We cannot grow in a vacuum, but like paint, lessons must dry before additional layers are painted.
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Time. The source of all bane, all of Reginn’s bane. If only he had more time.
It seemed that his wish had been granted in a strange way. A thousand-pace radius bubble was created around the colosseum, stopping time for all objects within. Even though Reginn himself was immune to all magic, including this spell, the frozen air prevented him from moving. However, he did not need air to survive, or to think.
Think. That was what the spell-caster mentioned.
Deep within his heart, a small voice rejected this notion. For he knew that thinking would only shake his faith in the Goddess further.
He knew the Goddess was a liar, he just did not want to believe in it.
About the Goddess:
He knew that the Goddess did not know best, but simply pretended so in order to garner respect and stability. In that aspect, Reginn was just like his mother. In the end, perhaps all of them were still children.
How much longer could he maintain this facade? He truly wanted to believe in the Goddess, to fully invest in her cosmology. In the end, he did not want to grow, but to stay as the Goddess’s child forever.
However, it seemed that all birds must leave their nest, and with the Goddess now sealed, perhaps he would be the last to do so.
This was most likely why the other children had left, to build their own nests.
Reginn did not despise or blame his mother. He still loved her and was hellbent on bringing her back, but before that, he would need to grow and change in this world absent from the Goddess. Perhaps this was the only place he would be allowed to grow.
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About Sivrit:
Sivrit reminded him a bit of the Goddess and the Caretaker as well. They all shared a definite, human aura, though the Goddess’s true nature was hidden behind layers of art. Sivrit was much more straightforward. She was a good human, and if she had been born in his time, she would’ve most likely lived a quiet, content life, most likely dying of disease or natural causes. However, it seemed in this modern world, life was more complex than ever. Individual humans mattered, especially their identity. Reginn could not even remember the human closest to him of his era but could remember Sivrit’s name.
There was much to learn of this difference in time. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, she had known much more about this world than he, and perhaps he wanted to stand as equals.
About Execution:
And so, perhaps he did not know enough about executions than he had previously thought. To him, it was a simple discarding of garbage, a daily routine. Innocents died every day, so why did it matter when criminals were executed? Is the world not a better place without them? However, from Sivrit’s perspective, this was a more complex problem than a simple sum of all good minus the sum of all evil.
Attila had not yet done anything wrong, but it was his bias that disregarded her life. No, it wasn’t even simple dehumanization, but his unwillingness to take risks for the sake of those as insignificant as her.
Kyriekaos on the other hand… he knew so little about her, and it seemed that she knew as little as him. Now, he couldn’t help but feel sympathetic, both of them monstrous children, so unknowledgeable of the world they were born into. Incomplete.
About Salvation:
Perhaps there was some way everyone could be happy… but Reginn knew that sacrifices must be made to bring good. Initially, the sacrifice was to be Attila, but as Reginn saw Sivrit’s expression, and reminisced about the time she shared her memories of her friend, he knew that it had to be him.
He had to be the hero Avangarden needed, not what he believed it needed.
Conclusion:
…Reginn stood with conviction. He knew what had to be done. In the back of his mind, he had already prepared a plan, though he never predicted he would use it.
The hero knew what must be done, but before that, he wished to speak with Sivrit.