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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