'You can never truly have the happiest ending, only a happy ending'
Everyone adores the classic childhood dream of '...and they lived happily ever after'
The tales of a brave, dashing hero that hailed from a distant kingdom. Armed with nothing but his shiny sword and unwavering courage that could rival a thousand men.
He took a treacherous journey to slay the fearsome dragon that terrorizes the land. Rescuing a delicate, breathtakingly beautiful princess that was locked away in a towering, enchanted castle guarded by the ferocious beast.
Falling helplessly in love at first sight, they kiss under the stars. The hero then returns triumphantly with the princess, where they marry in the grandest chapel adorned with flowers that bloomed in eternal spring. And with a kiss under the sunset, they seal their vows.
If only such fantasies existed in this damned reality that people of this world lived in, where happy endings are nothing short of a myth.
History books contain all the gold and glory of a nation, but never the hardships that people have undergone through, the sacrifices that were taken, and the bloodshed that occurred for victory.
They fail to mention the realities of life in the shadows, behind the bright and blinding light were the dark and grim realities people had to live through.
Thousands of masses die of hunger and thirst after suffering years of malnutrition and unknown illnesses under the burning sunlight.
People, regardless of gender, age, or status, have been enslaved, tortured, and experimented on until their dying breath. If history books were already too gruesome for you, well, you were still missing out.
These represent merely a fraction of the unspeakable things humanity has undergone. And the funny thing is, they were the ones doing it too.
Those with power decide the fate of thousands with a single decision made on a whim.
Being handed plump fruits while sitting comfortably on their thrones, guarded by skilled knights in an impenetrable fortress are those who orchestrated such tragedies. They have asserted their dominance through means of force and violence. Through bloodshed, murder, and massacre.
Meanwhile, those caught up in the storm, whether innocent or guilty, suffer from the decisions these people make.
But humanity can only tolerate for so long. It is only human nature to adapt, defend, retaliate, and survive. The helpless will not stay down forever, but they must first realize that they indeed are helpless.
But how do we rid the world of such tyranny, conduced by beings of power accumulated and intellect cultivated over the years of hoarding? When they constantly trample on the weak through their calculated tactics to do whatever they please? The enemy is too great for average mortals through the years to even have a fighting change.
To accept the circumstances is the first step to solving any problem after all. An unsolvable problem is not even known to be one in the first place, so why give up before starting?
An uncrowned king, his era long gone, once said "In order for a mediocre man to defeat a genius, he must become a monster"
As if finally hearing the directionless prayers of those suffering, a curious boy who, through his pain and unwavering will to defy reality itself, sought out to uncover the secrets of this seemingly unsolvable world.
He was blessed into the life of a married couple who has tried to procreate for years. Overjoyed from his birth, they grew closer than ever as a family.
When his father was sixteen, he had earned his own power as everyone else had during his age.
His power was dubbed as The Voice of Society, where he was able to hear everything a human would say as long as it involved him or his name.
As time passed however, it developed from a coveted power to a curse.
Hidden malice and ulterior motives would easily be discovered. Slander from the people he trusted would be mixed in with the curses from those who deeply hated him.
The human mind is miraculous, but it could only handle so much.
Eventually, his mentality wore down, setting himself boundaries from everyone, even those who approach with the sincerest of intentions.
There was one person however that he still believed in, a woman who adhered to her familial and spiritual based virtues, beloved by all those she met.
The two started a relationship full of purity, soon enough ending up vowing to each other before the altar. A man of many secrets who bears a frozen heart and a woman who'd warmly open her arms up to anybody.
Together, they managed to go beyond what everyone once thought to be the boundary of what they can and can't do, and transcended expectations time and time again.
Together, they were better, they were stronger, they were complete.
But this world wasn't a fantasy, it was reality.
His wife would soon fall victim to a curse, one which no one knew the cause or cure of. A prison of ice, freezing her in place, uncertain whether she's still conscious or alive.
