Every night before bed, my mother always reads me a bedtime story. Tonight was no exception
I asked her to reread one of my favorite books: The War of Heaven and Ruin
Despite being a children's book that my mom read to me before bed, it was based on real story. Everything in this book truly did happen. It must be to teach younger kids like me the history of our world in a more entertaining and simplified way.
"Are you ready, dear?"
"Yeah, I'm ready"
This is the story of how Earth became hell.
"300 years ago, a Holy War broke out. It was a war between the rulers of the cosmos, who maintained order in our world. The gods versus the catastrophes. While the gods handled life, the catastrophes took care of death. Both of them kept order in this world, like two sides of the same coin.
That was until the King of Catastrophes got greedy.
He wished to takeover the heavenly realm to rule earth all by himself. The result was an all out war.
In the eyes of the humans, all we could see was shooting stars clashing at each other and dancing in the skies. But up there, was a cruel bloodshed. The catastrophes were losing.
As a last effort, the King of Catastrophes broke the pact of interference by descending onto earth with his 4 generals to try and take over earth. A castle no one had ever seen was born in the west, which became the new home of the demons. It didn't take long for the Gods to notice, but by the time they did, earth had completely flipped upside down. The population reduced by half. Towns were burned down and raided.
Humanity was in despair, they were utterly defenseless."
"Do you remember what happens next?"
"To give humanity a fair advantage, an angel called Seraphiel was sent down to bless 3 heroes, who would later seal away the King and his kind. Lionel, the sword master; Vespera, the great mage, and Thalia the priestess of life. Right?"
"That's exactly right, Kael"
The rest of the book is pretty simple. Once their mission was complete, the three heroes passed down their knowledge, preparing humanity for the day the Tyrant might return.
Peace was upheld and humanity thrived again. Slowly but surely, the world was rebuilt.
That was until 15 years ago, when the Ruler of catastrophes and all his demons broke through the seal. Deep down everyone knew this would happen someday.
"I think your father will be getting home soon, you should go to sleep before he gets angry again"
My bedroom was a closet in the far back of the house. We practically lived in a shed. From time to time I could hear the critters in our walls when I tried to sleep.
My father despises me. In a world where magic and sword skills thrive, I was born completely talentless. He always tells my mom that if it weren't for such a useless son like me, they could live a better life instead of merely surviving. Part me of thought he was right, but my mother never agreed to it. She has faith that I'll become a great warrior one day and bring hope to this world.
Shortly after leaving my room, I heard yelling the room next to mine. My father was back. Like always, he was angry. Angry at anything and everything, blaming anything and everything.
I heard a loud bang, as if someone fell to the ground. I slightly opened the door to check and I was right. My mom was laying on the ground.
My father had gotten really drunk that night and started hitting her. This wasn't exactly rare, but this time, he looked like he would seriously kill her.
I ran out of my room and yelled at him to stop hitting her. That's when I saw my dad walking towards me.
"Don't you dare lay a hand on my boy"
His eyes, bloodshot and wild, locked onto me. His lips twisted into a drunken sneer. Then he moved—fast. Too fast. A rough hand clamped onto my arm, fingers digging in like a vice. The next thing I knew, the room was spinning.
I hit my head on the wall and was concussed for a short while. I wondered what my mom had seen in that man. Why she chose to marry such a piece of shit like him.
I remember her telling me in the past that he wasn't always a bad man, he had changed around the time that the second war broke out. He was confused on what to do and desperate to survive, which led him to become a heavy drinker.
After opening my eyes again, I took a minute to adjust my sight. Everything was blurry.
I finally managed to make out what was happening in front of me.
My father was sitting on top of my mother with his hands around her neck.
He was slowly killing her.
My legs locked in place, refusing to listen. My breath hitched, shallow and uneven, as if my ribs were caving in. My fingers twitched at my sides, but no matter how much I screamed at myself to move, I stood frozen—useless—watching as my mother's life slipped away.
Reaching out with her necklace in hand, my mom tried to voice up a few words.
"Run. Run…away"
I couldn't bring myself to run. I didn't want to abandon the only person in the world who loved me. She was the kindest soul in the world and the prettiest woman I knew. She was my everything.
Barely managing to muster up her breath, she whispered to me:
"Forge your own path, Kael"
"Keep living no matter what"
I was met with a silence, one that felt like it lasted an eternity.
My mother was no longer moving.
My mother spoke her last words.
My mom… was dead.
Glancing to my left, I saw the knife my father used to hunt lower ranked catastrophes. Slowly, I walked to the knife. Focussing on nothing but that damned knife. Too drunk to realize, my father stood there, strangling a corpse that had already died.
Right foot, then my left. I slowly approached that devil of a man.
The knife sank into his flesh with sickening ease. His body jerked, and for a moment, his drunken eyes met mine—wide, unfocused, disbelieving. Warm liquid spilled over my fingers, coating my hands in something darker than I'd ever imagined. The smell of iron flooded my nose. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else. He gurgled a wet, awful sound, before his weight collapsed onto me. I gasped. My knees buckled. My father was dead. And I had killed him.
What was this feeling in me? Guilt? Remorse?
No.
It wasn't anything along the lines of feeling bad for that old shit.
I was relieved. So relieved that all I could do was smile. I smiled so hard that the sides of my mouth were hurting.
So why was I crying? Why did I feel tears flowing down my cheeks?
Ah, that's right. I'm only alive cause of my mother.
Because of her sacrifice, I could go on living.
Part of me was grateful, but what now? I have nowhere to go. No home to return to.
After collecting my thoughts, I packed my bags, took my mother's necklace, and got ready to leave.
I need to take responsibility for what I've done.
"No matter how much blood stains my hands, I will forge a world where no one has to live in fear."