The Lord is the One

Prologue

They had been climbing the cliff for days now. The fire of life within them was fading, their hands covered with scars and dried blood. One of them looked down. A chasm, drowning in fog. A moment's inattention, a single mistake could cost them their lives. But they had no strength left. He looked at his friend, whose face, despite his exhaustion, was serious and determined. He smiled weakly at him. The stones dug into his hands, cutting, stinging mercilessly. The cold was the most bothersome, up here. However, they were close, and they refused to give up. Both faces were immeasurably pale, frozen in an expression of exhaustion. They wore light but warm scouting clothes. Provisions and clean water had long since run out, despite their meager rations. Suddenly, tears welled in the younger man's eyes.

"Brother... forgive me. I have no strength left. I apologize if I've been a burden to you."

The second traveler froze, his face filled with terror.

"No! Don't give up... we're both weak, but the road to the summit is not far... I beg you, don't do this to me..."

He too began to cry. It had been a long time since he'd expressed his feelings this way. He had always been the more responsible, serious, and cold one. But he loved his brother. They continued on, and the tears they had wiped away mingled with blood. Finally, after so many days, they felt the wind. A magnificent force, now gently blowing, ruffled their hair. Hope, elusive before, appeared. They steeled themselves and continued climbing, climbing faster. Across the vast sky, white, light giants moved. These clouds formed various images, trapping the sun's rays behind them. The wind also brought with it the delicate scent of flowers that probably grew at the summit. They kept getting closer. It's a wonderful yet tragic feeling when everything changes in one, intangible moment. The passing seconds bring with them thousands of events. Thousands of emotions, thousands of heartbeats. And in such a short time, our entire lives can change. One wrong move, one lump of rock becoming a mighty and gigantic mountain. And one death, the loss of meaning. Screaming and despair will not undo what happened. The elderly traveler watched helplessly as his beloved brother fell into the abyss, drowning in the fog.

Despair. Then nothing matters anymore, divisions don't matter. The rest of the world doesn't matter, seconds don't matter. Power doesn't matter... Everything happens as nothing but time. Sometimes tears can't describe it, nor any earthly words we know. The greatest bards wouldn't be able to cope with this task, to describe despair adequately. The heart sinks, everything seems distant and unknown. We can't even cope with such a difficult task ourselves. But after a while, we have to return to time, reality, and life. It's worse if we no longer possess the will to live. Suicide. A being without the will to live cannot exist. It's weakness. It's not important. The moment counts, what matters now...

He jumped. Is the goal important? We live and die. In our self-absorption and need to survive, we don't see the truth. And it's close, waiting for us to discover it. As he flew, he finally understood everything. The goal? No goal. Meaning? No meaning. And destiny?

He felt claws pierce his arm. He was alive again. No, he was still alive. He didn't want this, he despised it. He fainted.

The griffin and its rider caught him, saving him. He returned to the chain of energy. When he awoke, they were still flying, but lower. He felt again. He began to cry, bitter tears falling from high above to the ground. Now he truly knew what had happened. Soon after, they landed. The rider turned out to be a dwarf, who, dismounting his beast, attended to his guest. He led him to the hut and put him to bed. "Tomorrow is a hard day," he thought.

When the traveler awoke, it was already morning. The dwarf was sitting at the table, preparing food for them both. He was surprised that the traveler didn't ask any questions. He seemed calm. This made the old warrior slightly uncomfortable. He placed cold chicken on his plate, several thick slices of bread, equally thickly buttered, and poured red wine into a simple wooden goblet. When the young man had eaten, he thanked him and said to the dwarf,

"I am grateful for your help. However, I will not abuse your hospitality and will continue on my journey.

" "But... you haven't recovered yet... besides, where do you want to go?

" "I can manage." He pondered the second question and became serious. "Is the goal important? I don't have one. I am free..."

Act One

A lone figure froze, sitting on a huge boulder. The large, glowing moon soothed the traveler's soul. He was also intrigued by a strange phenomenon taking place in the sky. In addition to the stars, clouds, visible in such a strong light, appeared in the sky. A purple and pink glow fell upon the sky giant. It was a beautiful, peaceful night, possessing something of the majestic charm of these lands. For the first time in many days, a faint smile of satisfaction appeared on the traveler's face. Nearby tribes believed that strange, yet wonderful, things often happened on such nights. Less optimistic ones claimed that blood was being spilled somewhere. A

chill emanated from the traveler. He continued to gaze at the shimmering sky giant, the patron saint of all people. The anxiety that haunted him daily vanished, and his body and soul found a moment of solace. Peacefully, free from the nightmares that had haunted him since the accident, he fell asleep. In the distance, he could hear the howling of wolves. One of them approached the young man, gazing at him for a moment—as if probing, peering into the deepest recesses of his thoughts and feelings—and lay down beside him, tucking his tail between his legs. The proud animal also gazed into the light, then departed. Still, from above, it watched over the sleeping traveler, detecting pure goodness in him.

