Chapter One

Transcending Tyranny

“Kill the Tyrant!”

In the central streets of Bayla, thousands of people chanted for their lord’s death. Amaru Shapak stood on the wooden podium that hosted the many men he ordered to be executed. His wrists were bound behind his waist with a high-quality hemp rope and it ran down his cut-filled back to tie his ankles. No matter the struggle, Amaru Shapak would not be able to free himself from the restraints.

As Tyrant of Bayla, Amaru Shapak was responsible for administering the King’s Justice on the citizens of the city. Unlike Igenis where the responsibility of adjudicator and executioner were separate, the title of Tyrant throughout Basilyarhemain gave its holder no limitations as to whom shall be disciplined. This was the original practice when the Kings of Eteria first arrived in Isternyuropa and dealt with their newfound, enormous territory. Amaru Shapak would like to think that he used his privilege for its original intent: to deliver justice in a swift manner and eliminate fragmentation amongst the masses.

“Tyrant!” a female voice from the gathered crowd shouted. “If you hadn’t tried to accept Igenis’ demand, we wouldn’t have a famine for the past half decade. This is all your fault!”

“Yes, the Tyrant has made our sons sticks and our daughters demons,” another female voice said. “He should be punished for his sins!”

Amaru Shapak pursed his lips. If the king had not marched with his vassals’ levies towards Heta, Amaru Shapak would not have been forced to employ children whom had no experience in planting. The bushels of grain throughout Basilyarhemain were all levied to follow the basileal army, so all economies headed south. The addition of the King of Thasos exacerbated the drain of local food, and kids too young to even utter their first sentences were pricked off to the closest farms. They should have improved but the younger generation were too occupied to participate in the daily task. Generations of traditions gone just like that because the young headed for schooling instead of laboring for everyone’s food, and nobody could do anything as it was the King of Thasos’ word. 

“Bring forth knowledge and progress,” the king had declared as one of his first acts upon accession. Amaru Shapak was not alive back then and still he would have been one of the few to support it despite seeing its ramifications. That is the good part of being erudite, knowing that it could improve one’s life and go beyond the means of birthed status. It is a shame it does not focus on the larger picture: of the effects on components larger than the individual.

Amaru Shapak opened his eyes and looked at the crowd. Amongst the people that surrounded the podium he stood upon, not one of them were between the ages of fifteen and twenty-four. Those were the ones who were at the outer reaches of his city, the ones in school.

“Kill him,” the crowd chanted, most were too far off to bear resemblance to the word “synchronized” but some were in sync.

There were two other people besides Amaru Shapak who stood on top of the podium. On the left bottom corner was a tall man who had a black shirt draped over his head, covering all but his two black pupils which were only discernible from the rest of the cloth by the way light refracted on it. A giant axe was held in his right hand and the wide trapezoid-like metal tip was two heads higher than him. The other was a smaller man, even smaller than Amaru Shapak, and had a dirtied white robe as his clothing. On his hands was a book containing what Amaru Shapak was being punished for. He stood to the left of Amaru Shapak at the front center of the podium.

“Murder, thievery,” the smallest of the men in the podium said. “And worst of all, rape.”

Amaru Shapak closed his eyes again and sighed. He knew the maid was trying to provoke him into acting on his senses. The murder and thievery charges would have probably been ignored for the other half of the decade even with the famine still ongoing, but the rape charge that became dozens had prompted the honorable fathers to act upon him. Devoid of any extra men for guarding, Amaru Shapak was wrangled away from his castle and brought forth to the city center. Half the day had passed since then and now as the charges against him were declared, Amaru Shapak could not help but wonder what would have happened if he had gone to the Kardia School for their yearly potential examinations. The Kardia School ranked first in the city of Bayla as most of its students outmatched the others. It had done so for the one thousand and five hundred years the school grounds have existed. Its resources were second to none, as all the noble families gave their sons fresh buns in order to pay off duns.  

Every decade, more and more people were becoming students at schools because those who passed the initial potential examinations had an easier time producing families. Although not all descendants of the school students had the abilities their progenitors possessed, a substantial amount of them retained some. So those who learned how to better use the bow or spear had an easier time hunting. Those who learned how to fallow the fields with better made tools reaped more grain and therefore coins. Most important of all, those who learned how to be stronger than others had an easier time dealing with sickness and other dangers to their lives. This made a healthy body a good body and a refined healthy body a great body.

Amaru Shapak’s family had been part of the initial wave of the families who attended Kardia’s first year. At that time, about a hundred students lived in the school grounds, most of which were from different families as tuition towered the average price of personal tutors. Although not part of the nobility, the Shapak family was nonetheless wealthy. Descended from the Jorahbi Tribe of the Beduwin Peninsula, the Shapak family was filled with merchant sons. When Basilyarhemain extended its rule toward the Jorahbi’s northern neighbors, the Serahbi, the main branch of the family decided to pack their jamals and head north towards the center of Basilyarhemain. As they traded their way past the Provinces of Tajikia, Osmaniya, and Anetaulia, the family’s originally brown skin tone slowly lightened and the traditions from the Beduwin Peninsula soon disappeared. The only traits that they retained were their exceedingly dark brown hair and the practice of having their children kill a thamin as a coming of age rite. The southern lands in the Kingdom of Thasos were the only regions where thamin past the Hayer Mountains grew. Even then, they were not the same thamin as the ones on the northeastern regions of the Beduwin Peninsula. The thamin that lived in Thasos were larger and more dangerous and the Shapak family had lost several otherwise bright members of their family to the horned beasts.

When the Kardia School was formed, the Shapak family left Yuhas and established themselves in the burgeoning city of Bayla. Back then Yuhas was the larger city and closer to the home of the thamin and so the Shapak family found themselves ingrained. With the introduction of the martial techniques from the Kardia School, the Shapak family knew that hunting the thamin would be once again a recurring ritual instead of a lightly enforced tradition. The dangers of locking one’s ribs with antlers half the height of an average man would soon be dismissed through the honing of arrows or quickening of spears.

