Arubia was a beautiful country, with iridescent flowing rivers, lush greenery, mountains that peaked above the heavens, and citizens who held that beauty sacred within their heart. Birds chirped in cheery song early in the morning, with crows singing the arrival of dusk at night, the sun passing its rightful position to its heir while both celestial bodies crescendoed. All had been well and good in this marvelous place. One would never think to be a place of conflict as even the god who watched over it seemed like a forgiving and benevolent one.

  Once-King Koravar sat under a darkened sky, the memories of its beauty circulating within, while miles upon miles of ash stretched before him. Everywhere he turned, rubble littered the ground. Although the fires have been long gone, the scent of smoke ingrained in his mind and its intense heat prickled his skin.

  Any movement Koravar made was slowed by the ashes and debris. The king knelt and ran his hand through the rubble, scooping some up. What once was a grand palace fit for the highest of civilians, now lay broken and scattered.

  “No,” he whispered. “This wasn’t what was meant to happen.” His stomach twisted at the thought of the suffering. Every time he took a breath, memories surged through him, filling him with hopelessness, despair, pain, anger. The worst part of it wasn’t him living through it all while his people died.

  It was because he’d caused the destruction.

  He clutched the ashes tighter, veins popping out along his forearm. Among the rubble, he saw a familiar face. The face of a girl whose life was taken before it even began, a pristine flower laying beside her, a flower which represented purity, now stained scarlet. The lifeless face of his sister, mixed in with all the others slewn by his fit of rage.

  Everywhere he looked, similar corpses lie along the ground, all incredibly disfigured, either from sword or flame. Regardless of how they died, they all bore the same look of fear and anguish. Some had twisted expressions, while others had faces themselves twisted beyond the point of recognition.

  These people, who once followed him with loyalty, now reduced to nothing. War was never worth the sacrifice.

  Koravar unclenched his fists, and a slight breeze picked up the remnants in his hand, carrying it away.

  He looked upwards to the bare and blood-stained sky, observing as the sun dipped below the horizon for the seventh time since the war ended.

  “Is this the punishment for my happiness?” King Koravar said, his words echoing through the valley. “I tried to be a good king to the people, gave them prosperity, let them grow. Why have you taken this away from me?”

  Silence hung in the air.

  “I demand an answer!” He bellowed, anger rising in him and a spark of a fire flaring around his body. He released a stream of a powerful fire blast into the air, igniting the space and parting the sky, but nothing came of it. Of course, you couldn’t harm a god.

  You, a voice spoke. A deep a guttural voice that sounded in the deepest parts of his mind that reverberated through his entire being. You are the one who was entrusted with the care of this land, with the care of its people. But in a fit of childish rage, you have managed to waste it all away.

  The clouds returned to its original form before it changed colors, sifting from its orange hue to a mass of unearthly gray. Several tendrils of vapor swirled about, as if even the heavens obeyed the call of this god.

  A pressure built behind his eardrums at the sound of divinity, one step away from bursting. The deity that watched over this land, Faldaar. Many not touched by his presence only knows him by his epithet: He Who Rages.

  “You have no right to talk to me about anger,” the once king spoke. “You stood by and watched. I felt you there. But you didn’t do anything! My family, my beloved sister, my guards, everyone slain by your negligence. Or maybe you were the one that forced me to do this in the first place.” A single teardrop rolled down his face. “Why have you forsaken me? Have I not done everything in my power to make this land a blossoming one? Have I not showed the people what it’s like to live in prosperity? Have I been a failure of a king?”

  The voice spoke again, sending a distant rumbling through ground. Answer me this, Koravar. What is it that you seek now that your course of action has been completed? Do you seek forgiveness? Hope? Power? Why do you still walk the earth? Death would be the much better option for you, would it not? Bury yourself with your people, end your own life like you theirs, give yourself the same pain you have shown your kin.

  “I didn’t want to believe it,” Koravar spoke. “I couldn’t believe the result of my anger. I’ve destroyed everything. But still, was I always meant to die right here, after seeing my country in ruins like this? No, it can’t be. I must have been born for something greater.”

  Then tell me what it is you seek.

  Koravar found himself speaking before he could, a decision he knew that might not end well for others.

  “I seek a second chance. A redemption.”

  Although he couldn’t see Faldaar in front of him, he could feel his emotions spike from within. Somehow, Koravar knew this god was pleased with his words.

  Very well, the god spoke. The clouds parted, transforming the sky, until a circular area of pure gray formed. A single light of divine radiance shot down, illuminating the area in front of Koravar.

  The brilliance receded, and in its place, stood a figure. His body adorned by a flowery kimono stretching all the way to his feet which covered a pair of destroyed sandals.

  This strange man wore a straw hat and his eyes gave off a slight twinkle.

  King Koravar couldn’t believe the figure standing before him. He’d heard of such a man that came at the beck and call of certain gods, but never did he think he’d meet one. Doubt made its way to his mind, and he needed a confirmation. “Who are you?” Koravar demanded.

