Chapter 93: c18 continuation

“The truth, Xerxez, is that the Phoenix’s curse was not from the Phoenix’s anger, but created by the Crux and the Cypriox government. And because our elders were too afraid to challenge Cypriox or the Crux, they wrote in our history that:

(’Because of the Vrupercans’ involvement, the Phoenix became angry and cursed the entire Vrupercan lineage.’)

“Father Coventher, a very wise man, saw how the leaders of Cypriox used the power of the Crux to curse both the Phoenix and the Vrupercan blood. That’s why I told you to use the name Thallerion, not Peronica. Coventher was the one who created and performed the Crux ritual that trapped the Phoenix.”

“But then, we heard that he had created a powerful machine. Because of this, he was hunted down, dragged to Cypriox’s dungeons, and nailed to his death.”

Sentheria stopped as Xerxez interrupted. “Did you say a mechanism… made by that priest?” Xerxez’s mind raced, remembering something he had seen as a child—an object by a stream that looked similar to the technology in his dreams.

“Yes, it’s true,” Sentheria confirmed sadly. “I was helping him gather stones from distant islands… you know I love old knowledge. Even though he was younger than me, he was incredibly smart. We went to Scarlet Mist Island, where the legendary Phoenix Flower grew. I never thought then that it would become Coventher’s tool, the source of the Phoenix’s curse, unleashed through the flower and the immense power of the Crux.”

“What was confusing was that it wasn’t just magic; it was a science only Coventher understood. The arrogant councils who pretended to be wise studied his formulas, combining them with the power of the Crux to find the hidden truth.”

“They forced Coventher to perform the ritual, which weakened the Vrupercan and made the Phoenix disappear. But our clan’s ancient wisdom told of a secret: the two entities and their chosen people had made a pact. Then, they forced Coventher to silence him and his knowledge forever.”

“Now, the people have forgotten what the Vrupercan went through. So they are now persecuting Coventher, calling his brilliant inventions forbidden magic and a crime against the Crux. I don’t know why Coventher created these things, but I know he was a brilliant man who always cared about the well-being of many people.

“We must rescue Coventher. Only then can the curse on our clan be broken. Only then will our ability to be reborn be restored. But we can’t promise we’ll succeed.”

“Does that mean… Perlend will live again?” Xerxez asked, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

After several hours of flight, the Aopudes were approaching Thallerion with Xerxez. In the distance, the light had faded. The light’s impact on the sky was over. But to Xerxez’s question, if Perlend could still live, Sentheria’s only answer was:

“I cannot guarantee an answer about Perlend to you, Xerxez. I apologize because there is no way for anyone who experiences the curse to bring back the power of reincarnation.” Xerxez fell silent and clutched his heart as if it was painful to accept that there was no hope of bringing Perlend back to life.

“Even if the phoenix returns through Pyramus, Perlend’s life cannot be brought back because she has already died, she no longer has the ability of the phoenix. What I mean is, she became human after she died.”

“I’m sorry, Xerxez, but that is the truth.” They had arrived at Thallerion. In front of the Betelgeuse palace, Matheros immediately greeted Xerxez’s arrival. The council members were there and were amazed by the winged Aopudes.

“Elder Sentheria, thank you for bringing Xerxez to the Thallerion palace,” Matheros said. The people learned that Xerxez’s wife had phoenix blood, and they were happy at the thought that Thallerion now had a phoenix lineage. However, they were saddened to learn that Perlend had died due to the Phoenix curse. Sentheria and the others did not wait for a few minutes of conversation; they immediately left to continue to Cypriox.

Xerxez silently returned to their room, as if his memories were haunting him, and when he saw Perlend’s altar, his blood suddenly screamed with rage. He threw the statue of the phoenix. “Why?” Xerxez’s heart cried out. The glass of the framed painting of the phoenix flower shattered. The candles were like dead frogs at Xerxez’s feet. Xerxez clenched his fists. He had witnessed his parents’ death at the hands of King Hedromus, an Ursa fire beast, and now he had witnessed his wife’s death from the Phoenix curse.

It was as if the entities were conspiring to destroy his life. ’What have I done wrong to the entities?’ Xerxez thought to himself. Xerxez got drunk that night, drowning himself in red wine. Matheros visited him after he had gone wild in the room.

“Enough, Xerxez. There’s nothing more we can do about Perlend’s fate.” Matheros struggled to pry the wine bottles from Xerxez’s grasp. But Xerxez merely sobbed uncontrollably before him, their brotherhood evident in the raw grief. Matheros saw Perlend’s altar, completely destroyed and scattered across the floor.

“Am I not worthy of happiness?” He chuckled, tears streaming down his face as he faced Matheros. “They even refuse to give me my own child. Am I truly such a worthless father?”

