The first light of dawn bathed Venlores in a golden glow, the sky a canvas of soft pastels. The sun began its slow ascent, casting long, dappled shadows across the cobblestone streets. The enchanting melodies of flutes echoed through the air, carried by a gentle breeze. It was a scene of serene beauty, where nature seemed to dance in harmony with the architectural wonders of the city. The lush greenery sparkled with dew, and the waterscapes reflected the vibrant colors of the upside-down rainbow mountains in the distance.
Fheniz Wrings, now eight, made his way through the town with a familiar energy. He had grown slightly taller, his hair just as spiky but now with a hint of wildness that matched his adventurous spirit. Dressed in his usual blue vest and red shorts, he navigated the morning streets with the confidence of a seasoned traveler, despite his small stature. The slippers he wore—a pair that was clearly too big—had surprisingly lasted a year. They flopped against the ground with each step, a constant reminder of his encounter with the eccentric Burohagikun.
As Fheniz approached Mr. Palket's house, he couldn't help but admire the view. Perched near the higher hills by the sea, the house overlooked a scene so breathtaking that missing it would indeed feel like a grave misdeed. Mr. Palket, a kind-hearted man with a penchant for simplicity, was already waiting at the gate. He was dressed in his signature outfit—a brown, black, and orange bucket hat matching his long overcoat. His eyes, though softened by age, were sharp and lively, reflecting a life well-lived.
Fheniz, spotting Mr. Palket from a distance, quickened his pace. He knew he was late today, a rare occurrence. As he reached the gate, he greeted with a wide grin, "Morning, Uncle Palket! Sorry for being late."
Mr. Palket chuckled, his voice warm with affection. "Ah, Fheniz, there you are. You know, the older you get, the more punctual you should be," he teased, accepting the newspaper with a twinkle in his eye.
Fheniz laughed, "I know, I know. But I was up early, I swear! I saw something strange in the sky—this green star, bright and beautiful. It didn't fade away even as the sun rose. I got so lost in its beauty that I lost track of time."
Mr. Palket's curiosity was piqued. He looked up at the sky, searching for this mysterious star. "A green star, you say? How curious. I've never seen one like that either," he mused, scanning the heavens. "It's gone now, though. Perhaps it will return tomorrow. You seem quite fascinated by the sky, Fheniz."
Fheniz nodded enthusiastically. "It's like an endless canvas, filled with wonders we've yet to discover. I can't help but look up and imagine what's out there."
Mr. Palket smiled, touched by the boy's wonder and curiosity. "The sky holds many secrets, my boy. Perhaps one day, you'll uncover them." He unfolded the newspaper, scanning the headlines. "Let's see what today's news brings."
The two stood in comfortable silence, the air filled with the distant sounds of the waking city. The scene was perfect, like a painting come to life, with the rich hues of the sky and the vibrant green of the landscape merging seamlessly. Birds chirped melodiously, flitting between the blooming flowers and the lush foliage. Butterflies danced in the air, their wings catching the light and adding to the magic of the morning.
As Mr. Palket skimmed through the newspaper, Fheniz leaned against the gate, his eyes drifting back to the sky. He couldn't shake the image of the green star. It was unlike anything he had ever seen—a radiant point of light that seemed to pulse with a mysterious energy. It felt as if the universe had whispered a secret to him, a secret he was eager to understand.
Mr. Palket glanced up from the paper, noticing the boy's dreamy expression. "You know, Fheniz, not everything in this world has an explanation. Some things are meant to be mysterious, to keep us wondering."
Fheniz tilted his head, considering the words. "But doesn't that make it even more exciting? To not know, but to keep searching?"
Mr. Palket's eyes softened. "Indeed, it does. It's the curiosity and the quest for knowledge that keep us young at heart, no matter our age."
The conversation flowed naturally, like a stream meandering through a peaceful valley. Fheniz's youthful energy and Mr. Palket's sage wisdom created a harmonious contrast, each bringing out the best in the other. Fheniz, in turn, respected Mr. Palket's calm demeanor and appreciated his insightful perspectives.
As the sun climbed higher, casting a warm glow over everything it touched, the beauty of Venlores seemed to intensify. The sea sparkled like a bed of diamonds, and the mountains in the distance appeared even more vibrant, their colors shifting in the changing light. The city was a living masterpiece, a place where the ordinary became extraordinary.