  The mysterious man wandered around, taking in the sight of destruction. He started talking, his voice barely above a whisper, “My my, you’ve done a number on this place, haven’t you?” He knelt down and picked up a piece of rock, twirling it in his fingers. “I can see why Faldaar pulled me away from the Aylin Islands. I was having too much fun there, but it seems you’ve had more here!” the strange man ignored Koravar’s question.

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  “Why did Faldaar leave?” Koravar asked. “I can’t sense his presence anymore.”

  “The Unlived is a real place, did you know that?” the man spoke again, disregarding the fallen king’s inquiries. “A special place in the otherworld reserved for those who have performed the worst of sins. Somewhere you will most certainly go if you die.”

  As if on cue, the air near the man’s hand shimmered. Black smoke, with a hint of purple, floating like fairies, twirled and danced in the air. After a moment, the darkness was sucked into this person’s hand, one after another, building upon itself into the shape of a long object. It disappeared, and in its place, he held a long and jagged sword, which bore a resemblance to jungle vines.

  Koravar gulped, eying the weapon.

  “I could end your life right here and send you there, where you belong.”

  “No,” King Koravar said, taking steps backwards. “The god said I would be given a second chance! He wouldn’t give me this hope and take it away from me in one fell swoop! You can’t do this to me!” Koravar nearly tripped on a rock.

  The man willed his sword to disappear and shrugged. “Unfortunately, I am not here to slay you yet. For some reason, good ‘ole Faldaar doesn’t believe your place to die is here. If it’s redemption you seek, then I’ll pave the way for you.”

  “Who are you?” Koravar repeated.

  “My name is Aubriel,” he said. “An Anomaly. I hail from the land of curses, Druvhar, but have been chosen as the Champion for He Who Rages. And I have been sent here to give you a choice. A choice of both redemption and eternal damnation. The price you pay for the deaths of all these people will be eternal suffering, but the method you choose will be different.”

  “Your wording makes me skeptical,” King Koravar spoke, inching closer to Aubriel. “But I’m listening.”

  “I can take your life right now and send you to the Unlived where you will spend each and every day in an eternal hell, in a halfway point between being alive and being dead, each moment will be a moment of agony, and you will never again feel peace, reminded of your actions here. Or I can bind you in the land of the living, an action which will bear ramifications for the world, but a way for you to repent your sins.”

  “I know about curses,” Koravar spoke. “I’ve seen some with my own eyes. What type will you cast?”

  “One that comes with a cost.”

  “Which is?”

  “Why should I tell you here? Heed my words, and you’ll know what the curse is. For now, just know that your life will take a turn, and everything you thought you knew about the world, about Faldaar, about the other nations, they’ll change.

  “You’ll be faced with many tough decisions, and as a redeemer upon this land, you must be willing to do what is right and just. If you want to create a new future for yourself, where you won’t be sent to the Unlived, you must become a better man this world knows you can’t be.”

  The king motioned to everything around him. “Does it seem like a good man can do something such as this?”

  “Your story is going to get interesting,” Aubriel said, a hint of a smile growing on his face. “I have all the answers you seek, but knowing them will take the joy out of living to find them, will it not?”

  “Can you at least tell me about this curse?”

  “Another truth you must find yourself.”

  Koravar knew the answer before he had time to think. All this time, wandering this fallen country, he had no more desire than to make things right. “I accept,” King Koravar said without hesitation. “If this can lift my soul free from the weight of what I’ve done and give me a new chance to start over in this world, to redeem myself, then I will do whatever it takes.”

  Aubriel chuckled. “Very well,” he said.

  The Anomaly closed his eyes and a slight wind blew. The faint lines of black passed through his body. At that moment, something changed within him. Something he didn’t quite know. A new Blessing? Newfound strength? A disease? The inner workings of his body shifted and changed, his whole being emerging from this, turning him into something different from before.

  Aubriel breathed out. “It is done. You have been cursed. Now go. Your job as the fallen king is to be a conqueror. See the world. Take it for yourself. Be the ruler you know you have the potential to be. But not one which would wrought this destruction on others.”

  “So my destiny is to take over the world?” Koravar asked, not sure whether to be hopeful or resentful.

  “Potentially,” Aubriel said, giving the king a wink. “Or live as a hermit forever alone. The choice is yours with this newfound life.”

  The Anomaly held out a single large chunk of a foreign gemstone, glistening and shining in all its beauty. One moment, this gem stood in his hand, the next it shattered into a million pieces. Individual pieces of the gem fell and littered the ground, and a bright light shone all around the man. It grew brighter in intensity for a single spectacular moment, then vanished. When the light was gone, so was Aubriel.

  The king knew what he had to do. Somehow, somewhere, there had to be a way to remove all this destruction from the land. Perhaps he’d find it one day, or maybe he wouldn’t.

  Koravar turned around and set his sights forwards. Reluctantly, he took the first steps onto his next destination. One after another, eager to be out of sight of the castle as well as the country known as Arubia which had nothing left to offer him.

  A shame too. For if he stayed just one moment longer and continued to dwell on the past instead of moving forward, the world as we know it would have turned out different. From the rubble and out of sight of Once-King Koravar, a singular hand shot out.