The night was cold and silent, save for the rhythmic ticking of the antique clock in the corner of the room. Owen stood in the dimly lit study, his gaze lingering on the gold-framed photograph of him and Yvette from their wedding day.
He smirked bitterly, running a thumb over the edge of the frame. "A facade. That's all this ever was."
Sliding the photo face-down onto the desk, he grabbed the leather duffle bag he had packed earlier. He had no intention of leaving a note. She didn't deserve an explanation. She'd get what she wanted soon enough, once Randall returned.
Owen took a deep breath, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag as he glanced around the room one last time.
"No more lies. No more games. I need answers."
As he quietly walked through the villa's grand hall, his footsteps echoed faintly against the marble floors. The silence was oppressive, but it carried a sense of finality.
He paused by the front door, glancing back over his shoulder. "Goodbye, Yvette," he murmured, the words soft but resolute.
With that, he stepped out into the night.
---
**Several Weeks Later, the Himalayas**
The biting cold wind cut through Owen's thick jacket as he trudged through the snow-covered terrain. His breaths came in short puffs, visible in the frigid air.
"You're insane, Owen," he muttered to himself, glancing at the crude map in his hand. "Hiking through the Himalayas alone, chasing some mystical cure. Great plan."
But he couldn't stop. Ever since he was given a second chance at life, the ache in his chest—a remnant of his mysterious illness—hadn't gone away. It was a constant reminder that his time might be limited.
"Excuse me, sir!" a voice called out, startling him.
Owen turned to see a weathered monk standing by a rocky outcrop, his orange robes fluttering in the wind.
"You are far from the usual trails," the monk continued, his voice calm but filled with curiosity.
Owen hesitated before approaching. "I'm looking for something," he admitted, pulling down his scarf. "I heard... there's a monastery around here. One that might have answers."
The monk studied him with piercing eyes, his expression unreadable. "What answers do you seek?"
Owen's voice faltered, but he steadied himself. "I'm dying. Or at least, I was in my past life. Something brought me back, but it's like my body's fighting against itself now. I need to know if there's a way to fix it. To survive."
The monk nodded slowly, gesturing for Owen to follow. "Come. You seek the Path of Eternity."
Owen blinked, his heart racing. "You know what I'm talking about?"
The monk's lips curved into a faint smile. "You are not the first to seek such answers. But the journey ahead is not one of the body. It is of the soul."
"Whatever it takes," Owen replied firmly.
As they walked through the rugged terrain, Owen couldn't help but ask, "Have you helped others before? Did they survive?"
The monk glanced at him, his expression serene. "Survival is not the same as living. Those who seek the Path of Eternity must confront their deepest truths. Are you prepared to face yourself, Owen?"
Owen hesitated but then nodded. "I didn't come all this way to run from the truth."
---
**At the Monastery**
The monastery was carved into the mountainside, its golden spires gleaming faintly under the pale sunlight. Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of incense and the murmured prayers of monks.
The head monk, an elder with a long white beard, approached Owen. "You carry a burden," the elder said, his voice gentle but firm.
Owen nodded. "I need to heal, or at least understand what's happening to me."
The elder gestured toward a glowing pool of water at the center of the room. "This is the Mirror of the Soul. It will show you what you must confront. But beware—what you see may not be what you expect."
Owen hesitated, staring at the shimmering surface. "What happens if I fail?"
The elder's gaze was steady. "Then your soul will remain fractured, and your body will follow."
Taking a deep breath, Owen stepped forward. "Let's get this over with."
As he knelt by the pool and touched the water, a wave of warmth enveloped him, pulling him into a vivid vision of his past life, his regrets, and the choices he had made.