Solomon remained in his bedroom as everyone else fell asleep in their respective rooms. The boy had trouble getting comfortable in his bed due to feeling not right in the head after experiencing conflicting decisions in regards to grace and karma.
He rolled around, groaning in frustration, when he realized that the room he was staying in was too spacious for his liking. Turning his head to look at the right side to see the said room they picked for him—a generous thing of the Calvin family to do since many wealthy families are pieces of sh*t.
It was dimly lit, with candles providing enough illumination for the boy to see around. The walls were painted a dark shade of green, giving the room a cozy feel. The bed was large, bigger than Solomon's own one back at home, and the sheets were silk. He ran his fingers through the fabric, marveling at how smooth it felt. The mattress was firm and comfortable, and the pillows were soft against his neck.
Solomon's sword leaned on the opposite corner of the bed, not bothered to even pick it up in the first place. He didn't mind leaving it in the same room as himself, for he was already in a safe place with the people who took them in. He trusted the holy man with his life, despite how different their views are.
He sighed before turning his entire body on his back, staring at the ceiling with a dull expression on his face, still unable to process how he felt regarding today's discussion. Even now, his emotions and mind are still conflicted about whether or not forgiving his enemies would be just. It feels like giving them a free pass without suffering punishment for everything they have done.
Although the issue is as complex as it seems, He can't fathom why God would grant mercy to those who simply say sorry. Or is it more than what it appears? Something he lacks understanding of, despite clearly not being religious in the first place.
Frowning at this thought, he hadn't forgotten how much he hates all forms of deities. Especially religion itself, false promises with no proof to support those claims at all. Such a thing is absurd in its entirety; the idea that some invisible deity is watching over everyone at every hour is ridiculous.
However, isn't Seth proof that this omnipotent creator exist? And if he does exist, how come everyone suffers in their own way, regardless of how they lived their lives? If he is as almighty as claimed to be, why doesn't the Lord just flick his fingers and all problems are gone?
The boy doesn't know nor understand Christianity entirely; it just seems so surreal for him, as he found himself questioning religion itself furthermore. Even so, he can't help but wonder why there's always something stopping this all-loving God from fixing everyone's problems.
Sighing exhaustively, Solomon is tired of thinking about it. He wants to rest after prolonging their travels and experiences. The last thing he needed right now was to feel conflict in regards to theology of all things. Rolling to the left side, the young fighter shut his door, only to be disturbed by a knock from his door.
Usually, he would ignore this as he desperately wanted to rest right now, but it is nonetheless better to just see who it might be to knock in this hour. Groaning in annoyance, he unwillingly got out of bed and slowly approached the door.
Once Solomon opened it, his attention was now focused on the nervous boy: "Calvin?" Annoyingly asked, "What do you want?" He demanded in an irritated manner, which startled the other slightly for this, finding this a rather waste of time after realizing who it was.
Calvin fidgeted his fingers nervously. "E-er..." He gulped before glancing up to meet Solomon's green-colored eyes. "Sorry to bother you this late of the hour. But can I speak with you in private?" The young merchant was a bit scared to ask, for he knew how intimidating Solomon could be on the outside.
At first, he wanted to say no, but something told him to hear this other boy out. "Tsk, fine," he said, clicking his tongue in response before stepping aside to let him through the room. "Just keep it short, or else I will kick you out," the young fighter said without a hint of hesitation.
Nodding sheepishly, Calvin entered the bedroom and sat on the edge of Solomon's bed while the one who opened the door closed it shut. "Okay, what is this about?" The white-haired kid said, crossing his arms impatiently with a demanding tone.
The young merchant moved his head away from him and asked, "Can you sit next to me? Its important," he requested almost shyly, causing the other boy to just sigh in defeat, accepting this request otherwise. Solomon then moved and sat on the bed, remaining quiet while waiting for the merchant to continue speaking.
A few seconds passed as neither one said anything else, both boys sitting in silence in each other's presence alone. They gazed into each other's eyes, Calvin's orbs filled with fear while Solomon's orbs showed indifference. The two shared an awkward moment before, finally, one of them finally spoke.
"Speak up," Solomon said, not wasting a second more. The words made Calvin flinch visibly, expressing more nervousness than before. He squirmed slightly while twiddling fingers around. "Is it about your family?" He's guessing terribly in his opinion, but it's not like he cares at this point.
Shaking his head rapidly, the young merchant responded, "No! Not at all. Its about God, you see," he answered, looking down on the floor rather than looking at him directly. This response caught Solomon's interest, making him listen further: "Are you religious?"
The question froze him for a brief moment before he said, "What? Me, religious? Are you stupid or something? I despise all forms of religion." He replied with a rather insulting tone, frowning in slight annoyance over being asked, out of nowhere, "Why?"
Hearing this answer, Calvin was flabbergasted by it: "You...you hate the gods?" He can't believe such a person exists in this world. "How can you hate the gods?" He questioned, in absolute bewilderment of the young fighter, not finding any sense in reasoning whatsoever, "Why would you hate them?"
Solomon was taken aback by the other's reaction. "Well, for starters, they never lift a finger to help anyone besides claiming to care for their followers," he explains with contemptuous voice, "those liars should burn in hell for eternity. Those so-called gods never did a damn thing to anyone or for anyone other than themselves."The boy spoke furiously, and his gaze hardened greatly.
