Story: The Void: Part 1

by Nicholas Lemieux



(source: Wiki Commons)
Once upon a time, in a long-forgotten land, there lived a dashing and noble Prince by the name of Yashin, a man who enjoyed the most extravagant of lifestyles. Now Prince Yashin was a man who had everything he had ever wanted in life: a dedicated wife, loving children, an illustrious title, unlimited riches, even the unwavering love of his people. He lived a perfect life yet a small part of him felt empty amidst all this lavishness and desperately yearned for more. Day and night he would ponder about the true meaning of that great mystery known as the universe. He was especially gripped by a legend speaking of a state of existence known only as the Void, a mystical plane attainable only by a few. Those who wished to enter the Void had to give up all their worldly possessions connecting them to reality. Only by doing so could one achieve true enlightenment and become one with the universe and her arcane nature.

Obsessively Prince Yashin longed for this ancient power. In his dedicated quest, painful though it was, he sacrificed everything he held most dear to himself, including his title and his family, in the hopes of severing his connection with the world. For years he travelled around the world, stripping himself of all his possessions until he was left with nothing but his own skin. Finally, after having cast off his entire earthly tether and sacrificed anything that head meaning towards him, he gained the ability to enter the Void and unlocked the secrets of the universe. Enlightenment was his and for the first time in his life, in his new omnipotent nature, Prince Yashin found peace.


Growing up, that was one of the great children’s stories we were raised with. The tale was one told by the elders to simply entertain the little ones with its nonsensical talk of omnipotence. But for the longest time, the story of Prince Yashin and his quest for meaning was one that fascinated me. Admittedly, it concerned me how callously Yashin cast away those closest to him, but this talk of enlightenment spurred on my greatest desires. I was nothing more than a lowly beggar boy at that time, cast out on the streets along with my parents,  and it was my dream to enter the Void and become so much more than that, although I’d made a private vow that if I ever did so I would at least keep my own clothes on. I would be celebrated for generations to come as the man who changed the world, who achieved enlightenment, whose name would be revered for eternity, whose legacy would last until the end of time itself.  My peers would often scoff at me for my ambitions, telling me it was nothing more than a myth and that I’d hardly amount to anything in the end.  But I persevered. Like all great children’s tales, there was truth within the myth of Prince Yashin, and I would stop at nothing to find it.  

Aside from a few minuscule details, I can scarcely remember much from my early years in the village, save for the occasional carefree laughter so many after childhood feel nostalgia for.   Beyond that, my mind remains a blank, at least until that day the Queen’s soldiers arrived. Our little village had been in debt for some time and the Queen sought to make an example of us. I can barely remember what my parents looked like but the silhouette of their burnt corpses violently twitching on the ravaged ground, enveloped by a pool of crimson blood, remains firmly etched within my mind. I can still recall the echoing cries of the hundreds of orphaned children that night, the barbaric laughter of the Queen’s soldiers finding pleasure in this bloody massacre, the night I lost everything.
I tried my best to fight back with a makeshift dagger but I helplessly found myself cornered by two particularly brutish soldiers. Raising their swords, their amber eyes blazed violently, betraying no signs of remorse at all. Instead of simpering like a coward however, I made a resolute stand and roundly fixed my piercing gaze upon them. I stared at death himself right in the face, daring him to blink.

And he did.

With an immediate slashing movement, expertly accomplished within the blink of an eye, the two soldiers were cut down and toppled to the ground, an expression of horror permanently marked on their faces. My saviour, a man in a ragged hood, sheathed his sword and made a hurried motion that we should escape. As we made our way through the mountains, the blazing fire that was now the remnants of my village gradually vanished over the horizon, becoming nothing more than a pitiful red speck of fire.

As soon as we were far enough, the figure removed his hood and formally introduced himself to me. He said his name was Qatal and he was a tall and daunting man with black hair faded with grey streaks, a long black moustache and wild, black eyebrows. He gave me some food and water and expressed his immense sympathy for the destruction that had come to my village. Taking pity on me, and noticing what little I had left, Qatal offered me the chance to turn my life around and potentially make a difference in the world. To say I was confused would be an understatement. I was just a nobody, a woeful runt on the streets who had been recently orphaned. How could I of all people change the world? Still, as Qatal precariously led me through a hidden tunnel carved within the mountains, I had a sense all that would drastically change.

At the end of the tunnel a true shock awaited me. A grand chamber decorated with blinding crystals with countless more hooded figures bustling about. It was the base of an ancient society currently known as the Shadow, a group dating back centuries ago of which Qatal claimed to be the current leader of. The Shadow was based mainly in the mountains and had various sectors established across the world.   Its primary goal was to restore balance to the world and promote freedom for the everyday citizens. Qatal himself had joined after losing his wife to a gang of bandits on the payroll of his nation’s president. He claimed to recognise the loss I was going through and insisted he saw immense potential in me after witnessing my bold stand against the Queen’s guards. Having found peace in fighting for the cause of the Shadow, he proposed that I join the group and live up to my untapped potential.   

As it turned out, Qatal was also a sincere believer in the theory of the Void and all the freedom it promised to mankind. For decades he had embarked on studies on how to enter it and bear witness to the universe’s untold secrets. He had hoped that he would be able to share this knowledge with the rest of humanity to our benefit, but he had ultimately never been able to accomplish it. To that end, he came to a newfound conclusion, one which truly resonated with me that day. Since humanity had first risen out of the waters, we had been enslaved by the entire concept that we needed leaders and governments to thrive. Time and time again, we at the bottom of the pecking order had fallen victim to their power-hungry urges, letting them walk all over us without any protest. The world we lived in now was an amoral one, poisoned by tyrannical queens, moronic presidents, leaders who had no true regard for their people’s safety. Outside of the Void, there was only one way for humanity to completely achieve salvation, and that was by removing the leaders who oppressed them. True freedom could only be achieved when these oppressive governments had been torn down, giving the people the chance to actually live their lives as they wanted.  Through the Shadow, we could destroy the old world order and plant the seeds for the new one to flourish.

In his own words, “new growth could not exist without first the destruction of the old “. It seemed I had finally found my calling.

Fiat justitia  ruat caelum
(Let justice be done though the heavens fall)
-                                                                               A Latin maxim

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