Temple Of Life
[Third person POV]
Inside a magnificent city, a temple stood tall amidst the endless houses. It is The Temple of Life, adored as the capital of God. Its immaculate white marble that had once worked as pillars of faith is now weakly holding a paragon of faith.
Inside the temple, a frail scent of smoke and blood lingered through the air — a type of scent that feels oddly nostalgic, although corrupted — hitting the depths of the soul.
A crimson light, seamless in tone, traveled through hallways where one could only see loneliness — one terrorizingly deep and liminal, allaying the senses and bringing a primal dread.
The few humans inside the temple had horrible deformities, spanning hands full of bloats and blood, intermixed by a sticky substance which steamed a mist of decay, physically altering its surroundings.
Aeternia — the energy of god, is worthless. Cardinals around the world, fueled by faith, have been trying to use it once again — even if it cost them their lives, going as far as perishing for their cause.
The energy of God, the almighty, has been corrupted. Those who attempt to use it are struck by very heavy penalties. His presence has left these halls, and what remains is a desolate crimson light.
Inside the grandest room of the temple, an intricate ceiling accompanied by ornaments of faith painted the picture of something resembling a traditional church, with a rose window that revealed a dark night. The intricate details that showered the room were vastly complex and beautiful, the contrast between gold and gore served as a grim reminder for those inside the institution. Decay and wealth, served in the same picture.
- A voice, with a deep tone — that of a man that has gone through all the vicissitudes of the world, echoed through the room. "God left me to rot." it said, accompanied by slumped shoulders — not by fatigue but rather originating from a profoundly eldritch illness
His hands subconsciously trailed off to his face, yet he forced them down. Those hands — which had been instruments of faith, now carried hanging pieces of loose meat intertwined with a red fungus.
- Another man in the room, looking at the scene, replied; "Don't say that. He will always protect us, this is all a plan of the almighty." although his words faltered by the end, looking at the state of his colleague.
- In rebuttal, the deep voice soon followed. "God left you too. Look at yourself."
The silence grew tense, as the faithful cardinal looked at himself. The closest human to God now laid as the living testament of how far away from him one can be — arms so corrupted, pained — with so many horrific blisters that made one shake in horror weakly held a staff.
- The deep voice followed; "One of our own tried to perform an exorcism the other day — that day, god decided to leave two. A father, and a daughter that will now die like a dog, malnourished in the streets."
- "Blasphemy" He cut off, his words spat from his mouth with anger "You are in the wrong, for there is no chance that god — a being that has shown to be by my side, and only by light, would ever decide to do that.
As his words left his body, his whole being trembled. His declarations were only illusions of strength, those of a soon to be dead man. His body, blooming apart by fleshy warts and dark veins served as a warning for other cardinals.
- "Another piece of the cosmos, thrown to the abyss. Without his holiness, we've been left with naught. It creeps from below us, nothing will last much longer. Only those who remain to let go will survive. "
[ ~ ]
Far away from the temple, a crimson light was cast from the moon, bathing an astral night sky. The whole scenery was majestical— although now corrupted by the lingering shadow of darkness. The crimson was an undertone, requiring a superior force to fully gauge it.
A forest nearby, captured by its gloomy radiance, shone with an eerie light. It is called the forest of Valis, circling the outer walls of the country's capital. It is a rather eccentric place, without many secrets, although home to some gated communities.
Amidst the forest of Valis, there was a Japanese themed manor, with a closed garden. An old man sat on the manor's deck — deeply entranced within his book and pen, writing some notes.
Far from the deck, a black haired youth was practicing his sword arts with utmost mastery, wearing traditional clothes. His name is Arden.
The air was ceremoniously peaceful– although the serenity was broken when the youth began irradiating a mesmerizing white fire from his blade.
He started slashing again, every move of his perfectly straight — using his entire body to follow through most cuts. Sometimes, he aimed up to the sky and unleashed a brutal slash that could expand for dozens of meters, leaving a fiery haze behind.
