Under the Peaceful World.
Evil depends on the eyes of the beholder. If he is judged rightly for the things that he does; can he be called truly evil? Can those who were judged as evil by the world truly evil?
Ashia asked that. The boiling world. The heat of the forge of the underworld seems like it would permeate her skin. The truth was better to be told without the layers of a lie it hides from.
“Lady Ashia,” said a voice. “You returned to the underworld. It seems that you have not forgotten this old man. Truly, your heart is too kind to see this old man out.”
“How are they?”
“Imprisoned. For they are now chained upon the earth whence they came from. Their minds forever linked until they are sent peacefully to the next life.”
The war took all of Ashia’s effort. Hundred years of fighting for the sake of a world that did not want to save itself. There must be more to this world! There must be more to this life!
Images overlapped of a woman screaming at the top of her lungs. The memories were that of a woman ran through crowds upon crowds of demons. Her empty eyes. Her gore-coated sword that seems to have lost all luster. Always all alone in a hill of swords chasing after someone whose back seems so distant.
Who are you? Said the Voice in every meeting.
There was a pain in the heart of every meeting. No, she recalled a lovely dance. A charge at a Goddess and awakening in worlds upon worlds. Worlds upon worlds where she was not chosen by the light. Worlds where only the pale shine of hers shone the dark.
But the hero within her could not be silent. Not when those who could not help themselves call for her help. Not when they would cling to her thighs for salvation. She did not understand why she was sent to such places, but she sought meaning to all those suffering, hoping for a respite in a world that used her. On her journeys, she met three women who she never met before.
Lady Decima, Lady Aisa, and Lady Nona gathered around a dancing fire. Lady Decima wore a headdress, clothed in white. Lady Aisa wore a blue gown with a headdress. Lady Nona wore a fierce red robe along with a headdress. The three of them observed the fire that danced in front of them. They looked up at Ashia or to the woman in her memories with weary smiles and frowning faces.
O woman abandoned by time, Cursed Woman, Walker of Bleak, and the one that lost her way. You will not find your hope here. Not until the dragon of time and the Bleak Walker accepts their peace. Do not forget the child drowned in the well. Do not tarry. Find the Obsidian Demon and embrace her and become one. For she will be one with you and guide you to your peace. Until the day you’ve forgiven the loss of the child.
The three women of fates disappeared. All that was left was an empty campfire. Ashia didn’t know what happened. She saw nothing more than memories of a woman who travel the lands. Desperately looking for a pale shine of light that would save her from despair.
Sometimes this woman wonders where she came from. Why she was walking the land. Then she met a demon who had the same goal and yet without names they chose to be one. For what purpose? Both of them had forgotten in the recesses of time. Even souls get tired and there were too many worlds. So many despairing people who wanted to be helped. People that clung to her while hating the world.
WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME!
The woman shouted upon a crooked hill. Two voices overlapped as she brought ruin upon demon-infested lands with her rage. Then she saw an escape to her life. She wanted to forget. She wanted to run away from time. For she had not consumed a time wraith that her memories started to deteriorate. So many memories became blurred. Time and time again she started asking who she was until she woke up with crumbling remnants. A world where she had lived a happy life. A world she was allowed to have what she called a family. Then she saw encroaching darkness that threatens the happy world. She acted and created upon a spell that would punish those who are wicked and send monsters back to their home. If it weren’t for the goodness of her students. Such underworld would have been a place of torment. But instead, it was a world where the wicked sleep. Those who could not be salvaged were thrown into the pits where they are sent to the next life.
“Are they in pain?” Ashia asked. The cocoons stored those who were called the wicked.
“This is the best of mercy. For the things that they had done? They should be placed in hells. But that is this humbleness’s opinion.”
“I know what you mean. But we must keep this peace. Are the seals ready? No, are you ready, friend?”
“What is the point of immortality if I could not have any purpose?” he asked. “I’ve lived a long life and I belong here. I am lost and that I shall take this role.”
“You are not lost.”
“I am already. But you, Lady Ashia. You must learn that you have done your mercy. Some fought for their land are rested here, but for the sake of peace and yours. You must learn to forgive yourself. You have done your best, Milady. Now, I am happy that you have not forgotten this old man. Goodbye.”
Ashia left the underworld. The holes that connect them gone from the world. She held her head and took a step that carried her back into the island’s shrine. Dalia stared blankly at her. A bottle of wine floated and landed in front of her. Dalia nodded her head. Ashia sat cross-legged and pulled the cork. She sat silently drinking while the dragon watched her.
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