Laying on his back, Solomon's eyes slowly opened when the morning sun shone over him, as though he'd been asleep the whole night or longer. Stirring awake, he cautiously stood up without a sword in hand as he continued to focus on the blue sky.
Looking down on his left, he can see the completely massacred body of Striker's corpse: pieces of meat scattered around the ground next to him with a pool of crimson fluids that reeked an awfully strong metallic scent mixed with a combination of other foul odors emitted from said liquids.
For a moment, he felt satisfaction in avenging those who had died by this monster's doing. However, as time passed, sorrow began creeping up inside until it overtook any remnants left behind in anger's place, causing fresh tears to fall into puddles underneath boots and continue onwards through dirt until they merged perfectly into brown soil beneath.
Gasping shakily, he swallowed hard from what he had done. While Solomon did not regret what he had done, something didn't make him feel any better about it. He felt empty, hollow, and broken beyond repair after remembering Seth's last words.
"Don't become like your enemy; forgive them and start anew."
"It is not just about forgiving those who hurt you but also forgiving yourself as well. You are human, and everyone makes mistakes that cannot be undone, but we still learn from them and grow from them."
Clenching his fists tightly, he felt an understanding of the message from the deceased holy man, who sacrificed himself just because of the foolish mistake Solomon made in underestimating one opponent. Yet, despite that, he still ended up saving him.
To never become like the monsters who hurt him, it has already been too late in that regard; he has already done that. As much as he wants to agree to just going home and living a normal, happy life like he used to, it has been replaced by the trauma of losing every person close to him for one reason or another.
Now all he has left are memories that haunt his nightmares at night; no friends to rely on; just his obsession fuels revenge. Thus, it became apparent how much of a monster Solomon really is now; no one cares whether others survive a hellish life in poverty or worse.
This is why he starts to believe in the philosophy of the strong weeding out the weak, since people don't care for others' feelings or opinions since no one concerns themselves with petty matters such as helping people in need. The world is full of selfish asses, and this is how he learned it ever since that fat bastard on the platform decided to spare him.
Sighing exhaustively, he turned and picked up his sword, putting it on his back before tears kept rolling down his cheeks with quiet sniffles escaping from the lips. "Seth..." His voice cracked while the sun cast its warm glow upon his bloodied clothes. "I'm sorry, I couldn't save you like my mother." He apologized to no one, feeling hopeless about doing anything right except killing for the sake of it.
Calm and approaching footsteps caught Solomon's attention, and he turned to the source of these sounds and said, "Seth?!" Happiness glowed on the young boy's face immediately upon seeing the holy man standing without the massive, freshly-sliced wound on his torso.
Seth gave out a saddened smile. "I'm alive," was the first response that came out of the man's mouth, as though he expected this outcome. "The holy spirit healed me when I called upon him," was his following explanation while placing his palm on his own chest.
Part of him wanted to doubt if this was simply a hallucination, but Solomon doesn't care about it anymore. He knows for a fact that Seth is standing in front of him, smiling at the fighter who fought thick and thin just to end this nightmare once and for all.
With tears of joy, the boy ran up to him with open arms as he embraced Seth tightly, burying his face in the white robe as warmth radiated between two clothes touching one another,sharing mutual affection for their presence.I thought you died!" The young fighter exclaimed happily through muffled sobs,I don't know how you came back, but I was so—"
"We need to talk."
The young man pulled away slightly, looking at Solomon with a distraught expression. "My child, my son," he said, looking down at him as his own eyes spoke of sadness and shame. "How could you let your emotions cloud your own judgment to do this?" Seth asked in utter disbelief, as if he couldn't believe what he witnessed.
Solomon froze in place, taken back by this unexpected remark: "I was trying to save you, protecting you and me from that monster!" Pointing to the once-dead body of Striker, "I wanted to avenge the people of the village who died in the empire's hands; he is one of those soldiers that helped kill them!"
However, the holy man was troubled by hearing those words from Solomon as they were spoken without any trace of remorse: "Ah yes, you have killed him," frowning at the reasons, "but you went overboard after that man was defeated. You dismembered him, stripped away his identity, dignity, honor, pride, and even robbed him of life by denying rest in peace," scolding the child sternly with the disapproving tone used in addressing this issue.
Flabbergasted at this reasoning, "Are you crazy?! This guy tried to kill you and me! He was an assassin!!" The boy retaliated angrily as if Seth wasn't understanding what he had done: "That psycho deserved what he got!" Solomon raised his voice without caring what consequences it would bring upon him.
But Seth only shook his head in disappointment. "I understand your reasons and the need to defend yourself, but this..." Gesturing to the scene that took place, "This was excessive." Sighing tiredly, he briefly looked away for a moment before returning. "You took pleasure in it, and because of that, you became evil to fight evil," the words uttered lowly as if ashamed to hear those truths.
Solomon lowered his gaze. "Then you think I am no better than the monsters that I fight," he mumbled in a low tone. The holy man quickly retracted, "Of course not, my child," reaching downwards with tenderness, gently stroking the child's head, comforting the child for being so mistaken.
