Rolan felt it A tremor, a subtle shift in the cosmic tapestry, a whisper across the infinite expanse of existence. It was a soul, familiar and yet achingly distant – the soul of his father, Mundo.
Countless years, lifetimes of stars birthing and dying, galaxies colliding and reforming, had passed since Mundo's last departure.
Now, a flicker. A nascent spark in the swirling chaos of souls being reborn. Rolan focused his awareness, his consciousness spanning across dimensions, and located the origin of the newfound signature. He found it nestled on a small, verdant planet, teeming with life and bathed in the golden light of a young sun. There, in a humble village, a baby had just been born.
Rolan couldn't directly interfere. The laws of the omniverse, the delicate dance of free will and consequence, forbade it. He could only observe, a silent guardian watching over a single, tiny flame.
And so he watched. He saw the child grow, a boy named Rada, loved by his parents, cherished by his community. Rada was a bright spark, curious and compassionate. He spent his days exploring the forests, helping his family with their farm, and sharing his laughter with the other children in the village. Rolan watched Rada learn to walk, to talk, to dream. He saw him stumble, make mistakes, learn from them, and grow stronger.
Ten years. Merely a blink in the cosmic timescale, yet an eternity in the life of a human. Ten years passed, and Rolan saw it. The defining moment. The crossroads.
Rada was walking home from the village market, his small bag filled with spices and sweets. He was skipping along the path when he heard a whimper coming from the dense undergrowth. Hesitantly, he pushed aside the thick leaves and saw a small, injured bird, its wing twisted at an unnatural angle.
In that moment, Rolan felt the shift. The darkness, which had been dormant, a potential seed within Rada's soul, stirred. He saw the flicker of anger, the urge to lash out, to crush something fragile. The boy's brow furrowed, his fists clenched. The air around him seemed to crackle with a barely perceptible energy.
Rolan held his breath, his infinite heart pounding with a dread he hadn't felt in eons. Would the darkness consume him? Would Rada succumb to the same destructive impulses that had led Mundo astray?
But then, Rada took a deep breath. He unclenched his fists and carefully picked up the injured bird. His face was etched with concern, his eyes filled with empathy. He gently cradled the bird in his hands, whispering soothing words.
Rolan knew it then. He knew his father, reborn as Rada, had made a different choice. The darkness hadn't won. Compassion had triumphed.
He couldn't contain himself any longer. Defying the ancient laws, he appeared before him as a simple traveler, his face gentle, his eyes filled with warmth.
Rada, startled but unafraid, looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.
Rolan knelt before the boy, the verdant grass cool beneath his knees. Tears, shimmering with starlight, welled up in his eyes and traced paths down his cheeks. "Rada," he said, his voice a soft rumble that resonated through the very air around them. "My... my Father."
Rada tilted his head, confused, but his eyes held no fear, just innocent curiosity.
"I am proud of you, Father," Rolan continued, his voice thick with emotion. "And so is the divine spirit, weeping tears of joy. You chose light. You chose compassion. This is your life now. Embrace it. Live it fully."
He could sense the confusion swirling within Rada, the nascent understanding battling with the limitations of his young mind. He knew Rada couldn't fully comprehend the scope of his words, the weight of his past lives. But he hoped, with all his being, that the essence of his message would resonate within him.
"And if, in your next life, you choose to walk a path of darkness again… try again. Know that mere millions of reincarnations of darkness would never break his love for you. Never." Rolan reached out and gently touched Rada's cheek, a profound connection passing between them, a silent promise of unwavering support.
Then, just as quickly as he had appeared, Rolan vanished, leaving Rada alone with the injured bird and the lingering echo of a love that spanned across eternity.
Rada looked down at the bird in his hands, his brow furrowed in thought. He felt a strange sense of peace, a profound connection to something larger than himself, a feeling he couldn't quite explain. He knew, instinctively, that he had to help this little creature.
He carefully splinted the bird's wing with twigs and soft leaves, his small hands working with surprising dexterity and gentleness. He would take it home, he decided, and nurse it back to health. He would protect it, care for it, and release it back into the wild when it was strong enough to fly again.
As he carefully carried the bird back to his village, the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. Rada didn't know who the traveler was, or why he had called him "Father." But he felt a sense of purpose, a newfound understanding of the importance of kindness, of compassion, of choosing light over darkness.
Rolan watched from afar, his heart filled with hope. Rada, his Father, had a long journey ahead of him, filled with challenges and temptations. But Rolan knew, deep in his omniscient heart, that he was on the right path. The spark of divinity, once dimmed by darkness, was now burning bright within him.
And as long as that spark remained, Rolan would be there, watching, waiting, and loving, for all eternity. His vigil was not over, but the weight on his shoulders had lessened, replaced by a profound sense of hope and a boundless, unwavering love for him who had finally chosen the light. The omniverse, for now, was safe. And Rolan, the darkness of light the eternal guardian of light, could finally find a moment of peace, knowing that the cycle, for this life at least, was turning towards redemption.