The young goddess walked aimlessly. Tonight she had no destination, no goal. She simply wished to walk in the shadows and stardust that littered the in-between world she’d stumbled into. Here, there was no one. Here, she could reveal her full form, feathered wings, crystaled eyes and markings. As she walked, she saw a dim, shattered light, faintly pulsing. Curious, she went to the light to see shattered and torn pieces of body parts. Mist dogs gnawed on the limbs. Without fear she shooed the dogs away who growled at the goddess in complaint but cowered at the width and light of her wings.
Kneeling, the goddess looked at the fragments of flesh and ash before her. A human soul. “Oh…” A deep pity sprang from the goddess’s heart. “You poor child.” Reaching into the air she made a needle from ice and pulled a strand of her long, long hair as thread. Sitting down by the array of pieces she carefully began to sew them. She hummed, a tune of soft moonlight that didn’t burn, of flowers that glowed and of the warmth after a meal is shared by loved ones.
Once the pieces were sewn back together, she breathed life back into the boy before her. The dim, flickering glow of the soul steadied and became stronger. He opened his eyes. “…am I dead?”
“Yes.”
The boy stared in confusion and wonder. The being was too bright, too feathered and crystalline and lovely to be something of hell and damnation. “Who are you?”
“No one special.” The woman stroked the boy’s cheek, his head now in her lap. Warm brown eyes tried to understand how he existed. The summoning spell had been very specific; once done the soul of the caster did not exist. Yet here he was, looking at this strange being. “What is your name? Do you remember?”
The boy thought, the goddess now playing with his silky black hair, admiring his delicate features. “I think… I had a name…” Patiently, the goddess waiting. “I was… summoning Wei... Wuxian… did I fail?”
For a moment the goddess stared into space, seeming to see something he couldn’t. “…no. He resides in your body. Would you like to see?”
“Can I?” The goddess nodded and the boy sat up slowly, feeling heavy and stiff. How long had he been in pieces? What kind of holy being would even glace his way, a nothing like himself? The goddess swirled the mist and stardust, forming it into a ball which then shone bright and reflected what was occurring down below. The boy saw his body, older, fully grown now. The inhabitant, Wei Wuxian, smiled lovingly as Lan Wanji, the second brother of the Lan cultivator sect. Lan Wanji looked up from his calligraphy. He beckoned the other man who came happily before stealing a kiss. The young boy flushed and the goddess wiped the image. “He looks happy.”
“Thanks to you.”
The shock of seeing himself, though, had brought back the memories. The pain of being beaten, humiliated, ridiculed, touched in places he should not be touched by strangers. Tears began to run down his face as he shuddered, clutching himself. “No…”
The goddess wrapped the boy in a protective embrace and he couldn’t help but think of his mother. “You are safe, little one. Those who hurt you are dead now. Just as you wished. They can never touch you again.”
“I want my mother.” He choked out. “Please. Please let me see my mother.”
“I can bring you to the one who will guide you to your mother. Don’t worry. Just cry now. Let the pain wash out of you. You never need to experience it again.” The boy did, clutching the stranger. All the pain, the agony, the fear. It had hurt but he had endured it for his mother. Then she had passed, ashamed of him. A cut-sleeve. A freak. He had never touched anyone; he had been the one touched. All he had done is try to be close to the one he cherished most. Was that truly a sin? This divine being didn’t seem to think so and he took a shard of comfort in it. When the tears finally subsided, he felt lighter. He wasn’t sure how long he cried but when he pulled away, he realized he’d made a river with his tears in the stars.
“Oh…” He stared in surprise. He turned back to the strange goddess. “Mo… Xuan Yu. That… was my name.”
She stroked his cheek as a mother would. “You have a lovely name.” She smiled, melancholy tinging her mouth’s curve. “I’m sure this time, your life will be joyful.” She glanced at the river by them and pointed. “Look.” Xuan Yu followed the hand and saw his mother on the other side of the river.
Letting out a sob of relief, he scrambled up. “Mother!” The woman finally saw the boy and smiled, waving to him. A boat appeared, ferried and ready to take the now whole soul to the afterlife. The goddess stood and as Mo Xuan Yu boarded the boat he turned. “Thank you.”
“Find peace in your next life.” She waved goodbye. “And next time… find love as you should have.” The boat traveled to the other bank and with a leap the broken boy was finally given wings again to fly towards happiness.