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The Revelation of Aidos Renge
…
In my time, I was fortunate enough to become a legate, the hand of the Holy See. Because of this, I possessed a number of useful skills in the most diverse spheres of activity, be it natural sciences, the art of fencing, or something as complex and inaccessible to the common man as sorcery. I had to track down heretics and ruthlessly destroy them, sometimes along with their entire family, friends, and even neighbors. I have had to blackmail wealthy landowners, business holders, and kings. All so that they would adopt a position favorable to the See, not cooperate with our opponents, and collaborate with us. Through the most brutal torture, I convinced men of science to abandon their research or distort its results in a light favorable to the Enclessian faith. I constantly had to face death, and almost every mission of mine was accompanied by the risk of losing my life, but for me, this became routine and left no mark on my personality. The specifics of my profession developed critical thinking in me and sometimes forced me to reflect on what I was doing and why, whether it was correct from the standpoint of morale and logic, but my faith never wavered, for all these atrocities I committed in the name of the Lord.
Something else entirely made me doubt the truthfulness of what the clergy told me. As befits a righteous Tanarsian man, I started a family by marrying a woman recommended to me by the curator of my assignments. This woman believed in God with all her heart; she never missed a service, thanked Him every day for the life and happiness granted to her, and lived a righteous life. In daily life, she handled any duties expected of a married woman well and sincerely loved her husband—that is, me. Years later, our first child was born. The woman wept tears of joy, but as was the case with her, I felt no emotion toward this offspring.
Life continued its course, and fear began to take root in my heart. What could I have been afraid of then? Perhaps I did not want to die on one of my assignments and leave my family without a father and husband? No, that was not it. I began to fear God and myself. Observing other people, I envied them—they returned to their families with joy on their faces and lightness in their souls; they found pleasure in simple things, but for me, it was not so. Over time, the realization came to me that I experienced pleasure from my work—the hunt for heretics, the adrenaline rushing through my blood, the opportunity to risk my life and play with others' fates… Routine life made me feel sick, as if my soul were slowly withering.
I continued to torment myself with self-analysis day after day and sank deeper and deeper into these reflections. What other people called happiness brought me no joy. What others called sin brought me pleasure. I was horrified—why did the Lord make me this way? I had been His faithful sword throughout my entire conscious life, so why was my perception of the world so distorted? Why was my soul so perverted? But no matter how much I questioned, God never answered me.
The despair born in my heart eventually broke free, and I succumbed to sin. I ruined the lives of innocents, indulged in lust, and appropriated that which did not belong to me. I wanted to know how He would answer this, how He would punish me? But nothing changed in my life. The children of a righteous family living next door died in an accident. As a result, the head of the family became an alcoholic, and his wife committed suicide. At the same time, the well-being of my family was untouched; the domestic comfort I so loathed reigned in the house, my wife was faithful and happy, our child was healthy. How can this be, Lord? Why did misfortune strike people living by Your commandments, while grace did not leave a sinner and his family?
With this, fear left my heart; I continued to live for my own pleasure, committing one sin after another without ever being punished. When the time came to retire and leave the life of a legate in the past, the high clergy appointed me bishop in one of the churches. Isn't that ironic? A man with a soul darker than black was to guide people onto the true path... The high clergy of Tanarsis considered me the right person for this. With this decision, I lost the remnants of my faith.
Using the donations of parishioners, I lined my pockets with others' money. Hiding behind the mask of a priest, I seduced innocent girls who had come in search of God's voice. Entertaining myself, I incited people to commit sins. My hands were steeped in blood, my soul became a reflection of the nocturnal darkness, and my heart burned with a hot, hellish flame. I liked holding others' fates in my hands, breaking people and using them. But no punishment from above ever followed.
I understood, however, that sooner or later my activities would attract the attention of the high clergy and retribution would follow, but I was ready for it. One warm, cloudless summer day, a young legate stepped onto the church threshold—likely my successor. I could not see his face because of the hat on his head, but I identified him by how he carried himself; my vast work experience told me so. Naturally, I did not allow the youth to use the element of surprise and attacked him first. With a single movement of the thin sword in my hand, the young legate's head flew from his shoulders and rolled across the floor. Later, I recognized him as my son and could not stop myself from hysterical laughter. Even in such a situation, I felt no regret and no sympathy whatsoever.
This, however, became a sign for me—I could no longer remain in Tanarsis, so I had to flee. I headed south, where I soon settled in the port city of Aldra. Using my charisma, it was not difficult for me to achieve a high position; the king and his entourage blindly followed the whisper of my lips, and soon I became the indirect ruler of Aldra. By the time the fools from Tanarsis realized what had happened, it was too late. This city became an important point for pirates, large criminal organizations, and many southern countries, and therefore it was not so simple to occupy. After a few years, Tanarsis abandoned its futile attempts, which allowed me to move to the next stage of what I had planned.