Fheniz took a deep breath, savoring the crisp morning air. "This place is amazing, isn't it?" he said, almost to himself.
Mr. Palket nodded, his gaze sweeping over the landscape. "Yes, it truly is. We are fortunate to live in such a beautiful part of the world. It's a reminder to cherish every moment, to find joy in the simple things."
Fheniz looked at his slippers, remembering Burohagikun's words from nearly a year ago. "Uncle Burohagi told me these slippers wouldn't last long, but they did. Almost a year now, and they're still going strong."
Mr. Palket chuckled, "Well, sometimes people are mistaken. Or perhaps you've taken such good care of them that they've lasted longer than expected."
"Maybe," Fheniz mused, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Or maybe they're magical slippers!"
Mr. Palket laughed heartily at that. "Magical slippers, eh? Who knows? In a world like ours, anything is possible."
The conversation drifted to other topics—news from the newspaper, the latest happenings, and the upcoming harvest season in Gerwanis. Preparations were ongoing for the festival all over the country and King Ishizal Lensior was going to sing a new anthem live that he wrote himself praising the country's floriculture, horticulture and hard work. He did that every year.
Mr. Palket, with his worn and gentle hands, flipped through the pages of the newspaper, skimming past the usual gossip and mundane updates, his habit was to check the smaller updates first and then come to the big news if there was any. As he reached the front page, his expression shifted dramatically. The headline, blaring in bold capital letters, read:
"WORLD NOBLE RENO EHASOR DEAD, SON HOROZONDAY ASCENDS TO THE MIGHTY YAHUNYEN EMPIRE'S THRONE."
His face hardened, a shadow of concern clouding his usually kind eyes. The gravity of the news seemed to pull him into deep contemplation. Meanwhile, Fheniz, still lost in his own world, was scanning the sky for the elusive green star, a celestial mystery that had captured his imagination. Noticing the change in Mr. Palket's demeanor, Fheniz turned his attention back to the older man, curious and slightly concerned.
"Uncle Palket, you look so serious. Is something wrong with the newspaper?" Fheniz asked, his voice carrying a mix of innocence and worry.
Mr. Palket shook his head slowly, his eyes not leaving the page. "There's nothing wrong with the newspaper, Fheniz," he replied, his voice low and troubled. "Everything is wrong with the world."
Fheniz frowned, not fully understanding the weight of Mr. Palket's words. "What do you mean? What's so bad about this news?"
With a sigh, Mr. Palket folded the newspaper and looked at the boy, his gaze heavy with a burden of history and sorrow. "You are too young to fully grasp the complexities of our world, Fheniz. But perhaps it's time you learn a little about the harsh realities that exist beyond the beauty of Venlores."
Fheniz's curiosity was piqued, his bright eyes widening with anticipation. "Tell me, Uncle Palket. I want to understand."
Mr. Palket leaned back, taking a deep breath as he began to explain. "The man who died, Reno Ehasor, was not just any noble. He was one of the most powerful figures in the world, ruling over the Yahunyen Empire. This empire, Fheniz, is a dark shadow cast over many lands. It thrives on oppression, cruelty, and unimaginable acts of inhumanity."
Fheniz listened intently, his young mind trying to piece together the gravity of what he was hearing. "But what did he do that was so bad?" he asked, his voice soft, almost hesitant.
Mr. Palket hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Reno Ehasor was responsible for countless atrocities. He treated Aearthalings' lives as commodities, buying and selling people like livestock. Just recently, before his death, he struck a final, horrific deal. He sold twenty-one billion slaves to Aorpen Roban, the king of the Kingdom of Thoronis in the country of Domiyahn. These people were given as a 'gift' to Roban's son, Nadenai, on his birthday."
Fheniz's eyes widened in shock, the concept of buying and selling people almost incomprehensible to him. "That's terrible! How can anyone do that?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief and horror.
Mr. Palket nodded gravely. "It is a nightmare, Fheniz. The Yahunyens have been exploiting the country of Mackenas for generations, draining its resources and enslaving its people. The Mackenasians suffer greatly under their rule, with no hope of freedom in sight. And it's not just Mackenas. The Yahunyen Empire has cast its dark influence over many lands, including Domiyahn, where the practice of slavery is not only tolerated but celebrated by its rulers."
