You either control the mind or it controls you.

-Napoleon Hill.

As Seph closed his eyes while falling to his death, his entire life started rolling in his mind, but he saw things he shouldn’t have a recollection of. Was that what death was like?

First, he saw the day he was born, and the midwife giving his young frail body carefully to his mother. His mother looked at him with tired eyes, but she was delighted to have brought this life to the world.

Next, he saw the midwife informing his father of his birth. His father’s face was obscured, which was very weird, considering the midwife’s face wasn’t and he never saw her before.

“A very healthy son of an able body, master… What will you name him?”

The memory felt like it intentionally obscured his father’s name that the midwife mentioned.

“His name is Seph. I hope his fate is better than that of his father.”

The man spoke, not really showing happiness at having offspring. He gave the midwife a few coins, and she thanked him profusely and went back to take care of the mother.

Next scene was Seph. He appeared to be a one-year-old, taking his first steps. His mother was so happy encouraging him.

“Yes Seph, you did it! I am so proud of you, my adorable walking baby son.”

A smile appeared on the face of the falling cultivator. He would have never thought of himself as adorable. It must be her maternal instinct or something, he thought.

His father was sitting in a corner, clearly watching the scene, but no sound came out of him, his face was still obscured.

Next scene was Seph at two years old, his mother carrying him, hugging him to her chest, while walking around the village and asking about her husband who had left and never returned.

Those who saw him on the fateful day said he took the road outside of the village, but nobody knew anything further.

Villagers rarely left this village, same as most villages, and his mother never saw the outside of this village before.

Next he saw himself at three years old, his mother washing the clothes of the families that owned the big farming lands in the village, and little Seph helped her happily instead of playing outside.

After that he saw himself at four years old, outside, after he helped his mother, trying to get the kids to include him in their games and instead they ridiculed him.

“Don’t you have some loincloths to wash? Get away from us. You must stink.”

All the kids laughed. He was furious, but he didn’t fight them and instead left to go back home and sit with his mother while she sewed clothes as usual.

Seph was wondering how all of this was happening, and he still didn’t hit the ground, but he didn’t open his eyes.

In the next scene, he was five years old, asking around the village for work. He had thought if he couldn’t play, maybe he should find work. He asked many people.

“Oh, you are too young, Seph. Come back when you are seven.” Said the elder when he asked if he could carry water to their house.

“Sorry Seph, we are running into a poor season of fishing these days. I can’t take another worker,” said the fish seller at the daily market.

He heard similar excuses from the sellers in the market.

In the end, he found work at a farm, only when they were picking the new vegetables. His work was much less than what the grownups could do, but they still paid him some vegetables to take home daily.

“I told you over and over, you don’t have to work, Seph… but if this makes you happy then so be it. I am glad my little man brings me food stuff daily. You are a good boy, Seph I am proud of you.”

That was what his mother said after the first day he worked.

At six years, he saw the first ever fight he had gotten into, but something weird happened.

He remembered coming back from the field that day, and one kid was calling him a bastard. That was the first time they ever used that insult against him.

While the older people in the village knew his father and knew that he wasn’t a bastard, the kids didn’t know, and the word pissed him off.

The weird thing was... that day, he snapped and beat up the kid immediately. This time, though, he didn’t. He could see his body as if it was waiting for his command to fight. He thought beating that kid up as a child was okay, but he didn’t think now with what he knew, and what he learned in life he would beat him up again.

Young Seph, from memory, just looked at the kids, and left them cackling and jeering, and went home.

Seph was very confused at the weird change that happened in the memory, he thought, We can’t change the past! Or can we?

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Regardless, the memories fast forwarded to seven years old. Seph was returning from the field, and he saw the elder walking towards him.

The falling cultivator thought, That’s the day I asked the elder again if I could be the water carrier of the village.

The elder smiled his grandfatherly smile towards Seph. The man sure knew how to be popular, and how to affect people of all ages, how to talk to every man, woman or child.

When they came close, the elder greeted Seph, and Seph did the same, and then they were both heading their way.

The falling cultivator thought, No, this is wrong, this is not how this event was like. I need to ask him to become a water carrier; the money I brought home was a big help to my mother.

Seph again willed his young self to do the right thing. He called the elder after he had passed him by.

“Sir! Remember your promise to me?” Seph called after him.

“Oh, what promise would that be young’un?” The elder replied with a puzzled look on his face.

“You said you would allow me to be a water carrier when I became seven years old. Well, I am.”

“Haha.” The elder laughed heartily, before saying, “Yes, I remember, you have my blessing Seph, and my household will be your first customer, pass by our house tomorrow to take the water buckets, and when people see you doing the job, they might ask you to deliver to them as well.”