Amaru Shapak was about thirteen years old when he first saw a man die. Inside the royal library, the bookshelves were twice the size of a man with normal height and ladders were used to get to the top rows. He was searching for one of the more advanced books on mathematics in one of the aisles when he encountered upon a fat man reaching for the top row of a bookshelf. Not even a moment after arriving, Amaru Shapak watched as the wooden steps of the ladder cracked and splintered into several pieces. The fat man fell head first onto the marble floor and made a noise Amaru Shapak had not forgotten. A black tome laid open across the fat man’s stomach, its pages facing the fat man’s shirt. Shrieks from observers blared and Amaru Shapak vowed to never let his eating habits get the best of him lest he got hurt.

Although he pledged to avert dirt forever when he was seven after being sprayed with cow feces, Amaru Shapak begged his father to teach him how to ride horses earlier than usual. He would ride for hours, even coming half the distance between Bayla and Farkas. When out hunting, Amaru would feel the trees, the grass, and the flowers through his nose and know that he chose the right decision to abandon his previous childish deliberations. Amaru Shapak’s love for wildlife was sparked and he concentrated his business on breeding quality horses and other pack animals. He even dabbled in the business of raising the expensive Iuvenis Celerem and sold quite a profit each year. The death of the fat man from the library never stopped lingering in his head and when the slightest plump customer would walk up to him, he had his assistants tend them.

When he was fourteen, Amaru Shapak lost his father and was forced to take over the family business. Growing up deep inside upper Bayla, Amaru Shapak gorged himself on the amount of books available in the royal library several buildings further up his home. The merchant families were allowed to settle around the base of the hill, below the nobility’s extravagant gardens. With the royal library further up the hill, Amaru Shapak labored each day to get there. When inside the royal library, Amaru Shapak read books on mathematics and prepared himself for the inevitable moment of his inheritance. He did not expect it to arrive two decades earlier.

While Amaru Shapak was never close to his mother and sisters due to his constant focus on books and praises from his father, Amaru Shapak still did his best to provide for them. Like a good son of the family would. He gave them gifts for their birthdays and even provided for his sister’s dowry in the place of his father. He took them to the many places money could buy. A visit in Igenis once a year was established and sometimes they even headed back to old Yuhas to visit the family members who stayed or moved back there.    

Amaru Shapak sold a thousand horses on his twenty-fifth birthday, the largest ever in Bayla and possibly even the kingdom. This earned him enough money to monopolize the southern harbors at the coastal side of the city and soon his family’s coffers were filled to the brim. With silver overflowing through his hands each time he dipped them inside the wooden, storage chests, Amaru Shapak set out to go even higher than being the sole ruler of Bayla’s southern docks. Just as he hit the age of thirty-four, Amaru Shapak’s escapades led to him halving his family’s coffers in order to buy the votes for the position as Tyrant of Bayla. While some of his family members were disgruntled by his decision, they knew that by having the family head in control of the city their businesses would flourish.

It was six years since his election by fellow men. In the first year Amaru Shapak reaped the benefits and had his family’s money recuperated. With the advent of an unexpected famine in the second year of his term, Amaru Shapak and his family were not the only ones to be bled dry. With a substantial amount of children attending the schools, the students’ families needed to wait half a decade before whatever skills the students had accrued could help them. This mostly applied to the lower classes as the tuitions for the several schools around the city were not free even though the King of Thasos had it supported throughout his kingdom. All of the students in the schools around Bayla received a monthly stipend that was just enough to fund the objects needed to advance to the next class. The children of the city’s nobility did not escape the impoverished state the rest of the city was receiving. While the lower classes were too proud to ask their sons and daughters to lend them some money for alleviation, the nobility commanded their children to take out portions out of their monthly school stipend. These were used to reimburse the failing businesses of the nobility and to keep the family afloat. If the king was present in Igenis, Bayla would have been relieved of its difficulties as the king was just and caring for his subjects.

That was what Amaru Shapak tried to do. His personal business and family came first but Amaru Shapak knew that the masses were also central to his prosperity. He even started a carpentering business in order to gather traffic for his other enterprises. Not even that, Amaru Shapak himself took the axe to fell the trees, and the hammer and cat’s paw to shape wooden projects. This was his way of trying to gain what martial ability his father wanted him to have earlier on. Although certainly less than what his father desired, Amaru Shapak knew that it was better than nothing. Sitting on the silver throne atop his castle for most of the time, Amaru Shapak knew his belly grew, but when he went out to help his carpentering business, Amaru Shapak had his physique back to just where he liked it: not too fat or thin.

Amaru Shapak opened his eyes and let out two drops of tears. It was the first instance since the angry mob brought him out of his castle. He thought he had done the best he could for everything in the world. He did not steal from the city treasury nor did he perform sexual acts with non-consenting women. Amaru Shapak always paid back. He used his own money to refill the city coffers when it would have reached an uncomfortable amount. Every visit to his women always ended with him leaving ten silver coins on their palms when it should have been only two. Amaru Shapak had not murdered anyone on the rise to his tyrant office, he instead bribed the meager moans of those opposed. Amaru Shapak dispensed justice on the men he executed with the fairest trials second only to the ones given in Igenis, even though it was not required. The charges he was given were actions he was not even able to do. When Amaru Shapak was not reading, he was whoring. When he was not whoring, he was hunting. The three activities made up all of his daily free time; there was no room for ordering men to bring unfamiliar women to him or kill his boisterous opponents. Legal and other issues always took almost all of his day. Amaru Shapak had no energy for committing such atrocities.