This caught Calvin off guard; he wasn't expecting him to speak so strongly about such things. "That's..." He tried to respond, "Well, it's normal for them to not interfere with mortals, but what if they are simply bound by some law? Doesn't everyone who has jobs also have to comply with rules and regulations from their bosses?" He pointed out logically before adding, "Surely there must be some reason, or maybe these beings simply choose not to meddle in human affairs at all," defending those he worships with his whole heart.
The white-haired male scoffed loudly upon hearing that, "bullshit." The retort came quickly. "These supposed divine beings always talk about helping people yet never actually do anything useful for anyone except themselves," he said scathingly. "Do you realize how much blood is spilled because of these self-centered beings?!" Solomon's voice became louder while he spoke: "Numerous lives have died for no apparent reason; countless are starving or worse, dying from illness, yet those said Gods don't care and just simply ignore those cries for help altogether!" His fists clenched tightly upon recalling painful memories of losing Judith.
Calvin nodded understandably, feeling the pain of the other boy.So, uh, let's change the topic!" He said swiftly, not wanting to upset Solomon anymore, "What about Grace and Karma, which do you—" The boy couldn't finish his sentence the moment the young fighter interrupted him.
"Karma is what I believe in; it doesn't matter what these so-called gods think or how they justify their actions. What matters is the cruel reality itself of living in a world where nothing peaceful gets solved easily, requiring violence to get things done."
The answer gave Calvin a bitter taste in his mouth: "But...but I think you are wrong." An unsettled feeling started building up within him. This caused Solomon to raise his eyebrows at the comment. "Karma isn't just about good and evil; if you are suffering because of financial issues or whatever that doesn't revolve around being an evil person, then you deserve it just as anyone else who has suffered through similar situations," the boy explained patiently, trying not to anger him any further than this.
But surprisingly, the other one seemed unaffected by what he said but nonetheless curious to hear more about it. "Go on," clenching his fists angrily at this, "let us hear your excuse," Solomon snorted at such naivety. He expected no less from a pampered brat like him.
Swallowing nervously, he continued, "A lot of people suffer from karma regardless of whether they are good or evil. Its never-ending cycle of pain and suffering Bringing his head down, "unlike karma, grace karma, for it frees the soul from past sins and provides them with another chance of living life," the boy whispered in a somber voice.
This struck Solomon hard, causing him to grit his teeth, but he remained silent throughout. Allowing him to continue nonetheless, despite how much anger is building up within him, And yet, he didn't say anything to prevent Calvin from finishing what he had to say.
"I think karma can be a dangerous thing. It teaches us that when people do good things, like helping others or getting rewards, we deserve them. And when we do bad things, like shouting at someone for a minor thing or hurting others, we deserve that. However, this can be a dangerous pattern because it makes it more difficult to forgive and love yourself and others, limiting our thinking and causing us to constantly dwell upon past mistakes rather than focusing on improving ourselves in the future. Therefore, if we want to make change happen for a better world, we need to focus on what's happening right now and make changes based upon what's important rather than dwelling upon things that have already happened in the past."
Silence enveloped both boys, who remained motionless for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts, wondering if they had made the right decision to come here or not. This lasted briefly as the young fighter broke the stillness with his cold, unwavering voice. "I suppose this is goodbye," turning to the other, "leave my room," he ordered bluntly without emotion whatsoever.
His tone surprised him, sending chills down his spine. "Uh? But—" He attempted to say, but Solomon caught him off guard again, not even bothered to reason with the boy, "Get out of my room!" He yelled, which terrified Calvin instantly as he shot up from the bed and dashed out of the room.
Left alone to deal with himself, he stood up and calmly approached the nearby window, gazing at the beautiful night sky that illuminated beautifully, not a cloud in sight above him. Taking a deep breath, Solomon found himself asking why he allowed this person in in the first place.
Suddenly, tears began to well up in his eyes, threatening to spill over, and they did: "What...?" Touching his face gently, he found himself crying for the first time in forever. "W-why...why am I...crying?" The boy didn't know why he was shedding tears.
It's been so long since he did this, and somehow he's still susceptible to emotional breakdowns once in awhile. Sniffing the salty liquid away, Solomon wiped them using the sleeves of his robe. "Shit. Stop this," growling quietly while biting his lower lip in agitation, "stop. It hurts. It hurts too much." His breathing became unsteady as his eyesight blurred out.
His heart ached painfully inside his chest while more tears ran down his cheeks nonstop. He hated how weak he felt from this moment alone. "Shit! SHIT!" Shouting loudly at himself, he planted his arm on the glass with his forehead resting on it, staring down at the ground to see his watery tears continue to pour from him.
There was no end to these drops falling and rolling down in succession with each other, creating small puddles below him. "I'm not. I can't." He can't forgive; he cannot forgive! But that man—the man he looked up to! It's not fair at all to think this!
"Mommy, I do not know what to do!" He cried silently in agony, still keeping his volume low enough so that no one in the mansion heard his whimpers. Clutching his heart in pain, it hurt immensely for some unknown reason. "It's unfair; life is unfair. So why..."
"Why does it hurt so much?"