Nature can be so beautiful. Creatures fail to notice its accessibility, proximity, and charm. Every grain of sand, every leaf from a tree. It enchants us with its simplicity. What could be more ordinary than living among it? Feeding on its fruits, utilizing its land and trees. Calling it home? However, the creature neither respects nor loves its mother. It isolates itself. It built a wall between itself and its mother. It felt uneasy within her. Ultimately, it treated her as an enemy and began to destroy. Its dark sides terrify us. This is our only, true home, from which we constantly flee. But do we realize what we will do when it's gone?

Every sunrise and sunset brings something new.

He opened his eyes and was struck by sunlight. It reflected off the snow, intensifying its power. He stood up and walked to the crystal-clear spring. He splashed his face and wet his hair. It wasn't too cold; even the usually icy wind was resting today. His neck-length hair fell freely over his eyes. It was raven black. His green eyes were watching a pair of birds drinking from the stream. Despite the peace and sheer beauty of the valley, the traveler had no intention of staying here any longer. He looked around again. He was certain of it: early spring was coming. Here and there, delicate white flowers peeked through the white drifts. Tiny green leaves were sprouting on the trees, still covered with frost. Grass was already growing by the roadside, and the stream was flowing into a small depression. He closed his eyes. With a whistling sound, the traveler swiftly extended his delicate blade and, with a deft twisting motion, sliced ​​the arrow in midair. The shooting girl was shocked, but quickly released another arrow. And this time, the target of her attack dodged it. Desperate, she pulled out her scroll and shouted, "Varahis maqshaa!" The flaming ball hit its mark, but the figure was no longer there. The youth in the air could feel her fear. His brown cloak billowed in the wind. He landed right in front of her, grabbed her blouse, and lifted it easily.

"It doesn't matter what you want, just know that I am cursed," he said, his voice almost hideous.

"Don't... kill me... please..." the terrified girl stammered. He didn't meet her eyes. He remained silent.

"I am Karashi... archer, adventurer."

"What have I done to you?" he said again, his voice low.

"For... Halaris hired me. The bandits were enraged that you killed their leader. And I need the money."

He didn't reply. He released her and continued walking.

"Wait! Aren't you interested? He wants to kill you!

" "No. I don't want to kill him. I don't want to kill at all anymore. You can leave... I can handle it."

The girl remained kneeling on the ground and watched the traveler slowly walk away. He stopped and gave her one last look. She was truly beautiful. In the past, he would have been interested. Now he was a different person. However, he couldn't help but think about his feelings. He smiled faintly and then continued walking. Karashi blushed and lowered her gaze. She stared at the silver reflection in the small lake. She struck it angrily, sending up only strong waves. She was disgusted with herself. The young man's sincere words resonated with her. She didn't want to kill anymore. No amount of money was worth living.

The holy souls inspired within us all are magnificent. Pure, yet also empty as a sheet of paper. Does it matter who we are? Beings are different, magnificent in their diversity, yet all are good. Created, flawless. It is the world, our surroundings, that change us so. It forges, like a hammer striking steel. In the same way, this hammer can fill us with love, warmth. On the other hand, our anvil, the world, can defile us. Destroy, create dents in our steel. Hatred arises. Thought obscures feeling. A diamond, within. Coldness, madness? It ravages the mind. For would a saint raise his hand against a brother and kill him? The truth is, we decide fate. Our own, everyone around us. The minds of beings are weak, susceptible to evil. Cursed, tainted, capable of anything, any evil. No being has the right to be completely evil. They simply cannot find themselves...

She ran after him. As she ran, she continued to ponder. He was unique. Neither was she. His coldness repulsed her; she felt the thoughts, feelings, words flowing from his soul. He fascinated her. What was it that she didn't understand? She knew only one thing, and words couldn't describe it.

"Calisto. This... is my true, soul-name," she said to him. "You may be alone, but I will be with you."

He looked at her in surprise. However, he didn't object, and they continued onward, leaving the valley.

Act Two.

In the deep darkness, a delicate, golden-red light seeped through. It pierced the darkness of the massive cavern. It wasn't deep across, but tunnels and corridors stretched within, descending almost to the bowels of the earth. From this, one could tell it was an old cave, as old as these mountains. Two figures, a woman and a man, sat by the fire. They were silent, leaving only the wind rumbling in the treacherous depths of the cavern, the sparkling fire, and the pounding rain outside. After a while, the travelers settled down to sleep.

"I didn't realize your wound was so painful and deep..." the woman whispered, directing her words into the void. "

We've been together for four days now, and I don't even know your name or your destination... you're silent most of the time."