The smallest man on the podium closed the book and raised it with his right hand. Amaru Shapak wanted to cry out for mercy but held it back in because he knew the crowd needed someone to blame. If it were not the heavens, it was their lord who was at fault. A single raindrop had not moisten a field for years because Amaru Shapak performed bad actions and angered the gods. Amaru Shapak killed, debauched, and purloined, the activities caused the heavens to revoke their grace on him. Amaru Shapak needed to die.

The sky readied for the mighty decree of the laity: it grew dark.

“Citizens of Bayla, here stands the Heavens’ fallen grace,” the man holding the book pointed his left index finger at Amaru Shapak. “Witness the result of losing the Heavens’ favor.” The man lowered his right hand and motioned for the man wielding the long axe. The axe-wielder approached Amaru Shapak and stood behind his shaking back. “Kneel, Amaru Shapak,” the book-wielding man said, pushing down on Amaru Shapak’s head with both hands. “Lest you want to lose the Heavens’ kindness in the spiritual realm.” Amaru Shapak knelt and although he restrained his tears’ desire to pour onset, he felt a little bit upset. The gods would not have abandoned him in the spiritual life. He was a good man as he did good things. That was all that was needed to hear the Heavens’ approval ring. Why they have not interjected to save him, he would not know. Why they have not let a lone drop of water from the clouds to plop, he would not know. What he did understand was that the Heavens wanted for him to be a sacrifice. He could not refuse the Heavens. Amaru Shapak felt the axe rise and the back of his neck became cold. The man who held the book already moved back. “The Heavens demanded it!”

Within a blink of an eye, the head of Amaru Shapak was severed from the rest of his body. First it hit the edge of the podium, then it rolled towards the feet of those at the front below. “Praise the Heavens!” one of the people on the front row yelled before stepping on the disconnected head of Amaru Shapak. Soon others started doing the same thing. A couple of people reached into the podium and dragged Amaru Shapak’s decapitated body down to the cobblestone earth. Several people tore the limbs from the torso of Amaru Shapak. Some of them started biting on his flesh.

The white-robed man placed the book against his heart with both hands. He grunted and spat on the podium. “God damn these animals.”

Like any ridiculous regulations, many lost their lives to the antsy summer. With one last washing wave, the weight of fastened spring would fall. Thunder thumped the ground, generating thin and thankless growls from the multiple corporeals around. The horses neighed, the cows mooed, the boardawns squealed, and the chickens clucked.

“You!” a woman pointed at a young girl. “Close the damn doors and windows, do you want to lose this week’s pay?”

The young girl left the room with a brisk pace. Inside the clay-supported room, the master of the house was lain over a high-quality wooden bed that redeemed what was otherwise a plain environment. Its silken sheets seduce comfort, and the dark brown logs that made up the bed frame held the down with plenty of support around.   

“Sara…” a male voice said after the young girl had departed. Two people in the room were left: a woman on the bed and a man wearing a white robe on the corner of the room.

“What is it cousin Fokos?” the woman on the bed asked.

Fokos walked towards the bed and held Sara’s right hand. “Sara, I’m—”

Sara twitched and Fokos moved back, their hands disintegrating the hold. “Fasa, get Mother Jes!” Sara shouted just as the previous young girl returned to the room. The young girl turned to face the door again and sprinted. “Fokos, help Mother Jes with the bowl.”

Fokos nodded and exited the room.

“Hey boy, can you hear me?” a female voice said.

Where was that voice coming from. It sounded like a young female’s. A seductive angel.

“Boya, it’s from me,” the female voice stated. “Listen carefully. I’m inside your spiritual domain.”

Spiritual domain, the afterlife?

“Yes Boya,” the voice answered. “Now, listen carefully. You need to start crying soon or the mistresses will start become suspicious and brand you as a devil child.”

Devil child. Crying soon. What is the need for crying.

“Your name is Ferm, right?” the female voice asked. “Fermboi, from Sitchan? Open your eyes quickly!”

Fermboi opened his eyes and he was greeted with three faces. The one on the left was a beautiful young woman’s and she sported a wide smile. In the middle was her contrast, an ugly, wrinkled woman with a frown. To the right was an average-looking man, his black eyes gazing as if right through Fermboi’s soul. Fermboi felt the cold temperature in the room and shivered.

“Fasa, give me the silk cloth,” the old woman ordered the younger one.

“Ferm, start crying,” the female voice said. Fermboi tried to move his head in order to pinpoint where the voice was coming from. “Idiot, I’m inside you. Now start crying!”

Although Fermboi never saw a baby up close due to being the youngest in the family, he did hear their cries when he campaigned against the King of Eteria. The endless wailing of orphaned children. He had heard it enough in and out of the orphanage. Fermboi recalled the memories and tried to sound it.

“Lookit now, the young ‘aster is crying!” the old woman exclaimed as she placed the silken cloth around Fermboi. “Mistress, what do ya think?”

Fermboi was turned to look at another face. It was an expression he had seen many times before: a motherly face. She looked to be between the young girl and old woman’s age. “Oh, I like his hair, it’s the darkest in the family so far.”

“Mistress, all babies have hair like that when they’re born,” the old woman stated.

“Come on now, Mother Jes,” Sara said as she kissed Fermboi’s forehead. Some of her long dark red hair tickled Fermboi. “Don’t ruin my moment.”

“My ‘pologies, mistress,” the old woman said. She signaled for the young woman to come closer. “Come lookit Fasa, look at your younger cousin.”

Sara smiled and motioned for Fasa to come nearer. “You want to hold him?” she asked, placing Fermboi on Fasa’s stretched arms. “Careful, Fasa.”

“Oh, Aunt Sara, he looks so cute!” Fasa said with a giggle as she pinched Fermboi’s right cheek.

“Good job, Boya,” female voice commended.

Fermboi was distracted with the unknown female voice and did not cry out from the pain the pinch induced.

