Henri’s question stirred something within Astria—a thought that had been in the back of his mind. He recalled the teachings of his family to him and the same to what all the villagers believed, the prayers that spoke of reality and illusions, and so he answered the question as such. This was the essence of Astria’s answer—a reflection of things he did not fully understand.
‘To live in ignorance is a comfortable lie, to seek truth is a treacherous path, but why not make the illusion become the truth?’ Astria thought in his mind.
“Illusions becoming reality… a compelling thought, so you would seek the truth and replace them?” Henri said, his voice low and contemplative.
“I just kinda derived it from our prayers.”
Henri’s gaze turned intense, almost probing. “What if I told you, Astria, that our reality is already a carefully crafted illusion? That what we perceive might not be the full truth, but a veil over something far more sinister?”
Astria abruptly stopped walking after hearing those words, a searing pain suddenly erupted in his head. Henri’s words seemed to twist into sharp, piercing needles, burrowing into his mind. His heart pounded violently, each beat like a hammer against his ribcage. Unspeakable noises entered his mind ravaging his existence, igniting a bloodlust he couldn’t control., wanting to slaughter living things.
With the intense pain and nausea, he dropped on the ground while convulsing and screaming. His vision blurred, what he see at that moment was the world burning and filled with bloodshed, a burning crimson eye above the sky was looking down on him, a horrifying spectacle that driven him to insanity. But amid the chaos, the flames suddenly subsided, and reality snapped back into focus. Astria panting, his vision now was glitching, shifting from his normal view to the shades of sinister red. He looked up and saw Henri with glowing crimson eyes, which supposed to be brown. He was smiling and staring at Astria seemingly happy.
His vision snapped into sharp focus. The pain subsided and he regain his strength to stand.
“Are you alright, boy?” Henri extended a hand, his voice oddly cheerful.
“Y-yes,” Astria stammered, grasping Henri’s hand and pulling himself up. “It’s just… my head suddenly hurt a lot.”
“You must have a fever? Your mother would be worried if you do haha, hurry up we need to go home now!” Henri said in an enthusiastic tone and continued to walk.
“Yeah…” Astria muttered, trying to shake off the lingering pain. “Grandfather, what was it that you said?”
“It was nothing. Don’t think about it,” Henri replied dismissively, resuming their walk.
“Is that so… okay”
‘As if! You just said something out of ordinary and cause me to almost die and then asked me not to think about it?’ Astria thought but of course he didn’t said out loud.
In a few more minutes, they were infront of the village entrance. They passed the two wooden gates that layed opened. After, entering the gate they saw Old Meri on the small porch of his house, raising his hand, gesturing them both greetings. Henri responded with the same, while Astria bowed a bit towards him. The straight path led them towards the tavern, a few hundred steps away.
As the sun dipped below the western horizon, casting long shadows, the tavern bustled with activity. Entering through the back door, they made their way to the basement, where they deposited the meat in the pantry. Astria then headed to the stream behind the tavern, scrubbing away the grime and filth that clung to him.
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Cleaned up, he returned to the tavern to help. He served food and cleared tables, moving deftly among the patrons. The tavern was nearly full, with about twenty people gathered, though Astria noticed the absence of the bard who had visited recently not the merchant and a few others who had arrived a few days before. Well it was a common thing, for Astria and the villagers know that foreign visitors doesn’t stay too long in the village. But now that Astria think about it, he wondered why?
Then, the conversation from a nearby table caught his ears, they were talking about Phil, the farmer that was telling the tale of his drinking escapade.
“Phil and his family are missing?”
“I was going to consult him something about the crops we will be planting next season but I can’t seem to find him anywhere in the village nor his wife and children. Even his other relatives doesn’t know where they went.”
“That’s strange…. No one would probably leave the village knowing the coming festival.”
“Indeed Phil wouldn’t probably leave the village out of no reason, I wonder why.”
Astria knew that people leaving was not out of ordinary; people leave for various reasons, and over time, despite the population had thinned noticeably. Only more than a hundred now, which used to be thrice of that when he was younger. It wasn’t something anyone would worried about. However, Astria now thought of it differently, it was intriguing to him, questioning in his mind as to why did none of those who left ever came back? It was an odd thing that made him uneasy, as if something wasn’t quite right. That it seemed all of a sudden he kept on noticing many peculiarities and that many unusual thoughts are flooding into his mind.
He was born and has lived for more than a decade in this village, never leaving far from it nor going to any other places. But why does these things that used to seem ordinary was unsettlingly slowly turning to out of the ordinary?
Perhaps, maybe he was just merely overthinking too many things he shouldn’t, he shook his head and slapped his face, trying to regain control of his thoughts. He continued his work, collecting the used wooden tankards on the tables and putting them on the bar counter. Thinking that he will wash these later in the stream, then more will be added to it together with the used plates and utensils. Another thought came into his mind:
‘Although I’m really thankful, why do people stubbornly drink so much that it could probably kill them and eat here in the tavern when they could just cook for themselves?’
Of course he didn’t said it out loud. Perhaps due to the many thoughts processing his mind he just can’t…..
The hands of the clock moved unnoticedly, he had done everything he needed to do, despite it being tedious and time consuming.
Astria on his bed, staring at the ceiling of his room. He started recalling the things that happened earlier, the things his grandfather said and the vision he saw.
‘A reality crafted out of illusion? Was that a truth?’
Those were simple words yet by merely hearing it tormented him. As if just by knowing a truth you shouldn’t know, would result in insanity and bloodlust.
It was something very similar to a person dreaming, that at first he didn’t know he was in a dream and once he realized it, he will wake up and see the reality.
‘Then does that mean what I saw was a reality? Where the world was engulfed in a raging fire and a crimson eye staring at it intensely from the distant sky.’
The more he think about it, the more it is intriguing to him. Knowing that there are mysterious things he didn’t know about just made him feel a bit drawn to it. And another thing, which he certainly doesn’t know much about is what does has to do with their beliefs?
‘As far I know, there’s not much that I know about the God, me and the entire village believes on. But I know for sure, He’s someone that is possibly related to illusions.’
Astria doesn’t even know the name of the God he was worshiping. The only thing he honestly know was the prayer and doesn’t know anything else deeper than it— now that he realized, it was also something that is rather unusual.
‘Am I really a believer? Wait, in the first place, are Gods even real?’
He sighed feeling that his belief might be lacking, should he be burned to ashes, if the God was real and knows about him.
‘Regardless, I only know what I know and that basically not everything. The rest is for me to discover.’
Thinking that the important thing now was that he gained insight as to why knowing the truth could change the life of a person— it changes the perception of them towards the world.
Astria’s rough understanding about the concepts is that: the people who don’t know the truth are ignorant. They are people that cannot find the difference between reality and illusion. Then by knowing a truth could changed them to someone who is awakened.
‘Perhaps the reason why I kept on seeing unusual things was because of this? But if barely knowing a truth could change a person so much, why can’t all people just know the truth?’
‘Is there something that thwarts people from knowing them? Or only people who can know the truth should know of it? If so, then what would happen if a person who doesn’t deserve to know, accidentally discover it?’
Astria pondered deeply but couldn't find any answers to his own questions from the limited knowledge he had. He raised his right hand to his face, examining the calloused and rough skin. He clenched it into a fist, feeling the familiar toughness.
“I only know what I know.” He said faintly.
His gaze shifted to the ceiling, where cobwebs swayed gently in the breeze drifting through the window—a daily sight that had become all too familiar to him for seeing everyday in his life.
‘Why do I feel so anxious? Everything still feels so wrong…. even this cobweb.’
‘Well I guess it is…… I will definitely removed you tomorrow’