At that moment, the young man winced in his sleep, pain appearing on his usually calm and majestic face. The same nightmare often haunted him. This time, however, was different. After a moment, he began to scream, and the girl became frightened and ran to him. He was burning with fever, shivering with chills. At the same time, his usual nightmare transformed into a strange dream. As he fell into the abyss behind his brother, he suddenly found himself back in the cave where they had spent the night. He heard a rustling sound in the distance, but the fire and his traveling companion were gone. He turned and heard the rustling sound again. He looked back toward the fire and saw an old man sitting against the wall, dressed in navy blue and black robes. On his head was a hat resembling a tiara. He was undoubtedly a wizard. Such individuals could channel the powers flowing through the elements, using them to cast various spells. The young man had heard of many different guilds, each dealing with different aspects of magic. The old man motioned for him to sit down, which he did. He looked at the magician with interest, but the magician simply stared off into the distance. Just as the curious and intrigued young man was about to say something, the wizard spoke up:

"No, this isn't a dream. We're in a place between dreams and reality. I'm just a guest here, because you rule this land. We could also call it a dimension. We wizards call it gúliaun. It's a corner of the soul, as well as the mind, which our class possesses a developed one. We can keep our deepest secrets here, treasure our memories. Or even have spells prepared in this corner of our consciousness. I can't blame you for not controlling this place, because you are only human, after all. I'm interested in how you got here.

" "I... I have no idea... I had a nightmare, and then I found myself here.

" "Hmm... however, I know what's happening. Someone attacked you. Not normally, they tried to infiltrate your brain." However, even the most powerful wizard cannot enter without the key that is your true name, your soul name. I wonder who it is and what he wants from you. He is undoubtedly an amateur. Well, I think it's time for me to go." At that moment, the wizard rose from the floor and dusted off his robe. He also picked up his wand.

"Wait! How did you even get here? And for what purpose?

" "What? You summoned me. You truly do not realize your potential. You must finally decide which caste you will choose. I know you have no purpose in your journey, or rather, you do not want to know it. Every being is subject to certain laws, and if they do not obey them, their existence is lost. Be careful.

The young man immediately jumped up, restless, and once again saw the familiar cave. He glanced around quickly and sank back into his bed, breathing calmly. He couldn't quite figure out what this encounter with the wizard had been, but he couldn't shake the feeling he was telling the truth. He glanced at his companion, who was furious.

"What do you think you're talking about? I was worried about you! Tell me immediately what happened. You had a fever and were delirious!

" "Karashi, calm down," he replied in a subdued, yet surprised voice. "Nothing happened, let's forget about it. Now let's go to sleep.

" "Oh no, you won't get off that easily, my dear. I'm waiting for an explanation.

" "Uh... it's quite a long story," but the girl continued to stare at him stubbornly. "Okay. I think someone has attacked my mind. I also met a certain wizard with whom I had a chat. And it wasn't just an ordinary dream, more like another dimension." At least that's how he explained it to me.

Now she had calmed down and looked at him with concern. "Are you okay?"

"No, everything's fine. Now let's get some sleep. Tomorrow we have another long leg of the journey.

" "And where exactly, 'Mr. Traveler'?"

He didn't answer that question; he went to bed, amused. It was strange, but he hadn't been in such a good mood for a long time. The girl demanded an answer, hitting him with her rolled-up cloak, but he just laughed. After a while, they both lay next to each other, sleeping peacefully. And both smiled in their sleep. Outside, the rain had stopped, and a wolf had settled down at the cave entrance. Looking at the human pair with his wise eyes, he smiled too. He had lain in wait beside them all night, crouched.

Lightning slashed across the dark blue sky. Drops of life-giving water fell slowly into this inhospitable valley. Puddles of dark sand had formed on the floor. Nothing grew here but gray plants, undemanding enough of the climate to survive. Here and there, dry, yellow mounds rose from the earth. And there, below, lay a mortal man. White hair with black streaks, moderately trimmed, fell over a pale, tired face. Ribbons of a similar, slightly grayer color crisscrossed his black, dirty cloak. And next to the body lay two hand blades, claws. Despite the passage of time, the figure remained motionless. The boy was marked with scars, from which burgundy blood flowed.

"B...brother. Where are you?"

After those barely whispered words, he spat out blood. He still didn't move. Everything was starting to come back to him. As he fell, he managed to dig his claws into the rock. He was jolted downward, losing the use of his spine. He managed to bounce back, however, and so, bumping against rocks, he found himself in that valley, nestled in a crevice in the mountain. The fall was still a long one. After a few minutes, he managed to look around. There was no one else here. However, he felt uneasy. With great difficulty, he got up and staggered forward. Suddenly, thousands of memories flashed through his mind; he fell to his knees. Black fog seeped into his chest.

"Nooooo..." he shouted, "why... are you doing this to me..."

"We are one now, Tanzer..."

The boy's eyes flashed white. His hair rose, and he rose, untiring. The wind lifted lumps of sand into the air; the rain stopped. Cloud giants floated across the sky, seemingly observing with quiet fascination and horror all the happenings on this bleak planet. Meanwhile, somewhere far away, a couple set out from the cave. Tanzer smiled grimly and said,

"Time to find our little brother..."