After living so many years being incapable of feeling anything; Barrow could never relate to his subordinates who were always complaining about their love life.
Hah,
Who would have thought a single flower petal would change everything?
. . .
In the peaceful space of the office, There was only the sound of the pen scratching the paper accompanied by the voice of someone talking. Well, was;
Barrow cleared his throat,
For the past several days, he can always feel something stuck in his throat. But no matter how much he tried to cough it out, nothing came out.
"My Liege?" Bernard, who came to report his progression in the empire, stopped, "Is there something wrong?"
"No," Barrow continued writing his paper, "resume the report"
"...Alright,"
Barrow tried to focus on his tasked, but no matter how hard he tries-- the itch inside his throat kept on bothering him.
And In the end of the day, barely any work was done.
.
.
.
It was not until three days later at the alchemist tower, when Barrow finally found the reason why his throat itches;
. . .
Barrow couldn't exactly remember why he wanted to become a God-- no, he did. But he chose not to.
But the sense of want and need to become one had never declined even after all this years. And after countless reincarnations, all of his efforts were slowly starting to bare it's fruits;
.
Then comes that variable that slowly ruined everything he did,
The hero of the Roan kingdom that slowly became known in the western continent. The person who became the link of so many race and individuals, that soon became the powerhouse many could only dreamt of achieving.
Perhaps it was that time?
Barrow started remembering a long forgotten tale after meeting the red haired Hero that was beloved by all.
Hasn't all of this happened before?
Hasn't he already experienced all of this once before?
Barrow might have simply remembered a forgotten tale he had loathed; A tale he had threw it to the back of his mind, hoping to bury it with the flow of time.
Hah...
Yes,
It all had happened under that sickeningly blue sky he had grown tired of seeing everyday;
He also had a red hair similar to a sunset, stoic face, and a crazy amount of charm that just pull anyone towards him like a magnet.
Barrow remembered how he always ran away from things he deemed to be troublesome yet always managing to bring more trouble with him every time he returned.
How every one had loved him like he was the sun;
Not that he could blame them;
He was like every one else too, once upon a time.
.
.
.
Barrow took off his white masks and put it onto the table and leaned back to the wall; The moonlight was shining through the office window, the only source of light in the dark room.
No one else was inside the office except him.
No one except him had saw the Red carnation that fell from his lips, some were pale, while others was deep red.
Barrow couldn't help but laughed at the flower petals that were on the palm of his hand,
He truly couldn't believe it,
Even when the evidence were in front of his very eyes.
That person had reincarnated,
Much worse, he reincarnated as his enemy
Truly,
Fate must have really hated him for the sin's he have committed.
. . .
The next time he saw the incarnation was at the castle of light;
Barrow almost wanted to laughed at how ironic their meeting happened. Was there a bastard out there that was trying to remind him the failure he had done nine hundred years ago?
Lord knows how his heart had leaped mountains and skies when he saw that red haired bastard cough up blood. For the first time, he was afraid of his curse might be affecting his enemy.
At least that bastard had some competent allies by his side, he should be fine.
"My liege!" A cat tribe supported him as they walked out of the teleportation circle,
Barrow-- no, The White Star hadn't stopped coughing even after several minutes, and that worried his retainers.
He doesn't know if it was even a good thing anymore that his plate was imbalance at the moment. No one would question why he was coughing up blood. At least, he can still hold the petals in his hand, making sure none of them will fall and catch his subordinates eyes.
"I'm fine, proceed to the next plan" White star wiped the blood that was at the corner of his mouth using his sleeve,
None of his followers questioned him,
That was something he had preferred.
.
.
.
Every time he saw the Red haired Hero; They had always facing each other on the battle field.
He had even asked if he wanted to become a Dragon slayer... but his response to it didn't surprised Barrow at all.
Even reincarnated, he still loved Dragons.
Of course there's no way someone who had loved those beings so much could bare to eat their heart.
.
And when the Hero was chosen to take a God trial...
The White star took a deep breath as his surroundings had turned red and murky, the red haired Hero was using his aura to the maximum. Trying to subdue him,
Ancient power after Ancient power, they were all thrown left and right;
The White star was slowly pushed back from the barrage of attacks he was subjected to.
And then,
A short dagger made out of wood had found it's way to his heart;
He knew he had lost to the same person once again,
The white star coughed out a chunk of blood, his body limp down towards the hero as he lost all strength.
He can't help but laugh at the irony;
"What are you laughing at?" The hero asked him coldly, yet the confusion was evident.
The White star, no--
Cale Barrow,
Finally remembered the reason why he had wanted to become a God, but he supposed he didn't have to anymore.
Another cough came out, but this time, it was accompanied with a fully bloomed carnation.
Barrow truly found it situation hilarious, especially with how the Heroes eyes were widened at the sight of the flower that slowly fell down towards the ground.
"You haven't changed one bit..." Barrow managed to mutter. Though his eyes were starting to blurred, he could see the other's face clearly;
"What nonsense are you--"
The hero, Cale Henituse, couldn't even asked what his enemy had meant. For he, White Star, had already turned to dust.
. . .
Cale Barrow supposed it was for the better,
He couldn't and wouldn't be capable to bare the guilt and the sense of lost if he were to kill someone he loved once more, even if he was just his incarnation.
Even the curse wasn't capable of suppressing his longing after all those years.
.
.
.
"Cale-nim!"
"Young master!"
Choi Han and Mary ran towards Cale worriedly, followed by Rosalyn behind them.
"Are you hurt, Cale-nim?"
Cale didn't stared at the place where the White star had died at for too long, "No," he hid the root dagger behind his back, "Let's go back, the White Star is dead--"
Cale let out a cough,
"Cale-nim?!?"
Cale waved his hand, "Don't worry, a petal just managed to enter my mouth when we fought"
"A petal?"
"Don't think too much about it, let's go, Choi han," Cale started to walk, "Everyone to, let's go home"
. . .
The Hero had won,
But why does it felt bitter?