Countless years passed in the realm above. Time flowed like a silent river, yet for Wis it felt only like a moment. He had long mastered his Father's teachings and carried the same calmness and wisdom. Though ages passed, his face remained unchanged, blessed with eternal youth and divine grace.
One day, as he gazed at the sacred pond, a thought entered his heart. For the first time, he felt ready. He wished to descend into the mortal realm.
The Father, seated in the radiance of His chamber, looked upon him. His eyes held both love and pride.
"My child," the Father said, "you wish to go to the mortal world."
Wis bowed. "Yes, Father, but I also wish to remain here with you. This sacred place is my home."
The Father smiled. "My child, even the sun leaves the sky to rise again. It is time for you to see the world below and learn from its imperfection. It is good for you to experience what lies beyond purity, to understand what the divine heart cannot see from above."
Wis hesitated. "Father, I do not know if I am ready. The mortal world is filled with pain, and I fear losing myself."
The Father placed His hand upon Wis's head. "Even the strongest heart must walk through sorrow to understand compassion. You will not lose yourself, for your soul carries the light of eternity. But before you go, sit with me a while. Let us talk, as we always have."
They sat together beside the shining pond. The surface reflected not the world, but their memories.
"Do you remember the day you first came here?" the Father asked.
"Yes," Wis replied softly. "I remember I was afraid. I felt so small standing before you."
The Father smiled. "And yet now, you stand before me as my equal in wisdom. You have walked the path of silence and learned the patience of the stars. But my child, do not forget what lies in the hearts of mortals. They are fragile. To live among them, you must walk as one of them. Speak their language, share their struggles, and feel their pain."
Wis lowered his head. "I will try, Father. But I fear that they may not understand me."
The Father's voice became gentle. "Then do not seek to be understood. Seek only to understand. The heart that listens will find truth, even in the smallest of voices."
Wis looked into his Father's eyes. "I will always miss you, Father."
The Father smiled, though His gaze was heavy with unspoken sorrow. "And I will always watch over you, my child. You are my disciple, my light, and my hope. Wherever you walk, my presence will follow."
Then the Father rose from His seat and lifted His hand. A soft radiance surrounded Wis.
"I have prepared something for you," the Father said. "When you descend, you will be born into a mortal family. Do not fear. Your memories, your consciousness, and your power shall remain. I will grant you a body that can contain your divinity. You shall possess a sacred soul and eternal youth. And one more gift, from me to you."
Wis looked up. "A gift, Father?"
"Yes," the Father said. "A divine talent and a divine physique. They will awaken when your heart calls for them. Carry them with wisdom, not pride."
Light flowed from the Father's hands, entering Wis's soul. It was as if the heavens themselves were being reborn within him. He felt warmth, power, and peace unlike any before.
When the light faded, the Father spoke softly. "It is time."
Wis bowed deeply. "Thank you, Father."
The Father watched as Wis began to descend through the endless sky. His figure faded into light until he vanished beyond the horizon of eternity. The Father stood alone, yet there was pride in His eyes.
---
Months passed in the mortal realm.
In a small and quiet village far from the cities, a child was born. The land was peaceful, surrounded by forests and clear rivers. The father was named Michael, a former knight of a fallen kingdom. The mother was Anna, a kind woman who once lived as a simple villager. They were content with their humble life.
Their child shone with a strange calmness even as a newborn. His eyes held a depth that no infant should possess, yet his parents only saw it as a sign of blessing.
They named him Wis.
At three months, he learned to crawl. At seven months, he walked on his own. At twelve months, he spoke fluently. Yet he chose to hide his brilliance, knowing that the mortal world was not ready for such things.
Years passed quietly.
One morning, an eight-year-old boy sat beside a clear river, fishing with a simple bamboo rod. The gentle wind brushed his hair as the water rippled under the sunlight. It was Wis.
He looked at his reflection and smiled faintly. "So this is where my journey begins."
For years he had lived peacefully, yet he could feel the pull of fate deep within him. The divine blood in his veins stirred softly, whispering of things yet to come.
He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the river.
"This world," he thought, "is fragile, but it is beautiful."
And with that thought, the immortal child continued to fish beneath the quiet sky, unaware that destiny had already begun to move around him.