[Volume I] The Star Trial: Grief & Acceptance

I was destined by the God's word to die twice,

losing my former peace and repose

in an unbreakable cycle of violence,

but as long as the Fire burns in my heart,

spread across the universe by a Thousand Winds;

as long as Hope shines in my eyes,

my journey will be full of meetings and farewells,

and I shall walk it side by side with nothing but

with the Dream and the Sword.

***

      It is sometimes said that the world was big enough for both of us, but we cannot claim that this is the pure truth. Often there simply isn't enough room on this huge bloody stage for everyone, and we have to raise our flags to make our presence known here. Without violence there will be none of your rainbow diplomacy, without war we will simply be crushed without a shred of regret, without blood our voices will not be heard by anyone here, especially the Gods. We're being poisoned like rotten little vermin, trying to cleanse the kingdoms of naive trash like me. And there are many who simply want to be able to dream and look forward without fear of the consequences of their every move and hand movement, but that seems to be simply and irrevocably impossible here. The powers that be had long ago destroyed any other options and paths, following only the Divine Order of the Creator himself, not wanting to look around. Perhaps they were simply blinded by his unquenchable radiant light that frames the crown? Drowsed by the slow and harmonious flow of the melody of the strings of the Divine harp, on which the life of every mortal being in the Universe is played? Their minds lost and died somewhere in the middle of their distant journey; all life rotted away, losing all its primordial nature; and emotions lost any meaning without the shining stars overhead, like the smiles of their neighbors. And even the Divine fire of creation inside their bodies has long since died out.       World peace is so utopian and sweet, like the tea he loved so much in his distant childhood. People continue to live in their fantasies, dreaming of clear skies above their heads, but it will never happen, ever. As long as they don't hear us, don't understand us, we will keep screaming and exposing the blades of ceremonial knives, kill our neighbors again and again, and break the sacred commandments given to us by the Creator of our mortal and foolish, meaningless lives. Why do we exist? Why were we created to be so weak? Are we here only to suffer and eat dirt from under the boots of our masters? He thinks it's all about naked power and strength, and I agree with him. Unfortunately, his ideas are so deliriously ambitious that they overshadow everything else. Like the supreme power of the Tree, like the wise Dragon himself, he can never be a good ruler unless he learns to listen, accept and remain silent in the moment of need. With power, one must also have the intelligence to command it, but he is extremely shortsighted to do so. All he wants is raw power and a place on the throne, avoiding a bloody conversation with the disgruntled people, who just shut out all their endless negativity behind the smiles stretched over their dirty faces. After all, they all love him so much, revere him so much, can't say a word in His Majesty's direction. Don't they look like some bedfellows?       I pity this world. Created out of dirt and remnants of the Creator's former power, populated by scumbag idiots and thieves who are in exile from their worlds for sin's sake. We all keep killing each other over and over again for an extra handful of gold, but they do it so dirty, so disgusting, that it makes me sick to watch their crooked grin. Sometimes there is simply no point in talking to even the most brilliant scientist, because he will stick exclusively to his own point of view, not accepting all others. Reminds me of someone very much, don't you think? I'm so tired of writing all this, so tired of talking about everything that's going on in the world, but no one has heard or read a single of my words. One day I will get to that bloody stage, one day the sun itself will turn to me, and my silhouette will finally be on top where I will be heard. We will all be heard. And we will count to five.       I hope this foolish child will be better than his cruel and equally foolish predecessor. He was born pure, and I believe he will remain so for the rest of his days, which again go to the short count. Sadly, these are only my pleas, and this world is sure to defile those naive blue eyes. Why the world, though? Its people, its mores, its desires and dreams. So down-to-earth, so… Dirty. People come as no one has ever seen them; as they are best not remembered.       People are capable of hating through a veil of feigned love, and loving through a veil of hate. Even the cleverest, most powerful mage in the world cannot explain it, so he must take my word for it. He must understand it for himself, to know who is worth killing and who is worth sparing. One day, he will learn that. Everyone will learn it. Even me.       No respect, no regret, no pleasantries. I hope they will all perish, all, all, absolutely all.       Your dear and only friend.