Was she still there? Still living every second in the darkness, wondering what was happening?
Was she trapped in her mind thinking of her family, still thinking of him?
The sudden silence from the voice he wanted to hear from the most took a toll on him. All that was left were the disgusting thoughts that others had of him, the envious and disgusting thoughts society had of him.
He began delving into arts unknown, arts prohibited, ones that were dark in nature.
It twisted him, his virtues and morals wavered. Soon enough, he became a fragment of the man he once was.
His own child, once the symbol of his love for his wife, would now become the vessel to bear the hatred he had for the unfairness of the world. The verbal abuse and domestic beatings he had done had only worsened with time.
Soon enough, the townsfolk began to notice the odd behavior. They called him insane, a lunatic, someone who was only a fraction of the great wise sage he was.
What should have been a wake up call for him had only worsened his state of mind however, further submerging him in the sea of insanity.
He looked at himself in the shattered mirror, his disheveled and dirty look made him him laugh.
Laugh at his life, his circumstances, how he had fallen from the man he once was, how his wife had been inflicted with a curse no one knows of, and how his child who would once come running to him with a smile now trembles at the sound of his footsteps.
There was no bruise or blood that could satisfy his lust for pain and suffering, he wanted the world to feel even a fraction of the pain he had to endure every single day.
Meanwhile, his son would take over the research he had left behind, only expanding further as he continued on reading about the various complex topics.
Rarely, he would see kids of his age play nearby. He would envision himself alongside them, but never would he go outside. He would only live his ideal childhood in his mind as he continued on researching.
At times he would read other books about the world so he knew where he would go with his family once it was all over.
About the dangerous animals that roam the lands so he knew how to deal with them. About the viruses and illnesses that plague the world so he knew what to do when they get infected.
All so that when they see him expertly navigating them to their navigation, help get rid of their sickness, or maybe correctly identify a wild animal, his mother would pat him in the head and compliment him.
But there was no happily ever after.
He grew accustomed to the lonely world that was filled with knowledge with no end in sight.
Trial after trial, he would end up failing to get a result that would help his goal, the ice his mother was trapped in has not melted from the hottest flame he could produce, not would it break from the intense pressure he would put it through.
He took a look at his mother trapped in ice, she looked the same as she did the first time she saw her in that icy prison. Her expression was peaceful, eyes closed as if she was just sleeping while standing up.
It was off, the posture she took. It looked as if she was flying, hovering above the ground. It was always a mystery that stuck in the back of his mind while he was researching.
His view then changed to his own reflection. He fixed his messy red hair, something he hasn't done for a long time.
I should at least look presentable
He thought to himself, he wouldn't want to be scolded by his mother for his behavior after all.
He found himself laughing at the thought of her getting mad at him. Not because she hated him, but because she cared for him.
Woosh!
The curtains blew open. They were unable to conceal the immense wrath of the incoming storm, demanding to be feared for its monstrous strength.
He quickly went to close the windows before the storm blew away his papers. He heard the rhythmic pouring of the rain with the strange lull of the scenery outside, but something felt off. Something felt out of place, like an uncut weed in a mowed lawn.
Then it clicked. It was the heavy, wet, footsteps that slowly approached the front door.
Bam!
The door smashed wide open, revealing the dark silhouette of his father wearing the look that he had feared for so long.
He quickly tried to hide the research wherever he could. His father held a deep hatred for anything that would help him lift the curse, as it reminded him of how he had failed to lift the curse.
That day, his father's eyes looked different. It wasn't the usual look of distain that he had. He was muttering words, words that drowned out in the loud sounds of the storm.
The father quickly went towards his son, grabbing his son and shoving down his throat an unknown bottle of liquid. It had a deep shade of rich violet, one with a horrible flavor.
His son panicked, quickly becoming drowsy as the liquid continued flowing down. In the end, he found himself being carried by his father. His eyes closed as his father carried him into the night.