I Hate Being The Protagonist

In the midst of a giant desert situated in Emperia—a region of Eviansis—a shrine covertly pokes out of the endless dunes of sand. For someone passing by, this could be mistaken for a mere hallucination, as the air dances in this unbearable heat, and the compact temple wears the same colors as the monotonous desert sand.

Whilst peeking into the desert shrine, one could only find a single monk sitting on a dusty chair, hidden from the blazing sun.

A vase filled with water and covered by a wooden top could also be seen while searching through the whole shrine.

If one only looks with his eyes, he shall see nothing. Perking your ears up, you would only hear the quiet breeze of the desert wind. The unappealing nature of this simple temple isn't all there is to this faraway location though.

No one can accidentally stumble upon this ancient structure, as it is fortified by subtle magic which isn't present to a person's aura sense. The mana blends into the background of this sandy landscape, untraceable to wandering individuals.

A single man covered by layers of white cloth trenches through this unforgiving place. Reaching this obscure temple was this man's goal, after years of strenuous research and dead ends. In search of this mysterious place, tears had to be shed, blood had to be seeped and sweat had to be poured.

With every step he takes, the large backpack he carries on his back rumbles with metallic bottles and food boxes, glass jars and tools one needs to survive this long journey.

The man reaches the doors, knocking 4 times even though it is open for him to set foot inside.

"I request entrance," the man says, sitting down on the only other chair except the monk's.

The monk replies by simply saying "Patience."

The man takes his backpack off, sighing audibly. He stretches his neck and takes out a diary and a pencil. His long journey has been documented in a meticulous handwriting, one that could easily be traced to his demanding academic education. A PhD in advanced artifact engineering, one that takes at least 6 years of extended schooling. This man wasn't a dumb traveler with no concrete plan.

The secret of this mysterious temple isn't something one can easily search for in a public library. Through years of research, and the already elongated time of achieving enlightenment, the requirements for this shrine were above and beyond.

After 10 long years of obtaining enlightenment–during which he graduated–he had to spend a few more, asking people for clues, finding lost relics and visiting ancient ruins.

However, such an esteemed man wouldn't throw his life away for nothing. The secret of this shrine must've held a promising reward, where spending a portion of your life was worth it.

The man waited for a long time, writing page after page. He even drew the shrine in excruciating detail, his pencil shortening in the process. After closing his diary, he looked around, searching for something to quench his boredom. Hours have passed, and the monk was still silently sitting on his chair, eyes closed.

[Is he sleeping?] the man asks himself.

He approaches the monk, staring at him. The monk doesn't seem to react, so the guy just gives up after a few minutes. Thirst has made its way up the man's throat, making him painfully swallow.

The rules were simple enough.

He couldn't drink from the water vase, until allowed to do so. Asking the monk for permission was also out of the question, as the rules stated he couldn't say anything except the request for entrance.

He tried conjuring water up, as he was well acquainted with the principles of water magic. His affinity was earthen magic, but anyone could gather water through magic after studying artifacts for so long. There were many of these artifacts which used water and its magic to summon it, so he knew how to replicate those effects.

[I mean, what's using a simple elemental magic spell after I became a higher being?] he reasons to himself.

His logic was foolproof, as gaining enlightenment was certainly harder than using water magic. However, when he tried to create water droplets, an insurmountable wall of failure welcomed him. No water was made. This whole area had a restrictive magic, so that no humidity was possible except that found in the vase and in one's body. This restriction was only for enlightened individuals, as non-enlightened ones couldn't even traverse into this place.

Unable to conjure up water, his body started to feel the effects of thirst even more. Looking over his shoulder, his eyes were set on a specific vase he knew held water. Stories he heard told of this pure water, cool even in this scorching sun.

[No, I didn't come here for nothing] he tells himself.

Sitting down on the floor, the man waits a bit longer...

-

After a whole day and a half has passed, dehydration hit like a train. The man's lips were cracked dry, his skin having no moisture. After enduring this torture for almost two days, it was enough.

"Come on, I'll die if you don't allow me to drink water," he desperately complains.

