The Cycle of Life and Death

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What exactly is life?

Beings exist, gaze, and ponder; from birds and beasts to mountains and flora, what truly constitutes a living entity? No one has ever provided an answer. The reach of thought in this boundless world is remarkably limited.

The Hero of Dawn approached the withering great tree, her steps deliberate. She gently caressed its bark, her fingers brushing against its parched, yellowed leaves, then pressed an ear close to its roots, hoping to discern the tree’s faint whispers.

The great tree rustled softly, offering a subtle response. It knew its journey was nearing its end, yet like a benevolent old mother, it tenderly brushed its branches against the Hero’s head, attempting to offer a small measure of comfort.

The Hero of Dawn retrieved a bottle of pristine spring water, drawn from the Spring of Life nestled at the heart of the forest—the very fount from which the Akara Tree had drawn its sustenance. A single drop of this water was reputed to restore even the most gravely ill patient to robust health.

The Hero carefully trickled the water onto the tree’s roots, waiting in silent hope. Alas, even the Spring of Life’s potent waters proved powerless against a divine curse; in mere moments, the vitality it contained completely dissipated.

Next, the Hero of Dawn procured a seed from a plant known as Sui. These seeds, even after enduring long winters buried deep within solid ice, were guaranteed to be among the first to unfurl their leaves to the sky when spring arrived.

The Hero carefully buried the seed in the soil at the great tree’s base, personally tending to it and watering it diligently day and night. Yet, even the most resilient seed could not withstand the power of death; ultimately, it failed to sprout, decaying instead within the forest soil.

Many more days passed, but the Hero of Dawn still had not discovered the truest representation of life. Day by day, the great tree weakened, and the elves could only watch in helpless anxiety. They could only pray for a miracle, but all stories must eventually reach their conclusion.

Finally, on a spring morning, the Akara Tree sensed its imminent return to the embrace of the earth. It gently swayed its branches, calling out to every elf in the forest.

The elves gathered before the Akara Tree, their faces streaked with tears. Some, overwhelmed by grief, even fainted. The Hero of Dawn stood silently to the side, deeply remorseful that she had failed to fulfill her promise.

The Priestess patted her shoulder, assuring her there was no need for self-reproach. Since she had already done her utmost, further remorse would serve no purpose.

In the silence, the Hero of Dawn suddenly lifted her head. A pensive sadness graced her features, yet she calmly proposed, “Might the elves sing a song together for the tree’s departure?”

The elves were utterly astonished. They had always sung only for things of beauty and vibrant life; death and decay were subjects they meticulously avoided, let alone sang for.

The Hero of Dawn explained that in her distant homeland, people sang for the departed. In the hearts of her people, death was simply another beginning, and singing for the deceased demonstrated respect and mourning for those who had passed.

Speechless, none of the elves opposed the Hero’s suggestion. They, too, wished to sing one last song for the great tree.

And so, as the Hero of Dawn’s sorrowful yet elegant voice began to rise, the elves joined her in song. Though some voices were choked with sobs, some faltered, and others sang off-key due to overwhelming grief, no elf cared. They simply sang with abandon, until the Akara Tree lost all its vitality.

When the song ended, everyone gazed at the withered tree, silent and tearful.

Suddenly, from the very core of the decaying tree, a rich surge of life emanated. The elves’ eyes widened in astonishment.

The once-colossal tree gradually transformed into specks of light and vanished. The ground beneath collapsed, drawing in the waters from the nearby Spring of Life. The spring water moistened every inch of land it traversed until it gently pooled where the Akara Tree had once stood, forming a small pool.

Beneath the ground where this pool lay, an unusual stirring began. Something was rapidly absorbing the spring water.

Perhaps a long time passed, or perhaps it was merely an instant, but then a tiny sapling burst forth from the earth. It radiated a potent aura of life, arriving in this world with curiosity and vigor.

Everyone stood stunned. They looked at the delicate sapling, then at each other, no one knowing what had truly transpired. Only the Forest Priestess, standing beside the Hero of Dawn, was overcome with emotion. She distinctly felt it: this was the unique essence of the Akara Tree.

A miracle had occurred.

Before anyone could fully react, a spring breeze swept through, and the Forest God, smiling serenely, approached the elves. It gazed tenderly at the newborn Akara Tree, then at the still-shocked elves, and spoke, answering everyone’s bewilderment.

It turned out that the most profound representation of life in this world was death itself. Life and death were interdependent, coexisting. All life cycled endlessly within the great circle of birth and death, continuously perpetuating itself. The final elegy sung by the Hero and the elves, combined with the Akara Tree’s serene acceptance of its end, perfectly embodied this profound concept.

Thus, reborn through death, the Akara Tree reappeared. It was neither the original Akara Tree, nor an entirely unrelated new entity. The cycle of life and death also symbolized the continuation of its spirit.

Upon hearing the Forest God’s explanation, the elves burst into joyous laughter, celebrating the birth of the new Akara Tree.

The Hero of Dawn offered a shy smile. Her casual suggestion had unexpectedly become the key to saving the tree. However, the Hero did not take credit for it. After celebrating with the elves, she prepared to depart.

The elves wished for her to stay, but they knew that the Hero of Dawn ultimately did not belong there.

At that moment, the Priestess stepped forward and said, “Please wait a moment, esteemed Hero of Dawn. To express our gratitude for your selfless aid, the Forest God has decided to bestow a reward upon you.”

With a wave of her hand, the Hero initially intended to refuse, but she could not resist the elves’ fervent insistence, so she reluctantly accompanied them to the Spring of Life.

Standing before the spring, the Forest Priestess whispered a prayer, then turned to the Hero.

“Please stand before the water and make a wish. The divine will grant you the most precious treasure.”

“The most precious treasure? I do not covet wealth.”

“Not so. In the language of our elves, ‘precious’ does not symbolize riches, but rather the deepest desire of one’s heart.”

“My deepest desire? Perhaps even I am unsure…”

And so, standing before the Spring of Life, the Hero of Dawn made her wish.

What she witnessed next truly surpassed her wildest imagination: the most precious treasure imaginable—