The overthrow of Aldra's monarchy and becoming its absolute ruler did not become a difficult task for me. I used this city to preach my own ideals or, more accurately, the lack thereof. Over time, I acquired many loyal followers at my disposal and once again discovered that I like seeing the glimmer of the human soul. Just as it was pleasant for me to observe someone's agony or shock, I also liked seeing the faces of people devoted to me to the depths of their souls. “Pride…”, I thought, and again remembered God, comparing this situation to the relationship between man and the Lord. He is obviously not merciful and not even kind, I decided then. If one believes the holy scripture, God was betrayed by angels, but can this betrayal be considered evil? A man without will is simply a worm.
Pondering questions of existence, I decided to undertake research of the south and set out on a journey. During one such expedition, I happened upon ancient ruins guarded by some titan-like creature. Using the lives of my wives and comrades, I overcame it and gained access to the ruins. Overcoming traps set at every step, I descended to the lowest level and found myself in a strange, spherical room. Various inscriptions were written all around, and to my surprise, I could read them. It was one of the dead languages I had been taught during my training for work as a legate. How? Why? Tanarsis had no connection to this place, and I had not learned anything about it despite my high rank and access to secret data.
Continuing to explore the ruins, I stumbled upon a strange white-purple ball, which later turned out to be an eye with a vertical pupil. Taking it in my hands, I felt a strange desire to use this eye instead of my own, but I restrained myself. Instead, I returned to Aldra and ordered one of my followers to replace his eye with this one. Naturally, the order was carried out, and the result turned out to be somewhat… unexpected. The victim of my despotic order learned to see the future without any effort on his part. This eye was an artifact of unseen power. In the hands of a person endowed with a high level of intelligence and great ambition, it could change the whole world. Coming to this conclusion, I ordered the liquidation of this follower and that the eye be brought back to me. Even the ability to see future events did not allow the man with the Eye of God to escape inevitable death...
A few days later, I received a report from a previously sent reconnaissance squad and learned that the ruins I had explored were not the only ones of their kind. This news forced me to make a final decision regarding this artifact, and I personally sent it to the bottom of the sea (it could not be physically destroyed). Why did I do this? I loathed this gift from God. In my eyes, it was a mockery of human labor, talent, and determination.
I wanted to set out on a journey again, explore other ruins, and destroy the remaining relics of antiquity, but the time allotted to me in this world was coming to an end. I decided to use it to make Aldra what I wanted it to be.
In case anyone in the future, near or far, decides to explore the ancient ruins instead of me, I leave the coordinates on the last page of this book. Their fate is to be decided by the living, not the dead. Who knows, perhaps they will plunge this world into an abyss of chaos and despair, painting it with the colors of blood and pain?
…
In my time, I was fortunate enough to become a legate, the hand of the Holy See. Because of this, I possessed a number of useful skills in the most diverse spheres of activity, be it natural sciences, the art of fencing, or something as complex and inaccessible to the common man as sorcery. I had to track down heretics and ruthlessly destroy them, sometimes along with their entire family, friends, and even neighbors. I have had to blackmail wealthy landowners, business holders, and kings. All so that they would adopt a position favorable to the See, not cooperate with our opponents, and collaborate with us. Through the most brutal torture, I convinced men of science to abandon their research or distort its results in a light favorable to the Enclessian faith. I constantly had to face death, and almost every mission of mine was accompanied by the risk of losing my life, but for me, this became routine and left no mark on my personality. The specifics of my profession developed critical thinking in me and sometimes forced me to reflect on what I was doing and why, whether it was correct from the standpoint of morale and logic, but my faith never wavered, for all these atrocities I committed in the name of the Lord.
Something else entirely made me doubt the truthfulness of what the clergy told me. As befits a righteous Tanarsian man, I started a family by marrying a woman recommended to me by the curator of my assignments. This woman believed in God with all her heart; she never missed a service, thanked Him every day for the life and happiness granted to her, and lived a righteous life. In daily life, she handled any duties expected of a married woman well and sincerely loved her husband—that is, me. Years later, our first child was born. The woman wept tears of joy, but as was the case with her, I felt no emotion toward this offspring.
Life continued its course, and fear began to take root in my heart. What could I have been afraid of then? Perhaps I did not want to die on one of my assignments and leave my family without a father and husband? No, that was not it. I began to fear God and myself. Observing other people, I envied them—they returned to their families with joy on their faces and lightness in their souls; they found pleasure in simple things, but for me, it was not so. Over time, the realization came to me that I experienced pleasure from my work—the hunt for heretics, the adrenaline rushing through my blood, the opportunity to risk my life and play with others' fates… Routine life made me feel sick, as if my soul were slowly withering.
I continued to torment myself with self-analysis day after day and sank deeper and deeper into these reflections. What other people called happiness brought me no joy. What others called sin brought me pleasure. I was horrified—why did the Lord make me this way? I had been His faithful sword throughout my entire conscious life, so why was my perception of the world so distorted? Why was my soul so perverted? But no matter how much I questioned, God never answered me.
