The Scroll of Forgetting

Preparation for the ascension took weeks. They fell into a rhythm. Chloe mediated with him, cooked for him (he started eating, claiming it was "to conserve her feelings"), and debated philosophy.

She taught him about nursing—about healing not with magic, but with care. He taught her about the sword—about cutting through illusions.

She was falling in love with him. She knew it was stupid. He was a 500-year-old virgin obsessed with becoming a cloud. But when he laughed—a rare, rusty sound—she felt like she had won a prize.

Two days before the Ascension, Chloe was cleaning the restricted section of the library. She knocked over a stack of jade slips. One rolled open.

* The Vow of Severed Dust: A Chronicle.*

Curious, she picked it up. She scanned the glowing text.

* To achieve the Divine State, the cultivator must sever all mortal tethers. The Vow requires absolute emotional neutrality. Upon the moment of Ascension, the cultivator shall undergo the Rite of Oblivion.*

* All memories of mortal connections will be erased. The heart must be empty to hold the Heavens.*

Chloe froze.

* All memories erased.*

She read it again.

If Han ascended, he wouldn't remember the deal. He wouldn't remember her. He wouldn't remember the kitchen, or the hot spring, or her name.

He had promised to send her home *after* he ascended. But if he ascended, he would forget she existed. He would leave her stranded in this palace forever, a forgotten tool.

He knew. He had to know.

"Liar," she whispered. Tears pricked her eyes.

"Chloe?"

Han stood in the doorway. He held a basket of fire-peppers he had picked for her.

Chloe threw the scroll at him. It bounced off his chest.

"You knew," she accused, her voice shaking. "The Rite of Oblivion. You're going to lobotomize yourself."

Han looked at the scroll. He didn't deny it. "It is the price of godhood."

"And what about our deal?" Chloe stepped forward, poking him in the chest. "How are you going to send me home if you don't remember who I am?"

"I... I would have left instructions," Han stammered. "I would have written it down."

"Would you?" Chloe demanded. "Or would the God-Han look at the note and burn it because he doesn't care about mortals?"

Han went silent. He looked down. "I must ascend. It is my purpose. I have sacrificed everything for this."

"You're sacrificing *me*!" Chloe shouted. "I trusted you. I actually thought... I thought we were friends. I thought maybe..."

She stopped. She wiped her eyes furiously.

"You're just a machine, Han. I was right the first time."

She stormed past him. Han reached out to grab her arm, but stopped himself. The Vow hummed in the air, a warning siren.

He let her go.