Where was that voice coming from. It sounded distant yet close.

“I told you I’m inside your spiritual domain,” the voice said.

“How do I get there?” Fermboi asked, his mind racing with different thoughts. How can something be inside one’s body. Why is the voice inside.

“Hey look, you can communicate telepathically with ease,” the female voice said. “That’s interesting.”

Fermboi shifted his head from left to right. “Aw, it looks it he wants to come back to mommy,” Fasa said as she handed Fermboi back to Sara.

“How am I doing this?” Fermboi asked.

“I don’t know, but it’s interesting,” the voice said. “If you want to find out more, you have to come inside your spiritual domain.”

“How do I come to this spiritual domain of mine?” Fermboi asked, his mind still trying to figure out what is going on. A spiritual domain separate from the mortal one, the underworlds’ gods had at last shown him their presence. They now pity him for a reason even though he never paid attention to the gods of the underworlds as all his family had focused on were the gods of pain, rain, and grain.

“Think of going inside your body,” the voice instructed. “And no, the gods aren’t showing themselves to you. Anyway, think about when you have to poo.”

“What the hell?” Fermboi blurted out.

“Just do it,” the female voice urged. “That’s the only way.”

Fermboi focused his mind and thought about eating a roasted boardawn. Its prickly hairs scalded off by a campfire’s steam, a boardawn’s hind legs would have taken a whole night to consume in full. He thought of time passing and having to excrete the digested food. He felt a sudden surge of light and his vision was met with blinding radiance. He kept his eyes opened in defiance, in accordance to natural instinct. “What in the world.”

In front of him, a young woman stood with arms crossed over her chest, a great contrast to the naked trees and undergrowth behind her. Fermboi tried to pinpoint her age. Ever since he passed the age of nineteen, he never interacted with females younger than him. As a result, he had a tendency to be picky with sexual partners. A peasant’s dilemma, for if he had been nobility the range would have been without bounds. A boy’s trauma, for if he had lived without the memory of his older sister the wound would not reopen. After some time, he arrived to the conclusion that she must be around sixteen to twenty-two years old. His mind tried to guess with precision before recoiling to the baffling situation he was waking in.

“Who, who are you?” Fermboi asked in a confused tone. He then closed his hands and rubbed them over his eyes. He could not believe what he was seeing. The female in front of him boasted a body that set the standards for Fermboi’s definition of beauty. He did not think it could be surpassed. The way her grey eyes were formed complemented her greyer, thin eyebrows and her even greyer, long, fine hair. Silky smooth and almost the exact color of silk itself. Her cheekbones were high and formed twin valleys that accentuated her luscious, light pink lips. Her slightly upturned, slender nose gave her a sense of superiority that Fermboi found intoxicating.

After focusing on her face, Fermboi looked at her overall appearance. While a big fan of large breasts, Fermboi felt that what the female had for twin hills were more beautiful than all the larger breasts he had seen in his entire life. Neither small nor too big, the female’s chest had two protruding breasts that screamed just about right in Fermboi’s eyes. The perfect size. His eyes gazed lower and fixated on her hips. Slimmer than a nebulosacat, the slender master of the treetops, Fermboi’s mind came upon one of the rarest objects he had seen in his life: an hourglass. With absolute certainty, Fermboi decided right then that after her face and breasts, her waist would be third in attractiveness.   

Fermboi had, in the back of his mind, perceived his perception of the young woman being perfect as far from reality. It was what happened every time he saw an attractive woman beat out the previous one he considered the most arresting. Right then though, he knew that nothing would be topping the flawless female figure in front of him. Her hips screamed birth and her legs put svelte over plump in his mind. In compliance with natural instinct, Fermboi was about to shift his viewpoint to see the last feature of the woman, but she puffed in indignation, a tone that could not be ignored.

“Boya, stop eye-fucking me or I won’t help you,” the female voice commanded. Even with the cursing, Fermboi found her voice alluring and angelic. It started to even sound younger and more ethereal, and it convinced him that it was from the figure in front of him.

“Help me with what?” Fermboi asked, his eyes to her eyes.

“Learning about what’s changed since you died,” the girl stated.

“I died—” Fermboi’s duel with the King of Eteria flashed in his mind. “Then I am reborn? The royal church’s teachings are true?”

“Yes,” the girl replied. “You have been reborn in 3005EC, and in the city of Bayla in the Kingdom of Thasos, one of the many under Basilyarhemain.”

Thasos and Basilyarhemain. These were words he had never heard before. He had heard of Bayla before and he was sure that the large number and two letters were indications of a date. Fermboi took a deep breath. “Why?” he asked.

“The…” the girl began but stopped. “God believed that you should be given another life. You did have outstanding dreams before.”

Fermboi thought of what he wanted to do before he died. He thought of the many: the poor, the weak, and the disabled. He wanted to fight for them after enduring the life-changing event with his parents and sisters. His sisters, his stolen sisters.

“Boya, you should know that your parents and sisters are long dead. Your friends of the rebellion are also no more.”

Dead. Fermboi was supposed to be dead after the battle with the King of Eteria. Fermboi underestimated the martial ability of the king.

“Yeah, you thought that that king would be sitting on his ass all day on his throne,” the girl stated. “You should have known when he was stacking those bricks that he partook in fatiguing physical activities. No matter now, I’m sure you won’t make that mistake again.”

Fermboi sighed. He thought if he could defeat the king, the royal army would rout and he would force the new king into submitting to his demands. He did not expect to be bested in lancing as that was what Fermboi prepared for the most, knowing it would all have to come to that single event. “Yes,” Fermboi said. “Okay, stop reminding me of my previous mistakes. Tell me what the hell is going on with me and this whole thing. Also, who are you? You’re a spirit right, do you have a name?”

The girl pursed her light pink lips and unfolded her arms. She raised her left hand to scratch her left temple. Fermboi winced. “Hmm,” she muttered. “I don’t have a name.”

