In this world, there are people called the Timeless.
These people are born from the world itself, they are strong and intelligent. Possessing greater extraordinary abilities in one manner or the other.
But the reason they are called the Timeless is not because of their power but because from the moment they are born they do not age.
They retain the youthful appearance they are born with.
They are immortal.
The only person who can kill a Timeless is another Timeless. It is impossible for the common man.
So to every other person living in this world, the Timeless are not humans.
To some, they are objects of envy.
To some, they are objects of worship.
And to some, they are objects of fear.
There is one thing that everyone living in the world agrees on.
The Timeless are absolute.
•••
One day, a young boy saw a man swing a sword and he thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
The young boy had nothing so he begged the man to teach him how to swing the sword.
The man refused.
But that didn't stop the young boy. He kept chasing after that man, calling him teacher.
Wherever the man went, the young boy would follow, a wooden sword he had carved out from a tree branch, on his hand.
When the man would go from place to place, the young boy would follow eagerly.
When the man would sleep in the wild, the young boy would swing that wooden sword in front of him. He was determined to learn the sword from his teacher.
A teacher who never accepted him as his student until five years after they met, when the boy was now twenty.
So his teacher taught him.
Move your legs like this.
Control your breathing.
Watch your surroundings.
Don't take your eyes off your opponent.
Never let go off your blade.
What are you swinging your sword for?
His teacher taught him.
And so the young boy swung his blade each day, unaware of his surroundings, unaware of the passing seasons, unaware of the passing years, unaware of his teacher's absence.
He swung without respite.
And then he met his teacher again.
•••
The wind ruffles my hair as I walk behind the man who had once been my student.
After seventy years, he had reached this point, and when he asked me, who once taught him how to swing the sword to witness the culmination of his hardwork, I couldn't refuse.
How could I?
Sitting to the side, I watch him as he takes a stance before the cliff face, even though he is moments away from keeling over, his stance was perfect, the stance of a man who has known nothing but the sword all his life.
He swung his blade, a cheap one and the sky parted for miles, the glow of the sun rested on him as if the world was acknowledging his feat. I saw a field of flowers. It was beautiful, I saw myself standing beside him in the distant past as he swung his blade each time.
A lifetime in a single swing.
So you went that far huh?
As he starts to fall backwards, I appear behind him, holding him and resting his back on the ground.
He looks at me with wrinkled eyes full of pride. His elderly visage a contrast to my youthful one. "How was that, teacher? I call it [Resonance]" He says, voice gruff and weary.
Resonance. A perfect name.
"Beautiful. Your blade is the most beautiful." I say honestly to him.
A gentle smile spreads across his face. "Hehehe, is that so? I told you… I could do… it." He says as his hands drop beside him, unmoving.
Even till his final breath, he never let go of his sword.
Hey, was it worth it?
You became the greatest but you had to sacrifice everything for it. Your life, your freedom, your time.
So why?
How can you die with a smile on your face?
Why do you look so content?
Hey, tell me… why do you humans shine so bright?
…
Ahhh, how envious.