HOLY PARADISE

The space tore and wrapped around itself, causing space storms to appear every so often. Within a deep tunnel, coated in infinite walls, the youth of around twenty was traveling nonchalantly atop a flying boat. He was leisurely lying atop the bow, humming a cheerful melody in a low tone.

He was relatively muscular, hair disheveled, running down to his neck, adorned in strange, flamboyant robes, tied up with even stranger belt which seemed to be alive. Just as he was about to cross paths with the space storm, he tapped his fingers lightly, causing the flying boat to veer left, avoiding the storm completely. And so, he continued traveling for a week… then a month… then a year… then a couple more…

“Goddammit!!” he threw an empty gourd of wine into the infinite space, his face distorted due to the anger. “That old hag totally lied! She told me, clearly – wait, why am I talking to myself? Ah, who gives a crap – she told me – ever so clearly – that the journey would take no longer than half a year! I knew I shouldn’t have trusted her! She looked like a gnome, through and through! Wait, maybe she was a gnome? Ah, who gives a crap.”

The youth impatiently sat down, staring into the infinite space, pondering over the meaning of life. He hadn’t had a human contact ever since he embarked on the journey of his life; after all, he was Prince Parsia, heir to the grand throne of Lomaki, kings of Iorn Realm. This was his coming of age journey… turned into coming to nowhere…

“BECAUSE I’M SO FREAKING LOST!!!”

**

Meanwhile, Lynne had finally found himself on the other side of the teleportation array, where a relatively familiar sight welcomed him. They arrived just outside of Edgemaw – now Holy Paradise – and the first thing that caught Lynne’s sight was the city itself.

The cascading rows had been upturned, and the ringed city was no more; instead, it became a whole, with grand buildings built from marble stone rising to the sky like defiant heroes. The city was overrun with people, yet even that was still not enough to quench its majestic appearance.

Even from the leveled ground far beneath, Lynne was able to spot the apex of the city – grand, enormous Palace, seemingly towering over the rest of the mortal world all on its own. Even Lynne had to admit that the city actually looked like a capital more so than before… and this was all done in just a year’s worth of time.

Knowing that there’s probably no way he’d find a free bed in the city, Lynne didn’t even bother immediately going in, and instead scouted nearby villages for the stay. Eventually, he settled in a mountain village, a few hours of walk away from the capital. The village was relatively large, housing over two thousand people, and many-a-others alike Lynne had decided to stay here.

It appeared as if every soul worth a damn in the entire continent had converged into the Holy Paradise, but most appeared to have come to a wedding rather than the execution. They all merrily chatted about the upcoming events, holding nothing back.

Lynne quickly found his way to the only tavern in the entire village, and managed to squeeze in into a corner after ordering a keg of ale. Sitting, he lowered his shoulders and appeared inconspicuous as he began listening in on the conversations of others.

“Did you know?” he was listening to two old blokes talk, their cheeks reddened and their words nigh impossible to understand. “I heard-hic- that he bed love-hic-no, love bed-ah, no, anyway – bedded loved the -hic-queen -hic- and he’s even the-hic-father of ten eleven children!! … hic.” … yeah, I have such odd number of siblings…

Realizing that it was a waste of time, Lynne quickly moved away and looked towards more sober group to listen in on.

“I can’t believe just how many people came,” one elderly woman spoke. “Ah, it’s such a pity…”

“Master!!” a youth angrily exclaimed before lowering his voice. “Do you know that you could get executed for that?!”

“What?! Can’t a woman praise a fine man?”

“…”

“…”

“You have like twenty-eight wives,” the same youth said. “So, yes, a woman can praise a man. You? No, you can’t.”

“… bugger off thankless brat.” Aii, is anyone normal? Wait, what am I saying… it’s a middle of the day, and they’re in a tavern… drinking… ale… oh boy…

As he wasn’t getting anything good, Lynne paid the bill and left, moving towards the Holy Paradise. If he ought to attempt a rescue, he ought to know the battleground at least.

Entrance to the city had remained relatively unchanged, with big, towering arching gates barring anyone unwanted from entering. After paying the entry fee of 10 Mana Stones, Lynne blended in with the crowd and swam with the rhythm. Soon, he began encroaching upon the familiar streets, places of his childhood.

Most of his early years have been spent with his father in the Upper Ring and the Kingly Ring, but the rest of his years were mainly spent in the Lower Ring. He even recognized a place where a brothel used to be, a place where he first bed a woman.

Even the Lower Ring – prior slums – looked like a block torn from the fantasy painting, and the prior dirt pavements were now paved with beautiful limestone. Two cities appeared inside his mind, and he couldn’t help but lament softly. Nothing, in the end, was the same; even if the corners where he’d escape to after drinking a bit too much were still seemingly there, they were instead surrounded by fancy jewelry shops and high-rising inns.

Even the several squared plazas were bathed in the perfectly crafted buildings now, as if they did their best to erase any trace of Edgemaw they could. He quickly managed to squeeze into the previous Upper Ring, as he began walking the streets solemnly. The buildings were much sparser here, and it appeared to have similar function the previous Upper Ring had.

Everyone here was dressed in beautiful, royal attire, and no one could be seen walking – either it was a carriage dragged by horses, or several dozen muscular men and women carrying a cottage atop their shoulders.

