A good Christian boy
Through moonlit streets of concrete and polished rock, of shades of grey and brown, a teenager walked annoyed. The chilly wind (at least by the standards of tropical climates) trying in vain to cool his boiling thoughts. And the sounds of the nearby ocean, for a moment not drowned by beach goers, whispered into his ears a melody of peace.
Not that he would pay attention to these things right now. In this moment, only one thing would soothe his spirits, something he was right now seeking.
"Ugh, I need some wine...", grunted said man, seeking to drown his frustration in spirits.
From the back could be seen a sharp, high quality tuxedo and shoes. From a distance he could be confused for a woman, from his somewhat below average stature and flowing black shoulder length hair. From close up front, he looked more like a man, what with his lightly muscular body, sharp jaw and full beard. To his constant frustration, still he maintained somewhat feminine features in his skin, eyelashes, nose, and a dainty mole under his left eye, looking somewhat k-popish. Something his actual friends would never let him forget.
Peter had just come out of a coming of age party for the daughter of a cousin of his father's friend. Yeah, when he heard that, not even he was quite sure what kind of relation they had to his family, or why he had to go personally, and not just write some best regards letter like the usual times his parents urged him to help them in their web of connections. Such confusion lasted for about 2 seconds, for as soon as he heard the words "coming of age" and "daughter", it became clear. Another girl they were trying to hook him up with, that probably meant he couldn't just stay at the sidelines and make small talk while trying to sneakily rob them of their meats and cheeses, the only good thing about such parties. Of course he was the first to dance with her, and of course it has to be the heck be damned waltz!
Not that the girl was ugly or unpleasant, quite the contrary. But when he's simply not interested, and he's pushed to do it a dozen times, it's no surprise it got old quite fast. Heck, he was not even sure the girl was comfortable with this pushy attitude either! She probably was just as likely forced into dancing the waltz with strangers in the name of "socialization" and "forming connections" like he was, and he didn't even like to dance the waltz! Peter was more of a rock guy, or whatever cool songs he heard in JoJo.
JoJo always had banger songs, courtesy of Araki.
Huffing and puffing, he approached his calming muse. The lovely lady that, since he turned 18, has for a year been by his side during troubled times: the wine shop.
Ideally, he should have gone straight home after the event, as such things only end at the late hours of the night. However, Peter managed to leave early this day, as he had been accepted in quite the prestigious university, and getting there in time was absolutely necessary, something that might be difficult if he stayed for the entire duration of the festivities. With that as an excuse, the young man convinced the daughter's family that me should quickly make himself scarce quite a ways before the final hours. Thank God for that. That particular birthday was quite boring, not only was it overly formal even compared to others of the same caliber, but also the food and drink was not to Peter's tastes, they tried too hard to be "healthy" and "light", leaving the dishes quite bland and flavorless. Honestly, the entire thing was mostly for the old fart's satisfaction, again, more so than usual, if the look of jealousy the star of the night herself gave when she heard he would leave early was any indication.
But then again, if Peter was supposed to wake up early and ready the next day, why would he buy wine on the way home? Well, because Peter held his alcohol quite well and was also self disciplined enough to know how much he could take. In the first place, he didn't drink to get drunk, but just to relax and feel the pleasant taste and buzz of the liquid.
Seeing the stylized italic letters "Dionysus's fine drinking and food" fast approaching, he saw the quaint shop of red bricks and decorative plants lining up it's windows, with vines of tomato and grape scaling into the walls.
Entering with practiced precision, Peter entered his second home. Cool and conditioned, it smelled absolutely, WONDERFULLY, like wood, spirits, olives and the many other things that go well with a drink. Even though it specialized in wine, this particular shop also sold other kinds of beverages and even food, however the last ones were generally the kind of thing that one would eat with wine: dry cured sausages, cheeses, olives, bread, etc. Forgetting all about his previous frustration, Peter put on a smile, a genuine one this time, and approached the well known old lady that ran the shop.
The aged woman, currently organizing the shelves and putting various bottles and foodstuffs into their places, turned to look at the newest arrival. Seeing the familiar face, she immediately grinned knowingly. Going towards two particular walls lined up with imported wines, she pulled one bottle from each. Quickly, she turned towards Peter, bowed lightly and redirected her attention to the counter nearby, walking behind it. She then put the two bottles on said counter, slowly and dramatically turning them so that the labels were shown at the same time.
Oh my, now that's nice!
