Aether Nexus: Curse of Love & Hatred

In a small room, alight by moonlight seeping in from a giant window on the western wall, a sickly young boy lay in bed.

His chest was rising and falling in uneven breaths. His long, dark-green hair cascaded over his pillow, obscuring his pale, almost ghostly face. His skin was flushed with the heat of an illness that had lingered for as long as he could remember—yet its origin remained a mystery.

The room around him was a child's sanctuary: a puzzle-piece rug sprawled across the floor, scattered toys surrounding it, and in the far corner stood a giant stuffed wolf-dog. Its fur was a mossy green, while its mane sported a lighter shade of green, and its eyes were nothing more than black, horizontal slits, staring blankly ahead, almost like a silent guardian.

The boy stirred in his sleep, his dreams restless. His breathing, labored and shallow, made soft wheezing sounds in the quiet room. He shifted under the covers, trying to find a position he found most comfortable amougst the pain.

Suddenly, he heard it—quiet taps against the glass of his huge bedroom window. His foggy mind began to awaken, his drowsy thoughts filling with a flicker of excitement.

He first thought of Liam, the man who always made time to teach him, even when his health kept him away from the other children.

It could even be the village chiefess, Tsubasa, who commonly visited him throughout the nights to check up on him and read him stories.

Maybe it was Dama, his best friend, who would sometimes come at odd hours to cheer him up. Mumu and Nina were the only individuals that were deemed safe enough to play with him, something he enjoyed every second of. Anyone else risked either hurting his fragile body on accident, or compromising his weak immune system just by being near.

He turned slowly on his back, still heavy with sleep, and craned his neck toward the window. But his excitement evaporated in an instant, replaced by confusion.

The figure outside wasn't Dama, it wasn't Liam, nor was it Tsubasa. It was a man neither he, or anyone in the village, couldn't recognize.

The figure standing before the window took the form of a tall black man, dressed entirely in white—a flowing chiton that seemed to glow in the moonlight, with a white turban wrapped around his head.

Around his neck and limbs, golden necklaces hung loosely, their chains glimmering as they moved with the breeze. The necklaces chimed softly, an eerie, rhythmic sound that contrasted with the otherwise still night.

The boy’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened, and he froze in place, staring at the stranger outside his window.

The man's expression was calm, almost too calm, and his presence sent a chill crawling down the boy's spine. He had never seen this man before, and yet, something about him felt both distant and near to him.

The wind started to pick up outside, rustling the leaves of the trees. Yet, the man, and even his robe, remained unfazed, his ghostly visage like a statue beneath the moonlight.

The boy’s heart pounded in his chest, fear rising as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He could hear his own breathing now, faster and more panicked, mingling with the soft chimes of the man’s necklaces.

"Who is this? Why is he here?" the boy thought, unable to move or speak, his wide eyes locked on the stranger outside his window. He hoped that it was just a fevered dream, but dreading that it wasn’t.

Sensing the growing distress, the stranger softened his stance, his golden necklaces ceasing their eerie chime as he raised a hand to his chest in a gentle, respectful gesture.

Then, he spoke, “Be not afraid, child.” the man said, bowing slightly. His voice came forth with an otherworldly calm, carrying the weight of the stars themselves. “I am Saa'ir, and I will not hurt you, I promise. You must be Juin Adin…”

The soft, spirit-like tone of Saa'ir's voice filled the room, though it only made the boy's confusion deepen.

Juin, still lying down, felt a shiver course through him as he struggled to speak. His voice was frantic and hushed as he asked, "H-How do... How do you know my name? And your voice... Who are you?"

Saa'ir paused at Juin’s question, his blank eyes flickering for a moment as memories stirred within him. For a fleeting second, visions of eight distinct figures danced in his mind, each one standing before distinct symbols.

It was the vision he had of the eight Sin Incarnations not long ago, and one of them was Juin. He could never forget the longing in the boy's eyes—fitting for the Sin Incarnation of Envy.

Saa'ir then remembered how he had seen the very stars themselves bend, revealing each of these eight figures, all connected by not only their symbols and the dark forces they held, but also him in some way.

All of them were figures bound by their potential to either shape the world—or destroy it. God forbid they came together in one place...

And now, here was Juin, one of them, lying before him in the flesh.

Saa'ir’s gaze returned to the present moment, where Juin still stared at him with fear and curiosity, waiting for an answer. His voice softened once more, as if treading on a rope through the delicate web of destiny. “I know your name, Young Juin,” Saa'ir said, his tone slow and deliberate, “because the stars have shown me much."