The fire that left his blade left behind lotuses and patterns of beautiful form, showing distinct shapes — every single one of them carrying a violent purpose.
Behind the white flames, one could see green eyes — locked in, intense beyond measure. Surrounding them, a skin of the fairest of whites adorned a face perfect in features.
- "Arden, come over here." The old man exclaimed, leaving his pen on the table. His eyes trailed up to the youth's face, taking a pause before continuing.
- "Arden, I hope you know it's inevitable for you to marry Julia."
Those words were echoed by a toneless, calculative tone. His words betrayed his way of being. Calm, collected. His being was centered in family affairs.
- "You are escaping it. You know you can't do anything about it. You may be one in a thousand years, unreachable in strength by many, yet she is a lycanfolk."
- "Father, she is a threat." The youth said, his body calm, yet his gaze drifted away from his fathers. "She started acting forcefully not long after that one incident. I could've bear it before, but now it's dangerous."
- "Son, it's not that bad. Julia has never crossed a line she shouldn't cross. You have to understand that you are engaged to her — It has been so for 5 years now." He took a pause, his fingers trailed off back to his book in a dismissive fashion. "Stop running from her."
- "It's not about running, Father. Everything inside this world guides you towards the final destiny– the cleansing of the soul and the end of memories. I am risking something far greater than what a mortal is allowed to risk."
"How can an entity like me, so intertwined by the shadow of carnal limits, be exposed to such a being that can grant permanence and force you into eternal servitude? She can control souls, father."
- "You have no other way, Arden. She has no growth limitations. The world has been acting up recently, and she is a necessary anchor for the family."
[~]
Looking at my father, I remembered those glimmering pink eyes, adorned by a face of complete beauty, yet deformed to that of a demon by a needy, sinister and lustful expression.
Her hands, covered by the blood of my kin, reached up to me and grabbed me forcefully, tainting my white attire with darkness, as if she had corrupted me.
She pulled herself closer to my face, with an expression full of delight and longing, as if she had finally found what she has been looking for ages.
My silent pride, my strength. It was all taken away from me in a single kiss. I was never before so conscious of my limits — so burdened by the shadow of what I am. A simple human, dealing with such beings.
- "She is too much to handle." My voice drifted, knowing I wasn't going to be heard by my father. My tone remained firm, yet it lacked intention, as I knew he wasn't going to listen
Sometimes, I wonder if something could've been different. If she was a human being, between my scope. Something I could control — something that couldn't just turn around and kill me, nor turn my life around.
- "So, what are you going to do?"
His voice pushed me away from my thoughts in a matter of seconds. I responded easily, with an assertive undertone.
- "I'm going to drag it out for a few months, and try to figure out possible solutions."
- "It is not going to work, Arden. I'll give you these months, though, as for not much can go wrong."
- "Thank you, father. I'll take my leave now."
[~]
The young man stepped off, wandering towards his room.
Making his way, he trailed alongside the main hallways of his family's manor. Expensive furniture mixed with immaculate portraits of previous family members gave off an impression of generational wealth.
The portraits were crafted by the finest of hands, encompassed by expensive frames. They all presented blonde people with red eyes — eyes so captivating that they could peel a human from his inhibitions, directly speaking to the soul.
- "Brother?" A voice spoke, distant, a clear mirror of the father of the family.
Jane, the oldest sister and the next heir of the family stopped Arden dead in his tracks. He squinted ever so little, looking at her with slight waryness.
- "Yes?"
- "Marry her".
Arden immediately turned around, walking away from her.
- With his back turned, he spoke, his stroll as steady as ever. "Sister, whoever made you believe you could speak to me was in the wrong."
- She started moving towards Arden, following him behind his tracks "You know, Gramps is going to make a ton of money out of that marriage. You got to take a hit for the family."
Her voice was icy, her eyes locked into the neck of the youth. She made you feel like a pawn, trapped between her games.
- "You seem to really like grandpa. Why don't you marry him, so you can wallow between his arms all you want. Leave me alone for once."
As she tried to gather herself to answer, I just kept on walking, opening the door of my room and shutting it close.