The Time Weaver and the Throne of Ash
Zuo's body was plastered against the earth, the cold mud seeping through his pores, while the scent of mold mixed with dry straw filled his nostrils. In that moment, it wasn't physical pain that occupied his mind; the body rebuilt by that "Entity" was far too strong to be fazed by a trivial fall. What truly burned was his pride. He heard a muffled, malicious chuckle erupt from one of the guards standing at the gate; the laugh of someone watching a supposed "god" turn into a joke in a matter of seconds.
"Is this my fate?" Zuo thought, his eyes sunken into the mud. "Did I come here to be a clown in a farce written by a scoundrel amusing himself with my boredom?"
Zuo felt a strange pulse in his fingertips. "Absolute Touch" was not merely turning stone into gold or flesh into ash. If all existence was a fabric, then time was its sturdiest thread. He recalled the words of the Entity that brought him: "Everything is subject to your touch."
"Then... I shall touch the 'Before' and the 'After'."
Zuo closed his eyes, imagining the world as an old film reel paused on a humiliating frame. He reached out with his "spiritual" hand into the depths of his mind, touching the void that separated the present moment from the instant before the horse stumbled. He felt violent resistance, as if time were a viscous substance fighting change, but his will was a sharp blade.
"Return!" he screamed internally.
Suddenly, a silent explosion occurred in his consciousness. He saw droplets of mud rising from his clothes and returning to the ground, he saw his straw hat flying against gravity to settle atop his head, and he saw his body lift from the mire to settle back onto the saddle of "Pebble." All of this happened in a microsecond. As far as the world was concerned, Zuo had never fallen. To the guards, he had been standing there with terrifying immobility from the very beginning.
Zuo opened his violet eyes, which had grown darker. The guard who was about to laugh froze in place, not because of magic, but because of the look he saw in Zuo's eyes; the look of someone who had just returned from the dead with a heavy debt to settle.
"Pebble..." Zuo whispered, his voice carrying a metallic ring. "Teach them the meaning of prostration."
The great black steed reared up, lifting its front hooves to tower over the gate, blocking out the sun, before letting out a neigh the world had never heard before. It was not merely a sound, but a terrifying sonic wave that struck the chests of the guards and villagers like a hammer of iron. Everyone fell to their knees immediately—not out of respect, but because the air pressure forced their bones to bend.
When Pebble's hooves struck the ground, it was no ordinary impact. The earth shook violently, and deep cracks spread out from beneath the horse's hooves, slithering across the square like black serpents seeking prey, yet they stopped with incredible precision at the people's feet without harming them. It was a clear message: "I can shatter the world beneath you, but I choose to keep you alive to witness my greatness."
Zuo rode his horse into the center of the square, the people trembling like leaves in a storm. Everyone fell silent; even the wind seemed to cease blowing, fearing to interrupt him.
"Raise your dirt-heavy heads!" Zuo proclaimed, his voice filling the corners of the village. "I care not for your loyalties, nor do I care for your prayers to your silent gods. I am here to seek one thing I lost in the hustle of death... I want you to choose a few people from among you to come forth and explain to me, honestly and without falsehood: What is the meaning of pleasure?"
A complete hush fell over them. The people looked at each other in astonishment. "Pleasure?" Was this monster who shattered the earth with his arrival asking about pleasure?
After minutes of terror, three people stepped forward. A young woman in ragged clothes but with vestiges of bygone beauty in her features, a blind old man holding a worn staff, and a massive man who appeared to be the blacksmith.
The woman said with a trembling voice, "My lord... pleasure for me is when my child closes his eyes after being fed, when I forget for a moment that there is a winter coming and hunger waiting for us."
Zuo gestured to the blacksmith, who said roughly, "Pleasure is when the iron obeys me, when I feel that I am the master over the material beneath my hammer."
Finally, the blind old man said with a strange smile, "Pleasure, my son, is to breathe fresh air while knowing you do not have to justify your existence to anyone."
Zuo laughed, a laugh that shook the corners of the square—a laugh not entirely evil, but filled with mockery at the simplicity of these humans. "Beautiful... you have excelled at describing your weakness. And since I enjoyed your explanation, prepare yourselves for my countless blessings."
Zuo gestured toward the sky, and suddenly, threads of golden light began to fall from his fingers. "Now, rise from the ground! I want you to bring me, and yourselves, the finest from your storehouses. Do not fear the winter, for from this day on, your storehouses will never run empty as long as I am here. Bring the meat, the wine, and the bread. Today, we shall hold a banquet worthy of my arrival."
While the villagers rushed to obey his orders with amazement and joy mixed with fear, Zuo began to interrogate the mayor about every detail of this village.
"Tell me about this place... what is its name? Who are your neighbors? And what are the forces you believe rule this world?"
The mayor began to explain in detail: "This is the village of 'Arkonos,' the gateway to the northern forests. We belong to the 'Solaris' Empire, but they only come here to collect taxes. The world is ruled by three great sovereigns, said to be gods in human bodies: 'Lilith,' Queen of Magic; 'Mordred,' Lord of War; and 'Orion,' Judge of Souls. They are the ones who set the laws, and they are the ones who decide who lives and who dies."
Zuo smiled upon hearing the names. "Gods? We shall see about that."
In another dimension, far from the fabric of tangible reality...
In a black void where stars twinkled like wounds in the body of the cosmos, four entities were watching the scene through a massive cosmic mirror.
The first entity, the "Mediator" who brought Zuo, was smiling a mysterious smile. "Look at him... he has already begun to manipulate time. I did not expect him to discover this ability on his first day."
As for the other three entities, they were the true rulers of the world.
Lilith spoke in a voice resembling the hissing of snakes: "He is chaotic. His touching of time causes tears in my magical fabric. He must be erased before he spoils the balance."
Mordred replied with terrifying calm: "No... I want to see how he fights. His ego reminds me of myself when I was human. Let him rule his trivial village; we shall see how he holds up when we send the shadow armies."
As for Orion, he was silent, looking at Zuo's soul, which shone with a violet light. "This person does not have a normal soul... he does not belong to this world, and the laws of death do not apply to him. He represents the 'Oblivion' we all fear."
The Mediator said, "I gave him power so that he might break your boredom. Did you not complain that the world had become predictable? Here is Zuo, the person who does not recognize fate, and he has only just begun."
Back in the village, the tables were set, and delicious aromas wafted everywhere. Zuo sat at the head of the table, the horse "Pebble" standing behind him like a terrifying bodyguard. The villagers were eating with a voracity they had never known before, looking at Zuo as if he were a divine savior.
But Zuo was not eating. He was looking at his hands, thinking about the mayor's words regarding the "Three Sovereigns."
"True pleasure..." Zuo whispered to himself as he touched a goblet of wine, turning it into pure gold in an instant amid everyone's astonishment, "...is not in eating or drinking... Pleasure is seeing these 'Gods' kneeling in this mud I fell into."
Zuo raised his golden goblet high and said, in a voice that shook the hearts of the three sovereigns in their distant dimension: "To the age of 'Zuo'... the age of the Grand Farce!"