"You did what you have to do, but this isn't the way you should defend yourselves against your enemies," he said sternly, looking at him sternly while his expression softened as he gazed into those hazel orbs. "Forgive them for their sins and yourself, so not only will it make their wrongdoings forgivable but also free your soul of its burden, making it easier to live peacefully in harmony," he explained further, brushing away any loose strands on the boy's forehead.
Solomon scowled sourly at those words: "You expect me to forgive the empire for all it has done?!" He questioned in an outrageous manner, eyeing up and down at him, "I just can't let this slide and pretend they never existed!" Raising voice even louder while tightening grip on clothing belonging to the holy man.
However, Seth remained unbothered by this and instead nodded in agreement. "Do not take revenge and continue doing good; let the Lord handle it," he said reassuringly with a kind smile that faded afterwards as he spoke. "If you don't change your ways, you'll be no different than the Empire itself." His tone became solemn as though it might lead to something far worse than what happened earlier tonight.
A horrified expression appeared across Solomon's face. "Wait, what?" He stared at him and said, "God will do it? Why doesn't he just destroy them if he's so powerful?!" He protested furiously, as though he'd been wronged somehow.
Sighing tiredly, "time will tell, but remember this: lives are finite, but the afterlife is infinite. When the wicked refused to repent and believe in the Lord, including His beloved Son, Then judgment will be served, with no more chances given afterwards once the time is up. Eternal damnation is inevitable, and that is final," Seth clarified clearly.
The young fighter felt all sorts of mixed emotions inside him: fear, anger, grief, and lastly, confusion. He wanted so desperately to seek revenge for all those who have been killed unjustly by this empire, while on the other hand, Solomon despises any religion because of those incompetent gods.
But something tells him this is different: the Lord these Christians worship was more powerful than others since their version claimed him to be God of everything. If this is true and our lives are truly finite, then that means there is justice in the end.
Staring at the ground with a contemplative look, Solomon lifted his eyes and looked at him with new-found trust. "If what you say is true, then I believe you," he said, nodding firmly before turning away as though he had forgotten something else. "Let us head back to the camp site; those two idiots might be worried about where we had gone," he suggested sheepishly.
Gently, Seth smiled gracefully, relieved of having to reach understanding between each other with a mutual nod. Afterward, he instructed him to follow: "Stay close to me; I will bring the both of us to them," telling him with a calm but firm tone, waiting patiently for his reply.
"Okay."
A short answer was followed by a single affirmative motion, which conveyed more than simple confirmation of intentions behind agreeing with another person's words. Reassuring Seth that their discussion is not over yet but merely delayed until further notice, this satisfied both immensely because it meant they would talk about this again another time, perhaps at a better place.
He walked forward, passing by Solomon, extending his hand and offering it up while making sure the boy was following along with him. "Hold onto my hand, so I don't lose you along the way," she explained briefly, smiling reassuringly when the child took hold of the adult's palm, squeezing it gently before letting go entirely.
They walked through the forest, heading to where they had left as the two held hands together like father and son, although this act brought discomfort to the latter since it reminded him of old times during childhood when Judith was still alive alongside Solomon.
The sun's rays continued to shone through the leaves above their heads, casting shadows upon the earth below while birds chirped loudly overhead. Insects buzzed past ears, and occasional squirrels scurried along branches, leaping from trunk to trunk in search of food.
Along with the smell of pine wafting through the air, invading nostrils with a sharp fragrance that contrasts greatly with the warm and damp atmosphere generated by all plant life surrounding them. The sights and smells around them are familiar, reminding Solomon of memories from past years.
As they traveled, Solomon occasionally glanced over to check on his father figure, seeing how peaceful he was despite being recently slashed across the chest. His skin and clothing had magically healed instantly after asking for healing through prayer, a miracle of faith, which must be what he meant by saying, 'The Holy Spirit saved me.'
It surprised him how the rumors spread themselves further that their founder of this new religion movement has claimed Seth to be both the messiah and false prophet, claiming he is here to lead believers of his new faith out of darkness and into light. But most claim the opposite, believing him to be just a fraud or heretic.
"Seth, can I ask you something?" He started awkwardly, hoping to get some answers from him that only he has: "Are you really the Son of God that the rumors said?" The boy inquired curiously, merely wanting to get information straight from the source itself.
Hearing this question, he chuckled lightly. "I am; do you wish me to prove it to you?" Seth turned his head sideways slightly towards Solomon as they walked closer together, sharing secrets with one another, glancing at the boy with a knowing smile plastered across his lips.
Nodding vigorously, Solomon wanted to see if this man was actually God's Son or just a con man. "I would like to," he said, smiling confidently, believing his request wouldn't be denied regardless of what others say. "What is it you will show me?"
"First, believe in me as your Lord and savior."
"I do," was the young fighter's response to this commandment, smiling proudly at his decision to do so, "I believe in you," repeating those words again like he's confirming their authenticity, "because you are like a father to me," revealing the sensitive truth that he holds dearly.
His father figure nodded. "Good," he praised softly with eyes closed. "Look down at your clothes," he commanded with a smile. "It's not covered with blood anymore, isn't it?" Seth told it humorously, letting out a slight chuckle afterward as they approached their destination ahead.
Confused at this request but doing so anyway, Solomon examined himself carefully only to find the blood that was splattered on his clothes to be already wiped off clean, much to his relief and surprise.
"Woah."
