Welcome friend;
I am the author, the creator of a world, both intricate and boundless locked within the layers of my brain, safeguarded by the ivory fortress of my skull.
This world, my world is beyond the laws of physics, but the meat of it you can sense the brutal hints of reality. It is a tapestry woven from the threads of dreams, where the boundaries between fantasy and reality fall apart like the wall of Berlin, and my thoughts unite into one big element until they reach my heart, where the war begins…
In the silent depths of my sleepless nights, i find myself drifting into ethereal landscape, traversing its terrains with the curiosity of an explorer and the wonder of a child. Midst giant mountains, amidst the ebb and flow of tides in endless oceans.
At times, i find myself embroiled in the chaos of battle, holding a sword and roar of a cannons echoing in my ears as i shed blood for the sake of waking up alive next morning.
Yet, in the next breath, i may find myself transported into the roman empire, wandering in the shape of a slave throughout the streets where history was made, until a lash of a gladiator's whip jolts me awake .
I have learned much about this world of mine that i call "home".
I will take your hand and wander with you throughout the journey, where you gonna see wondrous places, and witness tales that i would very like to share with you through every page you turn. As the thunder rumbles above the roof of this old house, mirroring the endless battlefields withing my mind, where my thoughts slice and kill each other, and the winner rise triumphant before you dear reader to come and enjoy the brief moments of freedom, before the sea turns red and the wage of war begins again. So if you allow me, today I'd like to take you in a journey, for today my thoughts decided to rest and allow me to reveal the traces they have left behind .
If you're reading this during winter days, I'd like you to make a cup of coffee and sit beside your window as the raindrops patter on your rooftop. Yet if summer graces your days, bless yourself with a little walk along the golden sand while the sea sings its sweetest tune. In the autumn, when the atmosphere shifts and the air carried the crisp scent of fallen leaves dancing gently in the breeze, and the days grow shorter, while the mind craves for happiness. Well, You can seek for warmth and solace throughout the pages of this book, until the spring bosoms anew and the nature awakens around you (unless if you don't have allergy).
I'd like you to hold on with me a little longer as i tell you my tales of the rising sun.
It's an island where the sun never rise, a landscape hidden behind layers of fog. Hidden away from the prying eyes of the world, holds within its walls a chilling truth. As you dive through, the mystery starts to solve itself. It's not a story about magic or dragons, not even witches nor Gods. Rather it's closer to reality, or maybe the reality itself being written in few pages.
In the heart of "the rising sun", the laws of civilization haven been torn and forgotten. It's a lawless land, fall of corruption, or let me say the consequences of what happens when human being are given certain degrees of power. A land where the instincts of humanity run rampant. Murder, rape, deceit and hatred stain the very soil which the forsaken land rests.
Here, there are no consequences of one's actions, no justice to be found, and strength is the only reliance to survive. The weak are given the gift of death before they realize where they were brought to.
It is a world where strong eats the weak, where brutality is rewarded with praise, while compassion is seen as a curse that needs to be diminished until one survives.
It is a land where the devil would find comfort upon his thrown, and where the devil exists, the light cannot find its way to shine towards the creator of the universe , and people become blind and deaf, though they see and hear everything, but only what the devil allows them to see and hear
for they sold their souls with a low price.
In their hands, tools become instruments of both creation and destruction, with pain bearing precision they made warships that stood as an example of their powerful skill.
At the prow of each ship stood a figurehead of breathtaking artistry, carved in the shape of dragons and serpents. Some boasted not one, but three dragon heads. Their eyes gleamed with life, casting an aura of power over the majesty of seas. As if every blood, sweat and each plank of wood, every nail driven into place and every stroke of the hammer awoken a burning soul in the heart of each ship, infusing it with power that would carry them through the chaos of storms and battle.
But the sea they feared the most, a myth they say their ships will be swallowed by the demons of the sea, and those who died will eventually come back with the shape of monstrous demons and kill the rest living.
But there was one incident which made the sea becomes the Islanders main fear.
It was the craftsmanship of the first ship.
To be continued…