Gitty from the recent arrival of the wines of his heart, our protagonist was already in high spirits. Reminding himself to not be rude and ignore pleasantries, he asked the wizened lady.
"Antonia! How was your day? Drank any good ones today? Maybe with a little bread, hmmm?", said Peter, asking for a conversation.
The old lady was one of the few people he could be more frank with, for even with the little time they had known each other, Peter had grown to like her quite a lot. Heck, she was practically his grandmother!
They often went to various events together, the ones he really liked, and she even financed part of it. Though suspicious at the beginning, it became quite clear after several conversations that Antonia was just seeking for someone to spoil, for she had several problems with her biological family and was practically cut off from it. Her only belongings being the old shop and antique heirlooms, who she refused to pass on to the rest of her accursed family.
Her hands leaving the bottles and supporting themselves on the table, Antonia tapped the wood lightly.
"Just fine my boy! Better than that! We got a new shipment today, as you can see; aged Port from Portugal and Primitivo di Puglia from Italy, your favorites! I'm sure you're gonna to take at least one of them..." lightening her grin and adopting neutrality in tone, she wanted to ask him about his day, even if she could already guess what happened today and what was his opinion of it, seeing how late it was.
"That aside, how was your day? Also heard you got accepted into college recently, what course did you get in? I'm sure you had no problem getting into whatever you wanted." in a rasp voice said the grandma, which seemed to have the incredible ability to get younger the more she drank, and she drank a lot. So it wasn't a surprise to see her that talkative, even in the middle of the night.
Two good news and two things he didn't want to talk about, great. Well at least it balanced out, that doesn't usually happens in party days, since those things always take the entire day. Such thoughts assailed his mind, but Peter tried his best to stay positive, not only because that would be a bummer to the conversation he looked forward to. But also because, being frank, he cringed internally whenever he noticed he was complaining to someone other than himself. He didn't want to sound like a pretentious "boo hoo, look at all my money and fancy clothes. my sweet ass sure is oppressed and depressed. what an unlucky soul I am" type of person.
"I've got three things to say! One, SWEET! Two, incredibly boring and annoying, like every time they try to hook me up with some random girl. And three, three options is all I have: Law, Medicine and Engineering. Because nothing else would satisfy my parents", Peter said while expressively sifting between hand gestures. Attentively, because he didn't want to knock something over while gesticulating and looking like a retarded person. Peter paused, looked around, then looked back at the old lady. "You know what? I'll take both the Port and the Italian Conte di Campiano, because I'm gonna have to handle engineering starting next week, and I'll probably need something strong to make me survive Calculus".
Antonia laughed at his show of eccentricity. Peter as always quite theatrical whenever they were the only ones at the shop. "You don't need to go out of your way to make stand up comedy to me. And I sure hope you don't do this in front of other people, or do you always act like a crazy clown?" said grandma with a challenging expression and cheshire-like smile.
Peter's smile widened. He made an exaggerated bow, twirled his mustache into pointy ends and said with a horrible French accent: "Only to those who are worthy, and who appreciate it!".
A moment passes...
Stare down...
Both burst into laughter.
She though this would be high time to try it again, seeing that the climate around them was calm.
Antonia was the typical country old lady - getting into people's business came as natural to her, especially so when it came to things she deemed unhealthy. After coming to the city, this didn't change. So, it was only natural for her to try and get to Peter.
Ever since she saw him for the first time a year ago, her instincts told her that something was wrong. Externally, he looked the picture of a blessed young man, but still something nagged at the back of her mind. And so she tried to get closer to the teenager.
Surprisingly, he didn't protest, she supposed that all those taste testing events were something that Peter liked as much as her. However, when it came to talking about himself, he was surprisingly recollected. Dodging and weaving around the questions with great expertise, redirecting the flow of the conversation, she ended up learning surprisingly little about him, at least, little that really mattered.
However, his behavior and the bits and pieces she gathered, combined with previous experiences, showed a very ugly picture.
She might have failed her daughter in the past, but she wouldn't fail now.
"But I can see that you're still not satisfied. I'm serious Peter, you always look like you're longing for something, and that something won't come from just obeying your parents at every turn, or acting all smiles when you really aren't".
...This again. Maybe something more forceful will make her get the hint this time.
Antonia immediately stiffened.
It was not his smile, nor his words or his posture. Or maybe it was everything at the same time.
From Peter she felt a sense of danger, like she was being lightly choked.
It was like looking at a tiger ready to pounce, one couldn't help but hold their breath.
He was just standing there, calmly looking at her. However, those hands of his never looked more ready to hurt her.