The monk does not respond, sitting silently, still unmoving.

The man opens the lid of the vase, finding crystal clear water that gives off a cool sensation when his face approaches it.

Drinking the fresh liquid, he's hit with a feeling of ecstasy, finally quenching the unbearable thirst.

His ribs were protruding on his skin, a sign of malnutrition. Whilst in search of this place, the desert wasn't kind-hearted. He already ate all of the food he had and drank all of the water he carried.

"Oh man, there's no better feeling than this..."

He lies down and thinks about his life. His mind was already flooded with thoughts, now clearing out and leaving him with blank space.

[Damn it, how long do I have to wait?]

-

Another whole day passed, and the man had enough. He could get over the hunger, but what did patience mean? Would he have to wait here for a week, a month? How long would this monk sit there?

The man already read through the book he carried with him. Deciding to reread it, he sat down and spent another day here. After the day passed, he dusted every part of the shrine, even moving dust from the monk's robes.

[How is he even alive? He didn't move one inch, not even to drink water...]

3 days passed and the man couldn't bare it any longer. He felt like he was going insane, talking to the monk about his life while the latter sat in silence.

"Come on, just tell me how to enter the secret temple. I've come such a long way and spent so much time on this! Isn't that enough patience!?" he raises his voice.

He shakes the monk, desperate to get an answer. Despite his aggressive approach and continuous yelling, the silence doesn't change.

[I have to do something] the man thinks, exiting the shrine.

During the day, the heat irritated the man, while the nights were cold, enough to cause shivering even though the man covered himself in the white cloth he traveled with. The monk never complained, simply sitting in his chair.

[Are there any clues outside?] the man inquires, venturing into the dull dune-filled plains.

He falls onto his knees, broken by the inability to reach his goals and loneliness that's befallen him during this journey.

[How much longer...]

In a few days, the man might die of hunger if he remains here. His athleticism is enough to carry him into the well-developed cities of Emperia, even in this malnourished state. After all, after being enlightened getting anywhere isn't problematic, as the Overworld is a simple lower dimension with parts of it having higher dimensional influence. As soon as this man decides to leave, the only difficult part would be the first few miles, after which he could cross a small country's worth of land due to him being a higher being.

[Even though I could, I won't give up. I'd rather die than waste all of that time I've spent, throwing it away]

Cursing his choice and the unfortunate fate, he let's out a tear of sorrow.

[If only I knew what to do...]

When he wiped his tear, an image of someone walking towards the shrine prompts him to stand up. The person had white robes, similar to what he was wearing. Was this an illusion made by the scorching heat? No, it was definitely a person slowly approaching him.

"I've been saved, the Messiah is here!" the man cheers.

Taking his hood off, the person reveals his appearance. A young boy no older than his early teens, with glowing emerald eyes and light amber hair. The young boy had a very attractive appearance for his age, but his dazzling nature wasn't what surprised the man. The strange part was this kid's aura, he was enlightened!

The man couldn't read his aura, even after staring at him impolitely.

"Can I help you?" the boy asks.

"H-how did you get here??" the man stutters, not seeing a backpack on the kid's back.

"I walked. Don't you know it's impossible to get here otherwise," the young boy lectures, continuing his walk towards the desert temple.

Passing the man with an uninterested expression, the young boy knocks 4 times on the door. "I request entrance," he says.

"Patience," the monk responds.

The man's eyes bulge out, as he sees and hears something unprecedented. This kid knew the passcode to enter the shrine, and got here without any stuff, traveling only in his clothes.

[At least I know that the monk didn't die] the man inwardly notes.

"Hey kid, what's your name?" the man asks, walking back into the shrine. As he receives silence, his blood boils. He puts a hand on the kid's shoulder, threatening to punch him if he doesn't respond.

"I swear if you don't answer me–"

His words are cut short as a white crystal blade appears on his neck, the sharp edge almost cutting into his skin. He couldn't see the young boy draw his sword—or where he drew it from—but a sense of danger made him stagger backwards and fall onto his ass.