"The...stars?" Juin weakly responded as he looked up at his star patterned ceiling. "Oh yeah... I remember that... Gran-Gran Tsubasa told me...that the stars could do that...that they were alive..." his gaze became somber. "I've always wanted...to see the stars... But I can't..."

A solemn pause settled in the atmosphere as Saa'ir watched Juin gaze at his ceiling. Then, Juin shook his head and turned his attention back to Saa'ir with a small smile on his face. "Please, mister...this vision...tell me more."

Saa'ir mirrored Juin's tiny smile, and nodded. "Please believe me when I say this, Young Juin, the stars are very much alive and beautiful. Their light shines for all of us, and their radiance know no bounds—something I believe everyone should see, including you. They showed me visions of you, and seven others. I think we are all bound in some way by Fate, Destiny, or some other force...” he paused, studying the boy’s face, unsure how much to reveal.

Juin blinked, still not fully comprehending what was being said, but he couldn’t deny the eerie familiarity in Saa'ir’s voice. He felt as though he had known this man before, though he couldn’t place from where. "Seven...others? We're all bound...?” Juin’s voice trembled, his sickness briefly forgotten as his heart raced with anticipation.

Saa'ir glanced back towards the stars, his thoughts drifting through the vision. He could see the fat man, the conqueror, the boy with the weasel—all of them. Each one stood before him in his mind’s eye, powerful and dangerous in their own ways.

He turned back to Juin, his voice taking on a grave, almost protective tone. “It's a mystery I too seek the answers to. All I know is that you and the other seven are a part of something greater that stretches possibly eight hundred years. However, I doubt you should worry about such a thing.”

As Saa'ir spoke, his golden necklaces shifted again, making the softest chime in the night air, as if reminding Juin that this man was more than just a visitor. He was something far greater, which only emphasized his words of near-prophecy.

Though, his words fell on preoccupied ears, as Juin's mind swirled with questions. "Why does he feel so familiar? Shouldn't I be screaming for help? Shouldn't I be scared?" he thought, his heart pounding, yet oddly calm in Saa'ir's presence.

But, there was one question that overpowered all others. The boy’s breath remained shallow from his illness, but his voice came out steadier than before as he asked, “Mr. Saa'ir... Why are you here?”

Saa'ir, still standing outside the window, met Juin's eyes with a somber look, his presence almost ethereal in the moonlight. His necklaces clinked as he tilted his head, seemingly contemplating how to answer, as he already knew Juin was not long for this world.

Looking into Juin's eyes though, those eyes filled with a longing for simple freedom and companionship, Saa'ir smiled gently. “I came here to see you, Young Juin.” he finally said, his voice low and filled with quiet conviction. "Out of all the places in this world, I sought you, because you're special."

Juin blinked, his confusion growing. "Why me?" he thought, still processing the strange situation. He couldn't understand why someone so mysterious, would come looking for him, a sickly boy stuck in bed.

Saa'ir seemed to sense Juin's internal struggle, his gaze becoming gentler. "Remember how I said I saw you in a vision, along with seven others, and I didn't know what it meant?" Saa'ir continued, his voice carrying the weight of something much larger than either of them. "I thought that by coming to see one of you—one of the special eight figures I saw in the very stars themselves—it might help me understand why I've been called to this world."

Juin's eyes widened. He couldn't wrap his mind around it, his thoughts racing. "Called to this world?"

Saa'ir let the silence linger for a moment, allowing the boy time to absorb the gravity of his words. Then, in a softer tone, he added, "I do not fully understand the purpose of my presence here, but I believe meeting you will help me uncover the truth."

Juin’s smile widened, despite the dull pain in his body, when he heard that Saa'ir had come looking for him specifically. "Have you found what you were looking for?" he asked with a hint of hope, happy to have a visitor, especially someone who seemed so important and mysterious, like some main character of a fairytale.

Saa'ir's head dipped in thought for a moment, his expression unreadable. Just as Juin was about to ask what was wrong, something extraordinary happened. Saa'ir, without moving to open the window, phased through the wall and stepped into the room as if the window didn't exist.

Juin's eyes grew wide with shock and wonder. "H-How did you do that, Mr. Saa'ir!?" the boy stammered, unable to comprehend what he'd just witnessed.

Saa'ir smiled and tilted his head in a playful manner. "It might be hard to believe," he began, his voice calm and serene, "but I'm only a ghost, a wandering spirit of sorts."

Juin's shock turned to excitement. "You mean just like in the fairyta—!" he tried to shoot up in bed but was immediately struck by a sharp, crippling pain that coursed through his fragile body. With a gasp, he collapsed back onto the bed, groaning from the sudden agony.

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Next: (Chapter 56) Enohay’s Ghostly Visitor: Part 2