𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐄 ✓

14: THE LAST MAN

Temptation: the subversive result of a lie, ceaselessly nudging you towards its snare, making you commit the unthinkable.

You spot an unclaimed dollar gleaming on the sidewalk. You seize the opportunity, subtly securing it within your pocket. This, my friend, represents the guile of temptation.

Temptation. A plate of your favourite delicacy decorated right beneath your nose; you sneak a peek, pop a few in your mouth, quickly rearranging those back to avoid detection: Temptation.

You fall in love. You know they won't ever be what you deserve, but you cannot stop temptation.

Overwhelmed with rage, your fury simmers, seething over the wrongs you've endured, no kindness returned, tempted, you let the blade held in your hand glide across the surface of their throat, cutting through the skin, slicing open the cartilaginous rings: Temptation.

Temptation offers no healing—only the illusion of comfort and relief.
Never had temptation been a family, nor had it been a friend.

__

She stood afar, her hands gripped onto the bow without letting her faith tremble. She pulled the bowstring, the arrow aimed right at the mortal's heart, and she let it fling and pierce and bleed: temptation.

"Geisha! How dare you?"

Frustration and anger, seemingly bundled up, seething and screeching. The Almighty shot back at the Queen of Jaishi, the ruler, the mother of envy.

But she was left unperturbed, her eyes still red.

"He deserved it, Almighty! He deserved to die, for he was saved from all the worries when each of us faced agonies and unending harassment! He got a boon for a broken heart, and we were left astray? Why Almighty? Why didn't he pass the cycle like any other Pirropian, but rather threw away his feelings and touched eternity? Why?"

When it comes to life, we spin our own yarn, and where we end up is really, in fact, where we always intended to be. Sometimes life has a cruel sense of humour, giving you the thing you always wanted at the worst time possible.

"You are keeping the name you gave birth to Envy! Why? Envious because your father chose my mother and not you? Envious because Kwan couldn't feel, and you had to? Envious because your child couldn't rule the constellation?"

All the hold on the Almighty trembled, and he broke into a fit of words, a fit of reality to break the built-up tempting lies. Perhaps we all have room for those deep in our hearts.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of the castle, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen, yet this castle was undoubtedly unique. Within its stone walls, it held a story like no other in the realm of Pirropi.
But again, this was the only place in the history of Pirropi to show, to behold, enormous lies, errors, truths, and mysteries.

Sighing in an audible octave, Geisha looked up, eyeing the man with a hint of care, "Your father made me envy, Almighty. And what is there to be ashamed of? Did you think feelings are easy? To feel, to hurt, to love?
I loved him for everything he had, not because he would rule Pirropi. But it took just a barrier to remove me from his life, for a fae and a mortal would make a sin, not love.
How could I not feel how happy my own sister was with the man I fell for? You think that was an easy dice to throw, to roll a six and thrice in a row and lose everything that ever made an existence.
I envied my own sister until she died, and even after, I kept lying to myself that it was okay, but was it? To envy the one, I brought up as my daughter?"

There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds. The au pair gazed at each other with remorse, with guilt, with unsaid attachment.

"You are like my son... You don't have any idea what this envy made me do. Fae- Almighty, you shall never know. If I couldn't feel like that mortal, I wouldn't have turned into this. I wouldn't have hurt people, wouldn't have blamed innocents, wouldn't have aban-"

"You abandoned your son, right Aunt Geisha?"

The Almighty for a reason; he knew everything, and his father hadn't shaded even a tiny bit of the howling history that had a lot to do with the future of Pirropi.

"My son?"

Her trembling satire held a choked breath locked beneath the cacophonous revelation, that memories die-hard and these were about her own son.

"And the one who gave that soul life, you put all your envy in a bag, tied it up and flung it across the man's heart. You tried to kill him who saved Hyon, your son whom you left at the door of his doom... Your envy made you blind, you envied a soul who had to pass through it all alone."

...

That's the thing about depression: a human being can survive almost anything as long as she sees the end in sight. But depression is so insidious, and it compounds daily, that it's impossible to ever see the end.

The void had spread miles until that arrow pierced his heart, leaving Kwan astounded. With each tearing part of the fibre, he felt a little more. For one, he felt relief. For two, the pain pinched in. For three, he gasped as the pain doubled its spree. For four, he knew he would be free. A smile was all that spread atop his lips. With the fifth and sixth tears, he felt sad; he would have to leave the little family behind. With the seventh, he lay low in the arms of the consul, Jeong.

Geisha had stung upon her open wound, and it did hurt a lot. The guilt and the remorse had her encased, but all the while she had her sobbing son by her side.

Hyon, for his heart, was lost, his dearest brother was on deathbed, maybe soon shall close his eyes. But what could he do? His spells didn't work, nor did his love.

The Almighty stood by the injured man, contemplating his words and his decisions. Would they be safe if he hadn't called for the two? Would they be safe? Would they be alive? Would they be happy?

The castle was storming with skepticism and cynicism. No magic in action, no potent potions, no complex rituals. All the magic the royal doctors tried fell on deaf ears; none worked; no love, no fantasy.

Perhaps, we all have few guilts and fewer priorities tumbling in our lives, for reality is way too harsh.

For death was always celebrated in a beautiful way, with each tear shed comforting the deceased soul, lifting them from their sorrows, and feeling.

Hyon lay softly over the mattress, eyeing the unfolding serenity right above his head. He had always dreamt of a death this peaceful, with his loved ones shedding tears, with him feeling free. He glanced around him in satisfaction. He had achieved it all. But love was still too far.

Yet, he was content, so he did close his eyes, with tunes of sobs and with the love astray, he felt he was ready to fly.

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