Lynne, though, was quickly kicked out, driven back down, as he clearly didn’t belong. He didn’t resist, and just began walking back on his own volition. Realizing that he was slightly starving, he found a nearby restaurant and ordered some fish and baked potato.

He sat next to the window, gazing at the passing legs and hips, his sight unfocused. A terrible wave of nostalgia, pain, guilt, anger, hatred and many-a-other emotions swarmed him, and all he could do was remain silent. In the end, it felt as if they bastardized his home; even if he never truly fit in, it’s a place where he was born, where he grew up in.

He remember a small, archery field in the Upper Ring where his father used to take him when he was five. He could scarcely lift a bow – let alone pull the string – but his father remained patient. Bit by bit, without ever rising his voice, he led him through every step. In the end, at the age of five, he managed to learn the basics of archery.

There was also a graveyard, just at the edge of the far-away ring, where his mother was buried. Lynne would have often gone there when he fought with his father, but would never say anything. He’d just sit down and stare at the tombstone for an hour and leave.

The more he thought about it, the more he regretted the days of his youth. In the end he had to lower his head and hold back the tears as he began chewing on the potato. Why did I even come here? He thought. I can’t change a damn thing! Revenge?! What revenge?! I can’t even properly protect myself, and I want to seek revenge against the people that razed down my hometown!! I really have gone insane…

In the end, he returned back to the village and to his room, his mood extremely sour. He felt worse than the day he was escaping the massacre; back then, he felt he could one day return and reclaim the glory of yore. But, he realized, there was no point in reclaiming it, as none of those he wished were there to see it were still alive. He came here hoping, but never expecting, to change something. Perhaps, with a lucky chance, he might even have a chance to save his father.

However, a mere day of true reminiscing had left him feeling completely helpless.

“No,” he shook his head bitterly, gritting his teeth. “I ran away once. I can’t do it again. If nothing, I’ll stand there and stare at whatever happens! I can’t let dad die alone… even if he never learns I was there, it doesn’t matter. I’ve let him down too many times… I can’t do it again. No, never again! Dammit dad! Why did I become such a shitty person?! Why didn’t you beat me senseless every day since I was born?!!” he punched a nightstand next to his bed, shattering it into pieces. “Where did an entire year disappear to?! I’m just as weak as I was when I escaped this damned place!”

He fell back onto his bed, his eyes focused on the empty ceiling. He felt spiritless, drowned in thoughts he knew he can’t solve, yet couldn’t help but try… for to try is the only thing he felt he could do.

**

Deep beneath the Holy Paradise, in the dungeons reserved for the most heinous criminals, a man who appeared to be only skin and bones was breathing heavily, his eyes barely open. His hair had fallen down onto the floor, his legs broken backwards, and his chest scarred beyond repair. Were it not for the stiffened movement of his chest, one would assume it was a corpse.

A faint sound of approaching footsteps jolted him from his stupor, and he lifted his head, his eyes brimming with light of defiance. A man that appeared before him was middle-aged, his face downcast and sour, eyes brimming with anger. He wore flannel shirt, overcast with silver coat, filled to brim with golden garments.

“In the end,” he spoke in a grim tone. “You endured.”

“…”

“You think this is bravery?!!!” the man shouted, releasing all his pent up anger. “You think this is your martyrdom?! You might have caused another Great War, you complete imbecile!!”

“Good.”

“Good?! You think it’s good?!! The last war had cost Divine Realm over ten billion lives!! Ten of our Patriarchs had died!! Twelve Primordial Gods fell!! Countless Dragons, Phoenixes, Pegasuses and countless other species fell from sky like rain for decades!!”

“… do you think I care? Do you think anyone else cares?” Median asked in a low voice. “All those creatures you listed that had rained… they rained because they wanted to. You hunted them like pigs for sports for generations, you exterminated hundreds upon hundreds of clans down to the last child, you utterly savaged anyone who remotely threatened your undisputed throne… fuck you, fuck your family, fuck your goal, fuck your legacy, your dynasty, fuck everything you are and you represent!”

“You think you can avoid another war?! Even if I bent over, licked the sole of your feet and told you everything you wanted, you think you could have stopped it?! You had it coming since the day you let Lynne stay with me! Go on,” he suddenly began laughing manically. “Execute me! Humiliate me! Do whatever you want to me, I don’t care! I’ve already outlived my purpose… but some grand purpose that was. Ha ha ha! When your shriveled asses are trembling atop your high throne as millions of souls assail your walls, you will remember my name, and you will curse me to the ninth fucking heaven, but I still won’t care!! Ha ha ha!”

“… what did Yunchi ever see in you…”

“See in me? She saw everything you were not. Hah… but you even managed to break her. Congratulations. I wish you a few more decades of the joyous rule. Ha ha ha…”

The laughter resonated like thunder against the walls, biting the man there where it hurt the most. He couldn’t do anything but grit his teeth and leave; for a year, they’d always seemed to have hit the iron-cast wall when they try to get him to talk, and even a few days before his execution, nothing has changed. I need to contact the Uncle… we’ve yet to recover from the War, but I doubt they are in better place anyway. If need be, we’ll just do it again… but exterminate them all this time around…