Fermboi kept his gaze straight into the girl’s grey eyes and opened his mouth. “Surely a girl like you would have a name.”

“Nope, I don’t have one.”

“Shit,” Fermboi cursed. “Does that mean I have to give you one?”

“Look Boya, I may be trapped inside your damn spiritual dominion,” the female’s voice had a lower tone. “But I sure as hell ain’t your damned pet or whatever.”

“Hey, I wasn’t saying you were my pet—”

“Save it, Boya,” the girl declared, her tone filled with finality. “For now you can call me WIM.”

“WIM?” Fermboi asked.

“Yes, it stands for Woman Inside Me,” the girl explained.

Fermboi winced again. “The hell, that name sounds wrong.”

“But it’s practical,” the girl said with a lightened tone. “Come to think of it, I like the word Alyana. You can interpret it as “My god has answered me.” or as “Of the sun.” from where I obviously come from.”

“How did you get that name?” Fermboi’s voice had darkened.

“What, is there something wrong?” Alyana asked, her eyelashes batting.

“There’s only about a dozen people in the world who know that name and I know that they’re all dead now,” Fermboi stated. Many years have passed, all should be dead. He sighed. “Wait, don’t tell me, I just realized that you haven’t opened your mouth since I came here. You know my memories. All of it.”

Alyana broke into a wide smile. “You’re not a dumb rock after all,” Alyana said. Fermboi noted she was using her mouth to speak. Alyana picked up one of the medium-sized rocks under her feet. As she wrapped the imperfect sphere with her right hand, Fermboi had an idea of what was coming next. His expectations were proven wrong when Alyana whipped the rock towards him. He immediately dropped on the floor. “Yeah, I hate rocks.”

“Wow, I thought you were gonna crush it with your hands,” Fermboi uttered in a low voice. “And show your supernatural abilities.” The speed at which the rock was thrown surpassed any arrow speed he had seen. The time it took for her to even perform the action was speed he had never seen before. He only knew to drop down on the floor because he had been feeling an ominous aura from her ever since he materialized in his own spiritual realm. When he looked behind him, he was not sure if the rock missed him by chance as it was nowhere to be found. Fermboi looked down and saw that small red ants were coming closer to his hands. He stood up in haste. “Wow, my hands are bigger,” he said. “Shit, is this my body before I died?”

“Yes,” Alyana answered, her eyebrows raised. “It seems so.”

Fermboi’s eyes moved onto his arms. Stilled toned. “Wow, compared to my chubby baby arms, I look like a damned royal guard!” Fermboi exclaimed and then his eyes wandered down to his legs and feet. “Oh man, my legs. My glorious legs!”

“Boya, stop fretting about your body,” Alyana commanded. “Tell me what you see. Look at me again, am I actually a girl?”

“Can’t you see what I see or think what I think?” Fermboi asked as he looked at Alyana.

“No, it stopped a couple of moments after you entered here,” Alyana replied.

Fermboi cupped his rounded chin with his right hand. “Hmm, no doubt you’re a girl with that voice now that I’ve heard it from your mouth,” Fermboi stated. “Wait, is your voice and mine the same outside this spiritual realm?”

“Boya, answer my damn question,” Alyana retorted with an irritated tone. “And no, I would not know. You’re still a baby right now, remember. And I haven’t been outside your spiritual realm or outside whatsoever. All I know is that I’ve been here since time.”

“Wait, are you telling me you were born here?” Fermboi asked. “You spent all of your life—”

“Boya, I asked you a question,” Alyana restated. “Stop dodging it and give me an answer.”

Fermboi eyed her from top to bottom once again. His gaze lingered on her breasts for a moment longer and he knew that his guess was correct. This time, no pale arms blocked the full view. “Yes, you are definitely a girl,” Fermboi declared while swallowing air. “A young woman, if you want to be particular about it.”

“Hmm,” Alyana sounded before closing her eyes. “The most beautiful woman in the world, no?” She proclaimed, opening her eyes and staring deep into Fermboi’s soul. Or soul’s soul.

“Y-Yes,” Fermboi muttered, his stare dropping to the ground. The atmosphere that the woman emitted made Fermboi not shiver or vomit, but experience an untasted kind of fraught. He felt the hint of demise intent in her eyes and scowled at what would occur next.

“Relax Boya,” Alyana directed. “I can’t hurt you in your spiritual domain. I tried earlier with the rock. And no, I didn’t miss, I had a sure hit on your back.”

Fermboi raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth wide. “H-How,” he began. “Why would you even try that.”

“Boya, in case you haven’t realized yet, I’m trapped inside here potentially forever,” Alyana stated. “I wanted to see if I could leave when you were knocked out or—”

“Or dead,” Fermboi finished. “That speed was inhuman. You’re a true spirit, possibly even a demon. Are you sure you’re not a demon?”

Alyana laughed. Fermboi winced. “A demon?” she said with an incredulous voice. “Boya, I’m not even remotely a demon.”

“So then you’re a spirit then,” Fermboi asserted. “So you know everything about the world right?”

Alyana grinned, her untainted white teeth glistening under the spiritual realm’s sun. Fermboi winced. “Wincing every time,” Alyana began. “Boya, you’re lucky I’m not fond of clothing. Besides, it’s just me, these trees, and shrubs here. You expect me to make clothing out of such horrid quality resources?”

“No—”

“Boya,” Alyana said, walking towards Fermboi. Before, the distance between them were at least three dozen steps away. Alyana did not cease advancing until there was one step left to complete a face to face.

The moment Alyana started her first step, Fermboi had his eyes fixated on the ground below him. The grass engulfed his feet and reached the top of his ankles. They disguised the brown, nutrient-rich soil. He saw the same ants that approached his hands earlier. Red.

