2023-07-02
A month later and I’m still wandering through the Mili universe; this song is called Summoning 101.
Hearing a soft, melodic chant, I step through a portal that suddenly appears before me; tiptoeing to her desk, this witch with hair like twilight. She’s writing a fresh page of notes on paper—likely the very spell that summoned me.
Everything in this world feels so magical to me: autumn moon’s falling leaves, summer’s gentle breeze, spring’s floral scent, and the witch’s bouncing short hair.
In my world, time was later proven not to be one-dimensional as people think. Or rather, “one-dimensional” alone can’t capture the intricate web of time. To me, time is a gift, flowing through each person one after another, leaving its mark.
We can’t communicate—my fangs and claws are useless here. She speaks to me over and over in words I don’t understand; I don’t understand, but they sound like songs.
But no matter—take my paw! Teach me your language, show me the wonders of this world.
I know this meeting might just be a small joke of time—or at least, I used to know. Because later I grew bolder, grew greedier, and actually wished these moments could last a little longer, just a little longer.
—And then the portal connecting two worlds suddenly collapsed.
I reached out, futilely trying to grasp her. As the door closed, my left arm was severed. Autumn moon withers, summer scorches, spring only brings allergies. Everything looks so desolate. Can I miss you? I howled, I long for you.
But it sounded like a one-armed wolf cub whimpering in an empty field under the night sky.
Then time kept flowing, and I wandered aimlessly. Many years passed, but the mark she left never faded—I wandered. These memories give me strength; even with one arm, life is manageable—I wandered. I kept pondering the meaning of life, the delicate connection between life and time—I wandered. And her beautiful words—I never forgot them, even though I still don’t understand—I wandered.
Then the door opened again.
Her hunched figure flickered in the blizzard; I rushed over, trying to shield her. In her dying moments, she saw me—tears flowed, ignited, and her flesh began to dissolve.
The storm stopped. In the broken hut, I looked around—nothing was as it once was.
On the table lay 617 pages of intricate notes—the fruit of a thousand years of her wisdom. Scattered around were materials used as catalysts—she had been searching for me across tens of millions of worlds for years.
At the center of the magic circle, I held her withered bones—this witch with hair like moonlight.
For the last time—take my paw! Even if the seasons are no longer clear, in this apocalyptic midwinter; even if youth is gone, even if hair is silver, your crystal-clear eyes still shine like torches—so beautiful…
I tried to speak to her, but all that came out was a long wolf’s howl.
Owoooooooooooooooooooo
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