Chapter 3: Chapter 2 – Arrival to Arhmanah

IT was strange to feel alive again, and no less as a babe. I didn’t cry very much, but I did often brood and this display of sadness on my part worried the maids. Yet my ennui dissipated from time to time as I gazed at my surroundings.

I was born into a lavish life, one I could scarce think of in my past. A palace seeming almost fit for the highest of the Gods. The interior consisted of many high pillars, sculptures, and grand paintings, all adorned with the imagery of the Gods. Where ever I rested my eyes, it seemed that a gold wash alighted the surface. And the gems, jewelery, and clothing brought wonder to my eyes.

And when I was carried in the arms of another and brought to the balcony of the palace, I could see in the distance a great city filled to the brim with denizens all dressed in an unusual manner. Great structures that numbered in the thousands flew about in the skies. Tall buildings that seemed like temples, all each holding a great bowl blazing with fire. And all of this was surrounded by great plots of farmland that merged into the forests and mountains at the edge of the horizon.

My eyes could behold all even that which was far into the distance. It was unnatural in comparison to myself a lifetime ago. Yet it was indeed the case that the powers waxed strong and perhaps was the reason for such physical might and acuity that a great many individuals possessed in those times.

I have told few others of the nature of the realm that I came from, but it’s best you hear of what was there to better appreciate what it is I experienced. The world from I hailed was one that was drab and dull in comparison. High towers of brick and mortar effaced the surface of the Earth. The vegetation slowly grew scarce, as the rivers and forests became polluted with the muck of the people’s waste. And while places of beauty could be found, appreciation slowly dwindled as the years passed.

Perhaps the situation changed after I expired, but regardless, not a thing that could be found there could hold weight against the things I beheld since my newfound birth.

I learned I had been born a prince, but overhearing the talk of my parents and the various persons in and around the palace, I came to know that our kingdom was not all that large. Not that it much mattered to either the King, my father, or my mother, but it did distress the ministers. They kept their hopes that I’d be able to succeed where my father had failed.

From what little I could make of their speech, I learned that this world was called Arhmanah and that the name of the kingdom I was born into was Koshapa: the Land of the Well-Skilled.

During the nights as my mother suckled me, she would relate stories of what seemed like a bygone era. She must have assumed at the time that I couldn’t understand her.

From her words I learned that the first king of our world, our ancestor, was named Drizhaka. For it was said he arose from the eyelash of his father. And that through him prosperity reigned a thousand-fold for mankind, having brought all of humanity under his fold against a scourge that reigned in the north.

When she referred to the scourge, she indeed meant what you would think. Yes, she referred to the Demons who had inhabited the northern regions of this world. And it seemed that by this point of time, much of the land had been wrested under their control. Many expeditions had been conducted toward the north, yet all resulting in abject defeat.

Never had I thought I would come to a world such as this one. Not only was I to be heir to a king, but it was expected that I would aid in the effort against such beings, whose descriptions brought tremendous fear to me, even with the knowledge I had from my past life concerning them.

Ah, but don’t take it to mean that such beings existed in my world. Or at least at the time that I was living. Much could be said concerning this, but truly, if the Demons as we know them were alive there, then they most certainly existed within the hearts of men. Not least, me.

My occupation at the time was that of a priest. And unlike in this world, many religions co-existed with another but with great tension, especially among those of a zealous nature. The religion I was part of was quite similar to the one we follow. Consisting of a liturgical language eerily similar to the one here and its set of gods who I feel mirror the ones worshiped here. Perhaps indeed the only thing that’s changed are the names.

Now, while I tended to my duties with great attentiveness, I had fallen from my path when unable to control my inhibitions. With my position and by my touch, I had ruined many lives. And the voices of the victims slowly grew until it came to eclipse my very world. A wretch that I was, whose time was soon met.

This self-abasement of mine wouldn’t disappear for some time, and whenever I listened to the magnificent stories my mother related, the awe would slowly be replaced by sadness and fear at what I could become.

Why was I given such a position? Bathed in such luxury and with such expectations, when it was known by even the Creator that I was a failure through and through. No answer came to me.

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