“Look up Boya,” he heard Alyana say. He refused.    

He felt one of her hands cup his chin. Not a moment after, he was forced to level his eyes with hers. Alyana’s mouth was shaped like the letter O. Fermboi knew what it was called only because his friend, the Baron of Fero, taught him to read. Fermboi closed his eyes and sighed. She lessened the gap between them and Fermboi felt her lips on his. Fermboi opened his eyes and was met with Alyana’s livened grey eyes.

“Close your eyes again, Boya,” Alyana commanded as she caressed his right cheek.

Fermboi accepted and not a moment after he did, the kiss ended. “Shit.”

Alyana had moved away a step. “Boya, did you not see you were also naked.”

Fermboi glanced down and saw something protruding. It was the cause for Alyana’s movement. He looked up and met her eyes. “Shits, it’s a natural reaction.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“You did not even feel it rub against my thigh?” Alyana asked, her eyes thinning.

“No.”

“Well, we weren’t even going all the way,” Alyana stated. “I just wanted to see if it was true.”

“My kissing skills?” Fermboi questioned. He felt something touch his penis and when he looked down, he almost fainted.

“If only one could faint or sleep in this world,” Alyana mused as she withdrew her right index finger. “Would have loved to see your face, Boya.”

Fermboi bit his lower lip. “D-Do you wanna try kissing again?” Fermboi could not resist.

Alyana broke into a wide smile. Fermboi winced. “Ha, are you gonna wince when you put it in like you just did right now.”

“O-Of course,” Fermboi said. He frowned and then after a moment, a sly smile emerged from his lips and teeth.

Alyana raised her grey eyebrows. “I don’t like those eyes, Boya.”

“Come on, just another kiss,” Fermboi begged. “It’ll be your second time right? I’ll help you improve.”

“Improve for what?”

“When you get out of my spirit realm,” Fermboi paused. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“You’re saying I could become a human?”

“Don’t you want to be?” Fermboi asked. “I mean, isn’t it terrible to be in servitude to someone for a lifetime?”

Alyana broke into a light laughter. “Boya, your “Weak should not be exploited.” ideology leaks throughout every word you say. You’re a bad orator.”

Fermboi inhaled for as long as he can. “I hate this life,” he stated under his predestined exhale. “First you tease me, then you kill the mood.”

“Boya, you should be happy you took my first kiss,” Alyana expressed, her eyelashes batting at Fermboi. “A beautiful creature like me should never have even met eyes with you. I was just curious.”

In all the times Fermboi had been rejected by women, he either resorted to crying in misery or succumbing to the merciless method of satisfying sexual despondency. Fermboi looked right at the eyes of the most beautiful woman in the world with his eyes hollowed and empty. “Those grey eyes don’t lie, spirit?” Fermboi asked.

Alyana spat on the ground. “As if reducing me to spirit is going to cure your now throbbing heart,” she spat again. “You deserved it, Boya. You got greedy.”

Fermboi smirked before lunging at Alyana and tackling her down the grassy ground.

“How the fuck did you move so fast,” Alyana began, her lower back twinging from a small rock it hit on the way down. “I’ve been practicing my—” She was interrupted by Fermboi’s right hand on her neck. She looked at Fermboi’s face and found no emotion; he would not allow it. “So this is what it felt to the dozen of women you’ve done this to,” she said, communicating back to telepathy. She gazed down at Fermboi’s left hand, already guiding. “I dare you to do it Boya,” she declared. “When I wrangle out of this, watch what’s going to happen to you.”

“What are you gonna do, spirit?” Fermboi asked, his long thin tongue out. “You even said that you can’t harm me. This is my realm. Ah.” Unlike his previous acts, Alyana did not cry out.

“You’re not gonna get the satisfaction.”

“You sure?” Fermboi asked. He was met with silence and he felt something he had only encountered once before. “You spirits are human? How can you be human. Is this not a mind’s trick, your human figure?” Silence again. Fermboi proceeded and locked his eyes at Alyana’s, his smile wide. Although she did not let out any sound, he could discern the little hint of anger on her eyes. “This is what you get for fucking with me, you fucking fairy shit!”

The winds flew by and the waves broke the shore. The sun in Fermboi’s spiritual domain summited. Those who flew with a beak chirped in the trees and those who swam with a beak deposited in the sand. No words were uttered by Alyana and Fermboi. Just grunts.

A sweat dripped down Fermboi’s right cheek. “Ah,” he moaned, collapsing on Alyana’s twin peaks. He grabbed the right breast with his right hand and played with it, his lips nibbling on Alyana’s left light brown nipple.

A massive figure blocked the sun out for an instant. The snakes slithered to their burrows. The albichnumon followed their trail. In turn, the ratels tailed.

“That actually felt good.” Alyana expressed her statement by gripping Fermboi’s head onto her chest. “You let go, Boya.”

Her voice had a sinister tone that chilled Fermboi’s spine. She did not say it through their minds. “You really are easy to manipulate,” she proclaimed as Fermboi tried to wriggle out of her hold. “I’ll let you go in a moment Boya, calm down.”

“What the fuck is your strength,” Fermboi mumbled as he tried overpowering Alyana’s arms.

“I see this feeling now,” Alyana declared as she strengthened her grip. “I can see why men go crazy over it. Your eyes. You should have seen the mirror. A rabid animal.”

Fermboi stopped his struggle and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. “It’s a date I don’t know. Theoretically, I could have gone for thousands of millennia without it,” Fermboi muttered. “It’s an instinct, you know.”

“No, I don’t,” Alyana said. Fermboi felt her hold lessen. He did not bother. “That’s why I allowed you do it to me. I’ve seen it in your memories.”

“Can we do it again?” Fermboi whispered. He did not know what to make of his situation. First, he could not escape a woman’s hold. Second, he could not handle the mental toll.