The old man's voice grew heavy with sadness as he continued, "There was a time when our own land, Gerwanis, was under the yoke of the Yahunyens. They exploited our people, drained our resources, and left us in poverty. But our ancestors fought bravely, resisting their oppressors until we finally gained our freedom. (Well, no, the Yahunyens left the land because it had no great resources that could attract them, the damn old man is in a stupid delusion, lol) Today, Gerwanis is a peaceful nation, humble in its wealth but rich in its freedom and serenity."
Fheniz felt a mix of emotions—anger, sadness, and a deep sense of injustice. "Why doesn't anyone stop them?" he asked, his voice trembling with a newfound seriousness.
Mr. Palket sighed, his eyes distant. "The Yahunyen Empire is powerful, Fheniz. Their reach is long, and their influence is vast. Many fear them, and those who do not often lack the means to oppose them. Even the Kingdom of Thoronis, under King Aorpen Roban, has fallen under their sway, becoming complicit in their vile practices. The world is a complex place, and sometimes, those with power use it for evil."
He paused, looking at Fheniz with a mixture of sadness and hope. "But there are always those who resist, those who fight for what's right. Our history in Gerwanis is proof of that. We were once oppressed, but we rose up and reclaimed our freedom. The same is true for other nations like Mercia, Aximia, and Orivalin. They too have struggled and fought against tyranny."
Fheniz's fists clenched in anger. "It's not fair. People shouldn't be treated like that. They shouldn't be bought and sold."
Mr. Palket placed a gentle hand on Fheniz's shoulder, his expression softening. "You're right, Fheniz. It's not fair. And it's up to each generation to fight against such injustices. There are good people out there, people who stand up against tyranny and oppression." (Tch, cliche)
He looked up at the sky, where the sun was now fully risen, casting its golden light over Venlores. "You have a kind heart, Fheniz. Never lose that. The world needs people who care, people who are willing to stand up for what's right."
Fheniz nodded, his young face set with a new resolve. "I will, Uncle Palket. I'll always stand up for what's right."
Mr. Palket smiled, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "I know you will, my boy. The future belongs to the young, and it's up to you to shape it."
As they bid each other farewell, Fheniz felt a deep sense of contentment. The morning had been perfect, filled with the simple pleasures of good conversation and the beauty of nature, along that he got to know something new. Someone as young as him wouldn't be told anything about all this. Also, no one maintained any connection with him except Burohagikun and Mr. Palket. As he walked away, he couldn't help but glance back at Mr. Palket's house, the old man now settled comfortably in his chair, the newspaper open on his lap.
"See you tomorrow, Uncle Palket!" Fheniz called out, waving.
"Take care, Fheniz!" Mr. Palket waved back, a fond smile on his face.
The news of Reno Ehasor's death and the ascension of his son, Horozonday, to the throne of the Yahunyen Empire had spread like wildfire through Venlores on that day. Everywhere Fheniz went, the townsfolk were buzzing with discussions about the Yahunyens, their oppressive rule, and the uncertain future. Even as Fheniz went about his daily tasks, he couldn't escape the constant chatter.
"Fix it fast, boy! There's a lot of news about the Yahunyens, can't miss it," urged Mr. Fortenwack, an elderly man who frequently brought his radio to Fheniz for repairs.
Another customer, Mrs. Thewber, added, "Did you hear? Horozonday's already making moves. They say he's even more ruthless than his father!"
Fheniz sighed inwardly, his patience wearing thin. "I'll have it fixed in a jiffy, Mrs. Thewber" he replied, trying to mask his irritation with a forced smile.
Yet, the conversations continued unabated. "I wonder what this means for the Mackenasians," mused a passerby to his companion. "Will things get better or worse?"
"There's a lot news about them." "They say Reno had killed even dragons." "I wonder how powerful were they in history?" "They have caused great suffering, power can make people do anything." "Only with power you can run the world the way you want to." "Many things are yet to happen!" "Did you know? The don't belong to our world!" "They have come from beyond the stars and they ruled on our world like absolutes!" "It's said that they are working on new technology." "They are working on a new project." "We don't know what fate they gonna bring to the modern world." "But sometimes I wonder, even if they have oppressed and abrupted the peace of the world, they are somehow kinda awesome!" "Yeah, you're right! Why do even I feel that?" "Maybe because we aren't suffering currently or facing their oppression, and enjoying whatever they are doing, it is entertaining the world." "You are goddamn right, hahahahaha."
