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1.the Olden and his carriers

~in between lifetimes~

Wers kneeled on top of the mountain, he opened his mouth and his spirit Xancore came out of him,

"I've had enough, Xancore. I want to die.

-what about the rest, Wers? What about your friends, the other holders? What about the world? The world needs you. You bottle me inside of you, we have helped so many people, we saved countless lives, we mended souls and opened eyes, are you choosing to surrender? After all of the change you've made?

-I'm not making this a comparison, but trust me I am way more tired than any other spirit holders, I've known of you being inside of me since such a young age, at least the others got to have a childhood. I love you, but f**k, containing you is so exhausting, I don't just feel drained, I feel hollowed; my brain is rotting and my life grew mold around my heart, I'd rather just die. Please, Xancore, go to someone else, I've sacrificed my life for others while nobody has ever done anything for me, I've done enough. Spare me, show mercy on my soul, leave me to decay, merge with mother once again, I promise I'll be more resilient during my next life, but before I go, I want you to promise me two things: do not let me bear the weight of the team on my shoulders alone, and never allow me to make Ala's next life upset, whoever they are going to be, I want myself to treat them well, make them happy, and never let my morbidity bleed onto them, please alert me when I do so, because I know I will, being a Xancore holder is already a sign the person isn't going to have an easy life, but Ala's next life will make it more bearable, I hope.

-we have to decline requests of death, but lucky for you, your lifetime was actually going to expire soon anyway, and me and my companions have already selected the next people that we'll be reincarnated into. Your next life, Opal, is going to be born in three months, I am sorry but you're going to have to keep existing until one day before their birth, the world is too corrupt for us to leave for three whole months, anything could happen at anytime.

-fine, if all that's left is three months, I can handle it, but if it were a year or more I would've cried myself to death, to literal death.

-I am sorry, Wers, you were selected to be a beacon of change, you didn't get to live an average human life like everyone else did, yours was much shorter, packed with way more pain, and lots of gut wrenching stress, it isn't fair, but that's life. It has been an honor being your spirit, your heart and brain function just how I predicted they would, even better at times, and overall, you've been a good person, sensible, empathetic, and most of all you are able to think, and express your thoughts, with sharp teeth and heavy syllables. You have honored my name, as I am Xancore, the spirit of eloquence, and you, my friend, have been just that.

Part I: connections in the cosmos

The 9 year old boy's footsteps were so light they went unnoticed, he was able to once again escape from his house and go to the pond nearby with his doll igby, one he's had since his conception. Igby was the only person who never judged him, who never told him to stop crying, who never invalidated his emotional outbursts, who never hurt his fragile developing heart.

The boy's spirit kicked inside and he could feel it, he kept reminiscing about the ugly past, and in a moment of emotional overflow he started humming, and turned his pain into rhymes, sung them by the pond, to igby, and he called it,

Sculpted grin

"Kill me, f*****g kill me, please

Infect me with every disease

Throw me in ice until I freeze

Hammer down my knees

Sting me with a billion bees

Grab my throat until I die, squeeze

May a fire ignite in my park

May my back break and arc

May a monster kill me in the dark

May my head get cut open by a rock

May my feet get bitten off by a shark

May blades leave my skin with bruises and marks

I hope that my stomach will decay

And that my spirit will wither away

And that my soul will sway

And that I feel pain everyday

And that dead, tomorrow I'll lay

Oh yeah life's short but you can always shorten it more

Stab yourself to death, it works although a tad bit gore

Or burn yourself alive, original but hurts a little more

Or maybe beat your skin up until your muscles are sore

Or give up and surrender to your internalized war

Sometimes waiting for the right time, takes a lifetime.

Ohh, oh, oh, hmm, hm, hmm"

...

"So, what do you think?"

The doll gave no reply back, so the boy exerted a sigh of disappointment. Not only disappointment, he was sad, the only thing that he loved didn't even have the capacity to love him back

"I wish you were able to talk, I really do." He said while frowning

He got up and started playing with the water in the pond to distract himself, the water glowed a little, then started flying up making shapes in the sky, some even splashed onto him, it did lighten him up how the water was playing with him.

"Do you see this, igby? The water came to life when I touched it, I think I can make inanimate things temporarily alive if I touch them, but I want you to be alive forever. I think I have an idea"

In a moment of spirit-body harmony, an opening loomed in the middle of his chest, then the skin separated to reveal his ribcage, no blood gushed out, but he felt all of the pain of the operation, he was stoic enough not to manically scream, but the pain was so severe and he kept grunting and moaning barely bearing it, watching and feeling every single cell of his chest lacerate and tear, the water from the pond sprouted up and got inside the cut, it formed a paper thin sharp edge that cut a tiny piece of his heart off, and then transported it out and put it in his palm. As soon as that happened, the two cut halves welded back together, and the water got right on top of the scar, and melted into his skin, taking the scar away with it, as if nothing has even happened.

He went back home with the piece of his heart in his tiny fist, he was holding onto it tight not to lose it. He entered hiss room, cut the doll's chest, put the little piece inside and sewed it shut, then waited for some time.

Sadly, nothing happened, he waited for long to no luck, tears started flooding his eyes, as they rolled down, they fell right onto the doll's chest, and that, unknowingly, was what was needed to finish the spell, as a piece of a human heart wasn't enough, for it was nothing if not accompanied with a piece of that human's soul, and those tears bottled emotion, emotion that was directly generated from the soul itself.

Igby started profusely shaking, then it stopped. It got up and blinked for the very first time, and in a cute childish voice it muttered "h-hi. Why are you crying?"

The boy was in shock, his tears amplified quickly as he suffocated the doll with a hug, the tears this time were ones of joy not sorrow, and he kept hugging it for the rest of the night.

-7 years later-

"Welcome class to your second year of highschool, I'm miss.."