Alyana smiled. Fermboi felt it. “You sure, Boya?” she asked, her tone doubtful. “You’re a true masochist, huh? Your sister has done you good.”

He lifted his head and looked up her face. “You are mentioning my sister as if she messed me up.”

Alyana caressed Fermboi’s dark brown hair. Fermboi was about to flinch but he was distracted by her voice. “It explains your determination to fight for the weak while raping women like she raped you.”

“Rape me?” Fermboi asked, his eyebrows raised. “A woman cannot rape a man. Violate would be a better term, no?”

“Sure, Boya,” Alyana allowed. She cupped Fermboi’s chin and brought his face above hers. “Yeah, you seemed to have a lot of practice with your sister,” Alyana said. “Almost makes what you had with her acceptable as it made you better with women.” She lead Fermboi’s lips towards hers once again. “It’s okay, Boya,” she whispered into his ears after breaking the kiss. “You can change your whole past now. No need to be bound to something long gone.”

The sun had gone to the left of their position. The sky was tinged with orange. A young nasalis had been careless and fell right on top of a stomos. The nasalis’ light orange fur brightened the murky water. It splashed its hands around, with its swinging tail baiting even more attention. Two thin rows of teeth clamped on the nasalis’ left leg, dragging it down deeper into the muddy water.

“You have questions about what’s happening, right?” Alyana suggested as she brushed Fermboi’s hair between her smooth fingers. “I don’t know everything aside from what I could discern from your memories and several small ones.”

Fermboi had been entertaining the idea that if possible, he would have liked to stay in that position for all of eternity. On top of the most beautiful woman’s chest. Fermboi paused his thoughts for a moment. “Okay,” he said. “What can you tell me about the world. I could understand a little bit of what the old woman and my new mother were saying.”

Alyana sighed and slowed her caress. “They’re speaking Eterian, or the more modern version of it from this city.”

“Could you understand them?”

“Yes.”

“What were they saying?”

“You saw the old woman right?”

“Yes, what about her?”

“She said your hair is messy and should be fixed,” Alyana said as she sifted through Fermboi’s hair.

Fermboi kissed his tongue. “No really, what were they saying?”

“They were just talking about your birth, you idiot,” Alyana said as she flicked Fermboi’s forehead with her right index finger and thumb.

“Ow.”

“That’s all they said,” Alyana assured, resuming her caress. “You wanna go back?”

“Where?”

“To that world,” Alyana said. “Leave your inner spiritual realm. You know time is kind of paused right now with you in here.”

“What?”

“Time,” Alyana pronounced with a delicate tone. “Time is moving more than thousands of times slower than usual for your body as your spirit is in here.”

Fermboi thought about standing up. “But this is my body. My original body. The one before I died.”

“Yes, but even then, the newborn child of that woman is also you,” Alyana stated.

Fermboi paused his thoughts for a moment and looked at Alyana’s eyes. “I think I already know the answer to this, but how can I be my spirit right now if I just experienced pleasuring you?”

Alyana smiled. Fermboi did not wince. “The same way I also felt your seed inside me,” she said with an amused tone. “Some of it is even dripping out right now to the shore.” Fermboi wanted to turn his head away and look back to see but decided against it. “We’re not the spirit you think we are,” she said after a deep inhale of air. “We’re different. I think something between a cross of people and spirits.”

Fermboi lowered his head and rubbed his nose against her chest. Fermboi took that time to take in her scent. It was sweeter than the honey his young self collected. “Damn.”

Alyana’s caress slowed once more. “I think seven thousand years in this world has passed since you arrived,” she said with a smile. “It took you seven thousand years to plant your seed here while out there it takes you usually a couple dozen pumps.”

“The hell?” Fermboi asked, once again wanting to raise his head in examination but deciding against it. Alyana’s silken skin was too comforting. “Really?”

“The sun here has a cycle of twelve thousand years equivalent to yours,” Alyana announced. “It was just before midday when you punctured me.”

Fermboi overwhelmed his desire to stay on Alyana’s chest. He pulled his torso up with his arms laid atop the ground. He fixed his eyes at Alyana’s. “I am deeply sorry for what I have done. I know I said that it was inst—”

“Save it Boya,” Alyana said as she looked away from his gaze. “It was my decision too. I desired it for knowledge.”

Fermboi did not want to accept. “Alyana, I am truly—”

“Boya, I said don’t worry about it,” Alyana said with a firm tone, turning her head back to face Fermboi. “Do you want to fuck for a second time for you to feel better?”

The offer was brushed away by Fermboi, he wanted to correct his actions. Her tone was also filled with annoyance, and Fermboi knew that even their first time was filled with angst. “No,” he said. Alyana lifted her eyebrows. “I mean yes, but no,” he said as he smirked. The smirked disappeared as soon as it appeared. “In truth, I am really—”

Alyana had used her long legs to bring down Fermboi down her chest. His nose hit her left collarbone. “I said save it, Boya,” Alyana reiterated.

“Damn it, why won’t you let me finish?” Fermboi asked, gripping his nose to check for damage.

“There’s nothing to talk about your action or whatever justification you’re going to come up with,” Alyana stated.

“But I really want to apologize,” Fermboi said with a closed nose.

Alyana sighed in annoyance. “Look here Boya,” she said, cupping his chin once again. “If you want to really make it up to me, you have to reach the August Dominion.”

“August Dominion?” Fermboi asked, trying to pronounce the first word properly. “Is that like this spiritual dominion or is it some place?”

“The first one,” Alyana replied. She restarted her stroking of Fermboi’s hair. She took a deep breath. “There are seventeen mortal ranks, each with twelve levels. First it starts at the lowest with the Rang Dominion. Then it goes up Guwerior, Milites, Magister, Dathapatis, Capitenus, Tagmatarkes, Legatus, Strategos, Noyan, Heneral, Spabod, Ferow, Seyai, Shogun, Imperator, and then August Dominion. Seventeen ranks in all and they increase in difficulty after the previous one.”

