Horrors and Dreams

Chapter 2- Horrors and Dreams

Tales of old, and of new, all tell the same.

They tell of humans, of nature, and of gods.

They tell of fools, of the wise, and of the damned.

They tell of tragedy, of sin, and of joy.

But more than anything, they tell of the past. The past which once was, and is no more. What of it then? Why is it told? Why does the past matter so much to humans?

The past teaches. For as long as humans have existed, they've always learned from their past mistakes. Perhaps this is the reason to acknowledge the past.

But what of the horrors that occurred in the past, why are they written about? They don't teach, do they? The horrors, which can fuel just about anyone's madness, why were they ever written about? The horrors, which can make a sane man go insane, why were they ever written about? The horrors, of man, and of gods, why were they ever written about?

Long ago, the skies shone endlessly with the bright sunlight. The sun never set, and there was always light. The earth was blessed and overseen by gods and angels. The Kingdoms, their kings, and their knights, nothing existed. What existed were pure humans, the Ethious, free of all sins and sorrow. The Ethious didn't weep for the dead, they knew no sadness, for all was a divine gift for them. They cremated the dead, because they believed that fire was the beginning as well as the end.

The Ethious didn't seek power, and so they didn't betray or slaughter. The Ethious didn't pray to any gods, they only thanked them, because they couldn't ask for anything more than they already had. They were complete and content.

Humanity existed, untroubled, and peacefully.

But the Grand Fate, which rules one and all, which cannot be escaped, had already made its plans.

For the first time in their existence, humans saw a dark sky, covered in dark clouds. As strong and destructive winds blew due south, and as lightning struck every second, the darkness took over the whole world. The cattle wept and beasts cried, as everything seemed to come to an end. That day, amidst the chaos, the First Sinner was born. His cries could be heard from miles, mixed with the noise of the wind, it seemed as if the winds were crying that day.

He took the life of his mother the instant he was born. They named him Devomo, and years later after his birth, he would earn himself the name, Devomo the Sinner. And the age of Devomo came to be known as The Age of Horrors.

Devomo the Sinner committed sins of all kinds. The pure earth of the Ethious, was not so pure anymore. Humanity suffered as Devomo ruled. He ruled not to conquer, as there was nothing he could have conquered. He ruled because he believed that it was his destiny to rule, his purpose. He considered himself the leader of all humanity, the descendant of gods.

But he was neither a god, nor a descendant, he was simply a sinner. He did not bear just one sin, but he bore them all. Rather, he gave birth to them all. The seven deadly sins, Greed, Pride, Wrath, Gluttony, Sloth, Lust and Envy, were all seen in an Ethious for the first time.

He was not born as a spawn of the devil, but so that the devil could exist. For it was not his fate to be the devil, it was to create him.

Devomo was born as a human, and perished as one, not as a devil, not as a god, and not as a sinner, he died just like the rest of them. For no matter how evil the person is, there are always some who weep, and so there were those who wept for Devomo. And there were those who wrote of him.

Devomo was said to have spoilt the holy earth. The gods’ most beloved creation, humanity, blemished by another human, a mere human, so effortlessly. But where were the gods when humanity was suffering because of a single man?

…………

“Sin does not exist alone, for where there is sin, there is also good.” Says the opening line of the Ardvenian legends.

Devomo may have given birth to sin, but he did not destroy the good of this world.
Humans somehow always find hope even in the direst of conditions, they have the power to find good. Or instead, become the good themselves.

“But Kings are good, aren’t they father?”

“Not all of them son, some are bad too.”

“Then is our king good or bad?”

Kings, they live a fulfilling life. Lavish, complete and satisfying, or so do people believe. More than their lives, their subjects look up to their persona. They adore and respect them. They wish to be like them. Everyone loves their kings. Kings represent people, and people are defined by their ambitions. Every child in the kingdom wishes to be the king one day, he wishes to be that symbol of hope. Too naïve to understand, he wishes to be something he can never be. He dreams, just like everyone else. And he realizes later in life that it was all nothing but a childish dream. And just like that, a dream, full of happiness and joy, hope and ambition, gets crushed. Saddening to think of, yet real in all senses.

Two innocent souls, father and on, having nothing but sorrow in their lives and no-one to rely on, found happiness in a dream. A dream of a young boy who knows nothing of the world and its severity.

"Father, why did mother have to leave us?" Asked the son, too immature to understand the concept of death.

The farther didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly say that would make sense to his eight year old son? But he had to say something nonetheless, he said, "She was ill, son. She's off to a better place now."

The son was confused and asked, “What better place? Will she get the treatment for her sickness there?"

"Yes son, of course. She will get everything she needs." The father replied.

The answer made the son all the more curious, he asked another question, "Is that so? Where is this place?"

The father was not sure whether he would understand, but he felt that he needed to answer anyway, "It’s called heaven, son, and we all go there after we've spent our time on earth."

"I see. But why couldn't she get treatment here father? I'm sure the King would've helped her. He's a great man." The son replied.

The father was shocked, how did such a small child conclude for himself that their king was great? “What makes you say the king is a great man son?” He wanted to ask, but he didn’t. Instead, he said, "The King? No son, the King doesn't care about the likes of us."

"Why is that?" the son asked, he was rather bewildered. Both the son and father had contrasting notions about the king.

"Because we're too insignificant for him." The father replied, trying to make his child aware of the true nature of kings, or maybe the nature he understood.

“Insignificant?” the son was befuddled. "How can a king not care for his subjects because they’re insignificant? I would've cared for a poor sick lady if I were the King." He added.

"I'm sure you would have." The father replied with a smile on his face. He smiled, maybe because he was proud that he had raised a kind son.

The son smiled back at his father and asked in a naïve tone, “Can I ever become the King father?”

The father didn’t know what to say. It was probably right to tell his that he could become a king one day, but the father was also afraid that it would give him false hopes, and it wouldn’t be fair when later he would learn the harsh truth. But he had no other choice than to keep his son’s heart. “Yes son, you can be the king, if you’re worthy enough, that is.” He replied.

“How do I become worthy?” the son asked.

“Well, to be to worthy of being a king, you have to be brave and kind.” The father replied.

“If I care about sick people like mother, does that make me kind?” the son asked in wonder, he was not sure about the true meaning of being kind.

“Yes, that makes you very kind.” The father replied.

“Then how do I become brave?” The son added. He was too curious about the matter.

“To be brave means to face your difficulties head on, without hesitation. Brave men don’t turn their back on problems son, they face them with all their might.” The father replied, trying to make it as simple as he could for his child.

The son didn’t say anything for a while. He looked down on the ground.
A few seconds later he lift his face up and said with a smile, “Then I’ll be very kind and very brave, father, and then I’ll become a king. I’ll be the bravest and the kindest king ever.”

The father smiled back at him, and said as he rubbed his hand on his head, embracing him, “I know it for sure son, you’ll definitely become a great king.”

End of Chapter 2