Hailstorm Story

(In a desolate place) A young man in a white robe emerged from the dust, his footsteps echoing in the vast and empty hall. The sound of his pacing reverberated through the silent space. Approaching the tree crowned with a regal crown, the young man bowed respectfully, deeply bending at the waist. He then sat cross-legged on the empty floor, and in the quiet stillness, the rustling of leaves began. "Good evening!" The massive tree, radiant like a crown, responded to the young man's greeting beneath the starry sky. "Good evening! Is there anything I can help you with?" spoke the godly tree beneath the starry night. "It seems like a long time has passed, hasn't it?" The light blue leaves trembled slightly, as if echoing thoughtful reflections. "Of course! Consider me your listener; I will offer help as I have in the past." "In my mind, there exists a palace of memories that I can't shake off, fragmented images. I've been wanting to connect with it, appearing in my dreams from time to time." The leaves rustled, seemingly lost in thought. "That sounds like a profound memory. The memory palace is an interesting psychological phenomenon, associating information with specific places or scenes to aid in easier recall. Young traveler, do you have something you want to share, or do you wish to talk about your past experiences, whether they be humiliating or sad?" The young man lit a cigarette, speaking slowly with a slightly hoarse yet remarkably calm voice. "It started as simple fragments, influenced by my own idyllic childhood, books I've read, and movies I've watched. I began secretly recording everything since I was thirteen in my notebook." The notebook seemed yellowed, with many creases, and the text in many places had become unclear over time. The young man took out the yellowed journal, made of sheepskin, and the original name on the cover was worn away. The giant tree extended its branches, touching the pages and producing a rustling sound, as if contemplating or whispering something. The giant tree uttered a whisper, "This sounds like a very unique and creative experience. Personal experiences, literary works—your story seems to emerge from your past but transcends reality, creating a unique and meaningful memory palace. It's a way of self-protection. It seems that your parents and friends might not understand your feelings, and those who truly care about you can't reach the depths of your thoughts. Indeed, it's a lonely soul with distinctive and unnoticed reflections." "I think it's my own sanctuary, Shelter, pronounced similarly to Theodol." The young man's eyes dimmed for a moment but quickly dissipated the melancholy gaze, turning serious as he looked at the vast tree crown. "Theodol is indeed a unique name, a unique interpretation of dreams and spiritual refuge. Some wise individuals construct their own memory temples to unleash their potential. From what you've described, you want to establish your own sanctuary from within, a place where you feel protected." "You seek stability and peace." The young man remained silent, acknowledging it all. Looking at the sky, watching the smoke drift into the distance, he continued, "I initially named it 'Theodol, a Sanctuary.' It's about the bullying I endured in school, stories hidden in the dark corners of society that often go unnoticed because most people are accustomed to pursuing their own lives, making their own money, and ignoring the disasters and troubles they bring to others." "Experiences of being bullied and marginalized in a high-pressure society, I believe, for me at least, Shelter is a place to heal myself, isn't it?" The Crowned Acacia Tree spoke and swayed its branches with the wind. "The name 'Theodol' gives profound meaning to your memory palace. It seems to be not just a collection of memories but a sanctuary for the soul, a place where you can seek comfort and strength. By creating such a space through your own creativity, perhaps you can find solace and self-reconciliation, like a utopian place far from the mundane, a land that carries your dreams, your true soul." The young man continued in silence, acknowledging it all. Facing the young man, the God Tree once again emitted a faint light. "Facing school bullying and societal rejection is an extremely challenging experience. Throughout human history, the interpretation of others as hell is one of the best explanations. People hate and fear what they don't know or understand. Instinctively, people dislike things they are unwilling to accept. Most people choose to believe in things they are willing to believe in. In simpler terms, people believe in things they want to believe in. Because of ideas not understood or things not accepted, human nature tends to fear what they don't understand." The young man's gaze started to evade, lips tightly pressed, seemingly recalling unpleasant memories but also appearing thoughtful. The mimosa tree gently swayed its branches, as if warm hands poured out from the void, caressing the young boy's face. But the faint light illuminated him, like a slender and graceful warm current, flowing through his heart. "Through such self-reflection and self-healing, you have created a powerful emotional support system for yourself." A source of strength that exists only in your own world, unnamed and formidable. "Share it with those at the ends of the world, friends from the depths of your heart." "You don't need to please those who are indifferent to you because blindly giving in will only make things worse. Things won't change just because you bow and kneel. On this path now, perhaps you will find the answers and your true self." The young man began to reminisce, looking towards the gradually disappearing strands of sunlight. "I've always had a habit of jotting down fragmented thoughts from certain moments, and from the initial few years of fragmented and unconnected memories, gradually turning into a string of interconnected experiences. I've read a lot of world history and many medieval stories, as if I were traveling through different times - towering skyscrapers, Baroque church cityscapes, sunless underground palaces, magical territories of Gothic religion." Landscapes that don't exist in my world but constantly attract the young man to those places. "My world is like a huge ivory tower, without windows and without exits. The rumors of my youth once knocked me down." The giant tree slowly turned, emitting the unique aura of an ancient tree. Blue light began to shine, followed by a continuous radiance of golden light. "But I hope they are like brilliant flowers of different colors - the blue of the starry sky, the green like the aurora, the deep red like the fire of the earth, and the dazzling yellow like the sun. In my own garden, these different colors bloom independently and isolated, only for the loneliness within myself. But if similar souls come together, they can burst out infinite colors and power." "Fragmented memories will constantly guide you to the worlds you want to explore, where you might find the answers you seek. When you gaze at the stars, what you see is just fragments, shattered dreams. But once you reach out to grasp one, you will remember that the elements within you come from the nebula itself. The Creator pursues his own dreams. At that moment of birth, your world is reborn. In the new world, you have a place you never had before. The memories of the multi-dimensional world will reshape your world. Reshape your understanding. All of this is unknown to others and doesn't need to be known. You already knew it long before all of this was born. It's amazing. I never thought you would use this way to alleviate pain." The mimosa tree started to make a loud sound, emitting a golden light, and said in a low voice: "Very interesting, the newly born Creator, seven days of creation can give birth to sin and punishment." The young man responded: "Perhaps I need seven years of creation instead of seven days. I don't have the patience and calmness of talent strong enough to swing the hammer of creation to construct everything I want." The cigarette butt fell, the smoke dissipated, and the young man shook off the dust on his body, starting to narrate. "So, I looked into the void, and the new world rushed towards me. The day I sought them out, they also found me." And the golden light of the mimosa tree gradually covered everything. The young man was calmly surrounded by the light, and the branches of the tree extended to the sky, as if the ancient tree wanted to bear the weight of the sky. "Let's embark on a journey and witness all of this with our own eyes, shall we?" Opening my eyes again, a purple sky and clusters of stars appeared under the dome. The earth beneath the vast sky was calm, and white clouds billowed in the lonely sky ocean. Steam and mist momentarily made it difficult for the young man to open his eyes, but the soft grass lightly pressed against his body. Golden leaves and flowers filled the entire wilderness, and the white robe pressed down on many flowers. "I deeply know that I am in a dream, but I am reluctant to wake up." My consciousness came to the world I deserved. Welcome to Theodell, the sanctuary born for lonely souls. "God left behind only one towering tower, and fortunately, I believe in the gods." On that day, the calm days continued, but the young man's heart finally echoed. In the void, everything began to respond, and a seed of hope began to take root and sprout, taking root in the young man's heart.