Those hands moved, and Antonia flinched.
Peter set a few bills on the counter.
"... Those wine bottles, are about this much right?".
"... R-right, have a nice day." Said Peter's "grandma". With a pained face she looked on ashamed as Peter quickly turned away and left the shop. It wasn't the first time she tried talking to him about this, and it wasn't the first time he had rejected her help. In the end, he still didn't trust her. The wrinkles on grandma's pained face could be also seen on Peter's face, as he tried his best to show he was not affected. That had hit harder than he had liked, and so he aggressively countered, half out of frustration and half out of cold pragmatism. He knew that lady couldn't take much of this, in fact, she won't not try interfering again for quite some time.
However, he had just increased the gap between them that much more. But to begin with, Peter never really trusted anybody, right? So one or two more fake relationships didn't matter in the end.
Foolish Peter walked on with a bottle in both hands, not bothering to put them on a bag. From the outside, his outline looked like one of those drunken men that tried to escape from reality, tumbling through it as they did in Bars.
But something changed.
One's fate isn't really given out to us. However, it also isn't completely out of our control.
Sometimes, life feels like a play. One which the most unlikely people are chosen to laugh on great comedies and suffer in great tragedies, fitting perfectly into their roles.
After all, that's why they were chosen.
...What makes one be chosen?
And so he tumbled and rolled into his fate. His prison not withstanding his body weight as he fell through the bars.
"Huh?"
Peter had just tripped. And where once had been solid pavement, there was wet grass. The night cruel breezed wind in its coldest of Winter. Though not enough for snow, the 2C (37F) temperature was much colder than Peter was accustomed to. And definitely much colder than he could withstand. His suit, now dirtied and wet, was not made for insulation and wasn't of much help here. He got up, grabbed his bottles of wine and looked around. His surprise had made him not realize in how much danger he was in, yet.
"WHAT THE HECK?! PLAINS?! AND WHATS WRONG WITH THIS TEMPERATURE?! AND I CAN SEE A BUTT TON OF STARS?! AND WHY DO THEY LOOK NOTHING LIKE THE ONES I'M USED TO?!", freaked out Peter, who usually isn't one to scream, or have a panic attack for that matter. But this time he made an exception.
Looking around with clear desperation, he only saw things he didn't like: more plains to the front and back, a few dunes and a forest to his right, to his left more plains and dunes and a dirt road...
"A DIRT ROAD! THANK GOD!", he exclaimed with hope clear in his eyes. Running towards it he noticed something. "This cold, if I don't find shelter soon, I might end up with something a lot worse than a cold".
This realization chilled his core more than the cold did. "I might actually die here". As soon as that hit his brain, it seemed like a fever possessed his body and an animal his reason. "I... I... I... I DON'T WANT TO DIE HERE! NOT THIS WAY, WITHOUT DOING ANYTHING WITH MY LIFE!". Peter foolishly bolted in the dirt road, tears in his eyes. Calling practically every deity the human mind has ever known, he looked pathetic and cowardly. Though he was no stranger to fighting and martial arts, being in a real life or death situation against an enemy as unbeatable as the frigid cold to a tropical boy in ill suited clothing, and worse, homeless, was too much for Peter.
Now realising that he had no home and was far away from his friends, tears he held came flowing. He couldn't stand it anymore, he was isekai'd into some random frigid plains in some god forsaken land with immediate threat of death looming over his head and he didn't even know whether he could find shelter in time. He again prayed to Jesus, Buddha, Krishna and everyone else that his day didn't become worse than it already was.
The thing is, he already had an idea this place was god forsaken. But he didn't quite known HOW god forsaken it was.
The Kosmos planned to tell it to him. In the straightest manner it could, and right now.
In the distance could faintly be seen the silhouette of a woman in proper clothing. In fact, in quite victorian clothing, the woman looked beautiful. With golden hair shaped in curls topped by a beautiful wide brimmed hat, competing with her dress in elegance. She carried in her hand what looked like hand baggage, supported by a wooden structure similar to the handles in modern plain travel baggage.
Peter practically jumped with happiness at seeing another human. The woman with mysteriously shining skin turned around and widened her eyes at the man in front of her. And while Peter tried desperately to communicate with her, the young slug girl, still lacking in common sense, assumed what every young and stupid mamono of her species would assume had a man desperately approached them.
He wanted them to suck their balls dry of course.
"P... Please, help me. I don't know what to do. I'm lost and cold and-", Peter stopped talking as soon as he noticed the strange look in the woman's eyes. More than that, why does her skin look like jelly?