Seph remembered being elated that day that he got the job.

The memories fast forwarded again to eight years old Seph. He had been working for a year at this point. He had gotten used to the routine. His body had gotten used to the rigorous work, even if it still hurt every day.

He could see his young self heading towards a house.

Oh, hell no. Seph thought he remembered that day clearly. It was the time he accidentally saw the woman dressed in light clothing and her husband beat him.

Seph willed his body to go finish another task before delivering water to this house.

Next scene, Seph was nine years old. His mother told him they’d saved money this month, and he could use it for anything he wants.

He asked her to make sure they really didn’t need this money, and she assured him.

She gave him the money, and Seph started thinking about what to do with it.

He kept thinking for days. He never thought he would have coins to spend, however he wished and had absolutely no plans for them.

More days passed as Seph hadn’t reached a decision, which felt weird for the falling cultivator. He knew he didn’t take that long.

He thought again to will his young self into deciding, and sure enough, it worked.

Next, he saw himself on the steps of the closest monastery to their village. He started climbing towards the top, and once he reached the doors, he saw a man standing at the door to greet the visitors and learn their purpose.

“Shifu.” Seph said and bowed down deeply. The man smiled and put his palm on Seph’s shoulder.

“Rise, son. What is it you want from us?”

“I would like to be a scholar, but I come from poverty. I brought coins with me, though! I can probably bring more in the future,” Seph said, taking out the coins from his pocket, and presenting them as if they were an offering to the goddess.

“Come with me child, I’ll set you on the path to become a scholar and have a bright future.”

They headed inside the monastery, and the memory faded, making way to another memory.

In this memory, Seph was ten years old. He was studying during the night, next to a lit candle. He had been having trouble in his studies, and was thinking of giving it all up.

He put the manuscript next to him, and laid down, looking at the ceiling, thinking if he should pursue this any further, or if he was just not built up for it.

An hour passed with Young Seph looking at the ceiling, but adult Seph remembered he didn’t spend that long reaching a decision again.

He thought of how his life turned out to be, and how he became a yin cultivator. This was the first time he remembered this little detail since he found himself at the peak of that mountain he was now falling to his death from.

Do I really want to waste time studying to be a scholar, when I’ll end up dead anyway and never reach my goal?

He thought deeply about that. I think I should continue studying, even if I’ll end up as some abomination cultivator, knowing the things I know from these studies gave me knowledge, and experience, and helped build my character.

He willed his young self again to pick up the book, and Young Seph continued studying. The memory faded again, making way to another.

This time, though, the memory fast-forwarded eight full years. He was now 18 years old, on the day his mother fell ill.

“Her condition worsened. She needs Vitality Grass, which grows halfway up the mountain. I ran out, but it’s the only way to save her. I am not sure if we can wait until the morning, and even then, I am not sure if a peddler or a merchant’s caravan would pass by the village.” The doctor told Seph.

Seph remembered replying immediately to the doctor that he will go up the mountain himself to search for the grass, but in the memory he didn’t, so he willed himself immediately to speak out.

“I’ll go up the mountain and bring you the grass.” Seph said resolutely.

“Come on Seph, you will risk your life. Excuse me, but you are a young man. We can’t risk losing both of you on the same day.”

Seph glared at him. “I won’t let my mother die if I can do something about it.”

The falling cultivator felt a tear fall from his eye at the realization that he won’t be able to save her after all.

“Seph, she lived a long fruitful life. She brought you to this world, raised you into a fine young man. I don’t think she would like the idea of you dying for her. Maybe she can survive until the morning, but if she can’t, at least you will live on and remember her.”

“I am not having any part in this discussion. She will live, and that’s final.”

He walked to his room, got dressed quickly, and got out of the door, into the chilly night.

The memory fast forwarded half an hour more, to when Seph was standing in front of the black glowing tree. He took cover in the cavity, and then plucked the fruit. He then stopped, looking alarmed at the place where the stone that had killed him, would shoot from.

Seph thought, I can will myself to avoid death, but is that the right thing to do? Is there a chance to save my mother that way? Or was the best chance to always enter the legacy trials?

The Seph in the memory was about to run away from the scene to avoid the death, but the falling cultivator willed him to stop.

He again heard a shouting voice he remembered very well, “It’s one of them,” and another followed, “Get him fast.” At that moment, a stone the size of a watermelon shot towards him, but this time Seph jumped to intercept it.

The shock from the stone seemed to have done something to his falling body, and he felt he was descending much faster into the abyss under him.