The despair born in my heart eventually broke free, and I succumbed to sin. I ruined the lives of innocents, indulged in lust, and appropriated that which did not belong to me. I wanted to know how He would answer this, how He would punish me? But nothing changed in my life. The children of a righteous family living next door died in an accident. As a result, the head of the family became an alcoholic, and his wife committed suicide. At the same time, the well-being of my family was untouched; the domestic comfort I so loathed reigned in the house, my wife was faithful and happy, our child was healthy. How can this be, Lord? Why did misfortune strike people living by Your commandments, while grace did not leave a sinner and his family?
With this, fear left my heart; I continued to live for my own pleasure, committing one sin after another without ever being punished. When the time came to retire and leave the life of a legate in the past, the high clergy appointed me bishop in one of the churches. Isn't that ironic? A man with a soul darker than black was to guide people onto the true path... The high clergy of Tanarsis considered me the right person for this. With this decision, I lost the remnants of my faith.
Using the donations of parishioners, I lined my pockets with others' money. Hiding behind the mask of a priest, I seduced innocent girls who had come in search of God's voice. Entertaining myself, I incited people to commit sins. My hands were steeped in blood, my soul became a reflection of the nocturnal darkness, and my heart burned with a hot, hellish flame. I liked holding others' fates in my hands, breaking people and using them. But no punishment from above ever followed.
I understood, however, that sooner or later my activities would attract the attention of the high clergy and retribution would follow, but I was ready for it. One warm, cloudless summer day, a young legate stepped onto the church threshold—likely my successor. I could not see his face because of the hat on his head, but I identified him by how he carried himself; my vast work experience told me so. Naturally, I did not allow the youth to use the element of surprise and attacked him first. With a single movement of the thin sword in my hand, the young legate's head flew from his shoulders and rolled across the floor. Later, I recognized him as my son and could not stop myself from hysterical laughter. Even in such a situation, I felt no regret and no sympathy whatsoever.
This, however, became a sign for me—I could no longer remain in Tanarsis, so I had to flee. I headed south, where I soon settled in the port city of Aldra. Using my charisma, it was not difficult for me to achieve a high position; the king and his entourage blindly followed the whisper of my lips, and soon I became the indirect ruler of Aldra. By the time the fools from Tanarsis realized what had happened, it was too late. This city became an important point for pirates, large criminal organizations, and many southern countries, and therefore it was not so simple to occupy. After a few years, Tanarsis abandoned its futile attempts, which allowed me to move to the next stage of what I had planned.
The overthrow of Aldra's monarchy and becoming its absolute ruler did not become a difficult task for me. I used this city to preach my own ideals or, more accurately, the lack thereof. Over time, I acquired many loyal followers at my disposal and once again discovered that I like seeing the glimmer of the human soul. Just as it was pleasant for me to observe someone's agony or shock, I also liked seeing the faces of people devoted to me to the depths of their souls. “Pride…”, I thought, and again remembered God, comparing this situation to the relationship between man and the Lord. He is obviously not merciful and not even kind, I decided then. If one believes the holy scripture, God was betrayed by angels, but can this betrayal be considered evil? A man without will is simply a worm.
Pondering questions of existence, I decided to undertake research of the south and set out on a journey. During one such expedition, I happened upon ancient ruins guarded by some titan-like creature. Using the lives of my wives and comrades, I overcame it and gained access to the ruins. Overcoming traps set at every step, I descended to the lowest level and found myself in a strange, spherical room. Various inscriptions were written all around, and to my surprise, I could read them. It was one of the dead languages I had been taught during my training for work as a legate. How? Why? Tanarsis had no connection to this place, and I had not learned anything about it despite my high rank and access to secret data.
Continuing to explore the ruins, I stumbled upon a strange white-purple ball, which later turned out to be an eye with a vertical pupil. Taking it in my hands, I felt a strange desire to use this eye instead of my own, but I restrained myself. Instead, I returned to Aldra and ordered one of my followers to replace his eye with this one. Naturally, the order was carried out, and the result turned out to be somewhat… unexpected. The victim of my despotic order learned to see the future without any effort on his part. This eye was an artifact of unseen power. In the hands of a person endowed with a high level of intelligence and great ambition, it could change the whole world. Coming to this conclusion, I ordered the liquidation of this follower and that the eye be brought back to me. Even the ability to see future events did not allow the man with the Eye of God to escape inevitable death...
A few days later, I received a report from a previously sent reconnaissance squad and learned that the ruins I had explored were not the only ones of their kind. This news forced me to make a final decision regarding this artifact, and I personally sent it to the bottom of the sea (it could not be physically destroyed). Why did I do this? I loathed this gift from God. In my eyes, it was a mockery of human labor, talent, and determination.
I wanted to set out on a journey again, explore other ruins, and destroy the remaining relics of antiquity, but the time allotted to me in this world was coming to an end. I decided to use it to make Aldra what I wanted it to be.
In case anyone in the future, near or far, decides to explore the ancient ruins instead of me, I leave the coordinates on the last page of this book. Their fate is to be decided by the living, not the dead. Who knows, perhaps they will plunge this world into an abyss of chaos and despair, painting it with the colors of blood and pain?