sick. He drew maps, built water systems, and found joy in small acts of creation. He showed that even without power, one could still serve.
At night, he wrote letters filled with hope and philosophy:
"The pen is useless if it serves only pride, but it becomes sacred when it serves truth."
He also met Josephine, whom he loved deeply a brief light in his quiet exile.
When revolution broke out, though Rizal did not lead it, the powers that be blamed him for inspiring it through his words. He was arrested and imprisoned. Inside his cell, he wrote his final poem, Mi Último Adiós My Last Farewell. It spoke not of hatred, but of peace, sacrifice, and love for his country.
On the cold morning of his execution, José Rizal stood tall, hands tied, eyes calm. As the soldiers raised their rifles, he whispered a prayer. The shots rang out, and he fell but before hitting the ground, he turned his body to face the rising sun. Even in death, he looked toward the light.
Years passed. He had changed his country, struggled, and fought yet the nation never forgot the man who had opened its eyes. His words lived longer than his body. His courage taught generations that true power comes not from fear or violence, but from thinking, loving, and standing for truth, even when it costs everything.
He was the boy who once watched a moth fly toward a flame and in the end, he became the flame himself.
Wis stared at the Father, who said:
"To live with eyes closed is to survive; to open them, even in pain, is to begin to live."
The life of José Rizal was not just a tale of heroism it was a study of awakened existence. He lived as one who saw what others refused to see: the injustice, the ignorance, the fear. And in seeing, he accepted the burden of understanding. Knowledge alone made him aware; wisdom made him act.
"He knew that to challenge darkness is not to destroy it, but to light a candle, knowing the flame is fragile and might consume you. Yet he lit it anyway. Remember, Wis: a man's worth is not measured by how long he lives, but by how deeply he dares to see and how bravely he chooses to act. To be alive is not enough one must awaken. To awaken is not enough one must move. And to move is not enough one must move toward the truth, even when it hurts. For in the end, the moth does not regret its flight toward the flame. It only regrets never having flown at all."
Wis sat in deep thought. For the first time, he felt something new stir within him a spark of understanding, a sense that perhaps he too was born to walk the path of a sage.