The woman grinned coquettishly, licking her lips and seductively removing her gloves with her mouth. "Well, well, what do I see here? A fine young man well dressed, cold and with what seems to be wine. I know very well how I can help you."
Peter gulped and widened his eyes.
"How about you also help me? Semen is something I haven't had for quite a while, and I'm sure mister can spare some", the woman moves her naked hands to the brim of her dress ready to lift it up for the world to see.
"Oh, SHIT", thought Peter while tightening his grip on the bottles.
"Don't worry, I'm going to warm you up with a full, wet, night of PASSION!", the woman lifts her skirt.
Below it was a writhing mass of slime and flesh.
...
...
...
"... What? Was that too mu-"
"HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"
Peter karate screamed as he hit her on the head with the heavy wine bottles, fully knocking her out. He didn't stay to see any more, he bolted. While running through the dirt road, he got colder and colder. Eventually he collapsed, thinking he had died and gone straight to hell.
Immersed in complete darkness, he lacked smell.
He lacked vision and touch.
He lacked taste and sound.
Finally, he lacked even a self.
Completely devoid of ego, he was stripped of everything.
In the womb of Gaia he rested, waiting for his birth.
In the waters of Tiamat he purified himself.
With the winds of Hermes he learned the truth.
And in the fires of Apollo he burned away everything that was not truly him.
The elemental journey repeated itself in infinite cycles, over and over again, for what seemed to be eternity.
"Why have you come here?", the four gods asked.
"I have come in search of light! Of Kingdom, of Foundation, of Glory, of Victory, of Beauty."
Gaia took a step forward and rested her hand on Peter's chest.
Tiamat took a step forward and rested her hand on Peter's chest.
Hermes took a step forward and rested his hand on Peter's chest.
Apollo took a step forward and rested his hand on Peter's chest.
Looking around him, he saw four figures. Two were short boys, one wore a high class suit with a silver rose in his long black hair, the other boy also had the same black hair, but wore casual clothes and held in his hand an old yellow bear plushie.
The other two figures were tall women, one of them had a black bob cut and wore a high quality brown dress. The other one had golden hair held in a pony tail, she wore casual blue clothes.
Peter had the impression he knew them, but his mind was too fuzzy.
"Heir to a dying world, we call you to infinite Beauty. Let the contract be made, and if you shall give up on it, let the blood you spill and your pained tears of regret be your payment!" the four said at once.
A sudden flash of light cleared the area, blinding Peter for a brief moment. After he came to, he could see the silhouette of a bald man in blue military uniform.
"Heir to a dying world, I shall make true the deepest wishes of your soul, if only you reach me."
As Orpheus's hand got closer to Peter, he could feel great apprehension.
But also… hope?
Peter didn't know who that man was, but he had a feeling…
Whoever he was, he was what Peter wanted to be.
"I shall be anxiously waiting for your rebirth, redeemer.", said the man.
Together the five said:
"From the Spirals of Chaos, an initial idea sprung"
"You shall be crowned"
"This idea exploded into infinity"
"Wisdom shall be given"
"Collapsing inside itself, the infinite ideas cooled down"
"Understanding shall be reached"
"Giving way to a shining diamond"
"So you shall overcome the abyss of Knowledge and conquer Chaos"
"Separating into light and darkness, the material world as we know"
"You shall master the universal law of Severity and Mercy"
"So giving way to Beauty!"
"So giving way to Beauty!"
"When Victory is yours"
"True Glory shall be obtained"
"So you shall know the Foundation of the world"
"And rightfully rule the Kingdom"
"By our names and images, all power is locked and unlocked!"
POWER DESCENDS LIKE A THUNDERBOLT!
,,,,
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Unbeknownst to our protagonist, the gears of fate stirred. While great monsters and angels planned, the Fool schemed and laughed, happy that the time of beginnings inched ever so closer.
As the savior of humanity completed his first mission, the redeemer slept, unaware of the winding plot that bound them both together.
Heirs to a world that dies, what shall they do to save all,
While Living in a Paradox?
What makes one be chosen?
Hello, John here!
After planning things a little more, I think I'm ready to start this rewrite. A lot was reused in this first chapter, but the next one will be written from zero. A LOT of hints were added in this first chapter, especially in that final part. And hopefully people will notice what I'm referencing here.
I thank you guys in advance for your patience, and I hope this installment isn't as haphazard as the last one.
As always your opinions are precious!