“That’s not it, you’re mistaken… Xerxez, I know from the depths of your heart that you love your family dearly. What they did was only to spare you from further suffering.”

“Suffering?” Xerxez froze, his mind reeling at the word. “They’ve made me suffer even more.”

“I understand, but you told me, didn’t you? They promised to give you Pyramus after six months,” Matheros replied, trying his best to comfort Xerxez.

The moment Matheros left, Xerxez was enveloped in a profound silence. In that stillness, amidst the cold gaze fixed upon the shattered altars, a strange idea suddenly took hold: the dagger in the chest of his room. Xerxez took hesitant steps, his mind clouded with malice, fueled by rage, sorrow, and despair.

His feet carried him to the old, dust-laden box. Slowly, his trembling fingers gripped the latch. “Why should I regret it anymore? My life is already shattered beyond repair.” He opened the box, a fleeting sense of relief crossing his face, yet his gaze into its contents remained heavy with sadness. The dagger gleamed.

His fingers, still trembling incessantly, reached for the dagger’s hilt. He gripped it with the tenacity of a gecko, his hold unyielding. He stared at the blade, which shimmered sharply. With both hands, he pointed it at his stomach. “They’re all dead!” Tears streamed from his eyes. “It’s better… it’s better… for me to disappear from this world!” He summoned all his strength, intending to plunge the dagger into his own stomach.

*Whack!!

But then, an energy pulsed from the dagger, drawing him in.

BLINK!!!

Xerxez vanished.

“Xerxez!” A voice pierced through his slumber, jolting him awake. His hand flew to his stomach, a sudden jolt of memory reminding him of his near-fatal act, and the strange energy that had consumed him. Now, he found himself in an unfamiliar place, his vision blinded by an intense, dazzling light. He desperately searched for the dagger, but there was nothing but the all-encompassing white glow.

“Am I dead?” His voice echoed in the ethereal space as he struggled to grasp at the light around him.

“Xerxez,” the familiar voice called again. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard this man’s voice, yet no matter how hard he strained his eyes, he couldn’t discern the speaker’s face.

“Who are you? Your voice… it is known to me, yet not the ancient tone of my grandfather.” Xerxez heard the very breath of the spectral entity, a living sound in the ethereal realm. “Am I dreaming?”

“It is time for you to rise,” the figure advanced, a silhouette against the relentless glare, its features still obscured, a phantom woven from pure light. “You are not dreaming, you just drunk thinking that this place was a mere illusion.”

“Why do you forever dog my steps?” Xerxez’s voice, though a mere whisper in the vastness of his mind, was an accusation, laced with a raw, primal anguish. He fought desperately to quell the tempest within, to dispel the mental intoxication that chained him.

“I know every single thing in your life…your fury… your sorrow… your despair… your pain—”

“Enough!” Xerxez roared, his voice a lion’s guttural protest, a sound that ripped through the very fabric of this unknown landscape. “Your words are a torrent! You claim to know all this, yet why do you offer no aid?”

“Aid?” The figure halted, drawing a deep, resonant breath before dissolving, its shadowy form melting away into the depths of Xerxez’s sight. For a few agonizing seconds, silence reigned, absolute and profound.

Xerxez frantically searched for the vanished entity, but it was gone. Yet, as he willed himself forward in this unknown place, the very dimension around him convulsed and transformed. The blinding light softened, morphing into a gentle mist that slowly, inexorably, began to recede. With each passing second, images flashed before his inner eye—heroic deeds, acts of valor, countless sagas of human courage—until the mist vanished entirely, revealing a serene, hallowed realm. The searing glare was replaced by a dimension crafted from marble, a grand expanse of black and white checkered squares. Statues, like silent, monumental chess pieces, stood sentinel around him.

“A chessboard? What is this place?” Xerxez whispered, his gaze sweeping across the panoramic vista. It was a vast pavilion, seemingly floating in the cosmic void, the immense chessboard at its heart. Comets blazed past, their fiery trails painting streaks across the eternal night, and planets, vast and majestic, hung so close they felt within reach, their light a breathtaking, spiritual tapestry.

As his feet touched the hallowed ground of this new dimension, the last vestiges of his drunken stupor vanished, clarity washing over him like a pure, celestial spring. His mind, now sharp and untainted, flowed like untroubled waters. This was a sacred place, a divine sanctuary Xerxez had never known existed. A colossal energy, primal and profound, emanated from the very core of this realm, drawing him deeper.

“This… this must be a multiverse!” Xerxez breathed, a revelation dawning upon his soul.

“At last, you have teleported in my dimension.” The voice returned, its power undiminished, and Xerxez finally saw him. Far in the distance, upon a magnificent throne adorned with intricate designs of ancient weapons, the figure was seated, kingly and imposing, surrounded by the silent, watchful statues of this chessboard realm.

“Who are you?”

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