Fheniz found himself surrounded by these words in the world around him, as far he could go. These words were literally dancing and going round and round his brain which irritated him to the core. Almost everyday, one or the other news about the Yahunyens was getting published in the newspapers. Headlines, podcasts and discussions on radios and newly invented televisions were rising like instant fire.
"Stupid Yahunyens!!" Fheniz muttered under his breath. The oppressive discussions about the Yahunyens, whom he saw as nothing more than cruel tyrants, grated on his nerves. Why was everyone so obsessed with them? They were nothing special, just oppressors and tyrants.
One particularly busy day, after delivering newspapers at dawn, Fheniz decided he'd had enough. He needed a break from the incessant talk of the Yahunyen Empire. After delivering his last newspaper, he headed towards the serene green landscapes near the upside-down mountains, where hundreds of large rainbows arched across the sky, giving the area an otherworldly glow.
As he walked, he muttered to himself, "What's so great about the Yahunyens anyway? They're just a bunch of bullies with a fancy name." He kicked a pebble, watching it skitter across the path. "Everyone's acting like they're the most important thing in the world. It's nothing but glorification of wrong doings!! I feel bad for those people who were sold to that other kingdom, I wonder if they are in a better condition or worse after getting out of their country. I don't think they are free but I hope their sufferings have lessened. But how am I even supposed to know? I ain't interested in news anymore. They have nothing else but yap-yap on the Yahunyens. At most, cruelty spreads."
Reaching the lush, verdant fields, Fheniz felt a sense of calm wash over him. The beauty of the landscape was mesmerizing. The upside-down mountains loomed majestically, their flat peaks touching the heavens while their pointed ends seemed to anchor them to the earth. Rainbows danced across the sky, their vibrant colors reflecting off the dew-kissed grass.
Fheniz found a soft patch of grass and sat down, his body relaxing as he took in the tranquility of the surroundings. He lay back, letting the grass cradle his spiky hair. The sky above was a brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy clouds that drifted lazily. Birds chirped melodiously, insects buzzed harmoniously, and the sunlight bathed everything in a warm, golden glow.
"This is more like it," Fheniz sighed contentedly. "No talk of Yahunyens, no work, just peace."
He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the sun and the coolness of the grass lull him into a state of relaxation. The sweet sound of distant flutes added to the idyllic atmosphere. For a moment, he felt completely at ease, free from the burdens of his daily life.
But the peace was short-lived. Just as he was drifting off into a pleasant nap, a discordant, jarring sound shattered the tranquility. It was a flute, but not the harmonious kind. This one produced a cacophony of unmelodious and funny notes that grated on Fheniz's ears.
He bolted upright, his peaceful expression replaced by one of annoyance. "What in the world is that racket?" he grumbled, looking around to find the source of the disturbance.
To his disbelief, he saw a man perched on a large rock nearby, attempting to play a flute. The man's technique was laughably poor, his fingers fumbling over the holes, producing a series of squeaks and honks that were more comical than musical. Fheniz gritted his teeth and clenched his fist.
"Seriously? Just when I thought I found some peace," Fheniz muttered, getting to his feet. He decided to confront the man and ask him to stop playing his atrocious music.
As he approached, he noticed that the man looked somewhat familiar. Squinting, he tried to recall where he had seen him before. The man wore a familiar jacket, Fheniz had seen before and seemed like the person who wouldn't give a shit despite disturbing someone.
"Hey!" Fheniz called out, trying to keep his voice steady despite his rising irritation. "Could you please stop that?!"
Pronunciations:
Mr. Palket: [PAUL]+[KAY]
Reno: [REE]+[NO]
Thoronis: [THO]+[ROW]+[NEES]
Aorpen Roban: [AY]+[OR]+[PEN]+[ROW]+[BAAN]
Nadenai Roban: [NAA]+[DEY]+NAA]+[EE]+[ROW]+[BAAN]
Domiyahn: [DOW]+[MEE]+[YA]+[AHN]
Aximia: [AX]+[EE]+[MEE]+[AH]
Orivalin: [O]+[REE]+[VAA]+[LIN]
Mr. Fortenwack: [FOR]+[TEN]+[WACKE]
Mrs. Thewber: [THEW]+[BEHR]