“Hold up, Milites, Magister, Capitenus, and Legatus,” Fermboi said with familiarity. “I know those ones. Military ranks. The other ones are also military ranks right?”

“Boya, I thought you were trying to sleep,” Alyana stated. “It was impossible for me but it should be possible for you I think, so I thought you were doing it. But yes, those are military ranks. You would have known the word imperator if you lived near the coast. They command ships. The other words are from several other languages.”

“Wait, you said mortal ranks,” Fermboi noticed. “Does that mean there are ranks not for the mortals?”

“Very good,” Alyana said. She ruffled Fermboi’s hair with quick intensity. “There are three holy ranks that follow after the mortal tanks: the Sanctus, Primatial, and Cardin Dominions. They all have seven levels: Ascendancy, Preminency, Comandary, Superiority, Supremacy, Jurisdicy, and Sursury. After that is the last and highest tier: the Divine Realms. This includes the Exemplar, Exalted, Angelic, Palatinus, Descendant, Demigod, Celestial, Heavenly, Glorious Sublime, and Immaculate Eternal Transcendent Realms. Each having also seven levels of: Purview, Range, Authority, Territory, Prepotency, Immensity, and Hegemony.”

“What the hell, that’s so many,” Fermboi remarked. “Those can be bended and not fixed, right?”

“Yes, they’re malleable.”

“Malleable?”

“Able to bend.”

“Oh.” Fermboi said. “Okay so, the holy and divine realm are for non-humans right? That means you spirits?”

“Mhm.”

“Can I get there?”

“Maybe,” Alyana said. “You have to work hard though. No mortal has even reached the August Dominion yet.”

“Really?” Fermboi asked. “Wait, I thought these were military ranks. Won’t the August one be like the king?”

“Oh no, no, no,” Alyana said as she clicked her tongue. “These are martial ranks.”

“Martial ranks?” Fermboi raised his eyebrows. “That’s what I said, military ranks.”

“No, no, no,” Alyana corrected. “What I mean by martial ranks is that everyone has the chance to have inhuman strength. These are determined by the ranks I just described to you and is achieved through the process of long cultivation.”

“Wait a moment,” Fermboi said. “You mean I have to farm every time to get the higher rank?”

Alyana slapped Fermboi’s right ear like a newborn baby’s swipe at their mother’s face. “Let me finish Boya,” she said. “Cultivation is the process of straining yourself so that you advance to the next level. This is usually done by cutting down trees or repeatedly hitting a wooden dummy. The fastest way to get to the next level is actually by defeating demons.”

“Demons like you?” Fermboi asked in a joking tone, and although he did not believe demons were real, he knew that they would soon be. After all, he can feel the spirit he is on top of.

“Yes, boya,” Alyana concurred with a sad tone. “These demons ravage the land and although there are armies to fight them, a small group or lone fighters are usually sent to engage them since they multiply by the number of opponents they are fighting.”

“Are you telling me armies are useless and demons are everywhere?” Fermboi asked with disbelief. All people had to worry in his previous life were poor harvests and barbaric Magiars along with the occasional plains wolf.

“No, not entirely everywhere,” Alyana corrected. “Most of these demons are locked entirely in caves and cemeteries. They feed off the soul of other spirits and grow.”

“Okay,” Fermboi said. “Those are too scary, can you do cultivation mentally, like by reading books or something? This sounds like the story of Lego. There are demons in the world but he defeats them through reading ancients texts or whatever.”

“There’s also that way,” Alyana said. “But it’s akin to felling trees or striking sham sheeple.”

“Sham sheeple?” Fermboi asked. He had no idea what does words meant.

“Fake people. Dummies. The wooden dummies I was talking about earlier.”

“Oh.”

“There are also pills but those harder to acquire as you have to be a Pellet Practitioner and that’s a whole other way of life filled with its difficulties,” Alyana said. “Most people just fight each other to improve though, through schools and such.”

“So those schools are essentially arenas,” Fermboi determined. “Like the one in Sitchan.”

“Mhm, but in a larger scale and with more free will.”

“People die there, right?” Fermboi questioned.

“Of course, what did you think?” Alyana said. “Some people get careless, others want revenge for some reason or another.”

“But I don’t want to die again.”

“Well, you have no choice unless you want to spend ten years chopping trees just to move up one rank.”

“So you’re saying I’m supposed to fight numerous battles to improve my strength?”

“No, you could also meditate.”

“What’s that?”

“You basically sit and clear your mind for a while and then you absorb the world’s energy.”

“Is this like the story of Navita and the gods’ planets?”

“Well yeah, pagan beliefs do have some base in the world.”

“You say pagan as if you were part of another religion.”

“I am.”

“The royal church?”

“Mhm.”

“I knew it, only they would say the word pagan.”

“You guys are godless.”

“But we have dozens, if not hundreds, of gods!”

“Godless, as in not having my god as yours.”

“How can you have a religion if you’re a spirit?”

“I don’t know, I was just born with this thinking.”

“Huh.”

“I know, it’s weird how I know certain stuff in addition to your memories.”

“Proof that you’re not just my spiritual embodiment?”

“Shit, just think about that, having sex with your own self.”

“Yes, that’s basically rubbing yourself.”

“Wait what, you mean—I remember now, don’t even say anything.”

“What?”

“I haven’t done it in the thousands of years I’ve been here.”

“You didn’t make the connection or forgot?”

“You don’t have memories of a girl doing it and I assumed the girl who told you she did it was only joking.”

“Why would my sister joke?”

“Because she’s a funny one.”

Fermboi looked at Alyana with thinned straight lips. “Can we never mention her again?” he requested in a sad tone. “I feel like having a breakdown whenever she’s mentioned.”

“The abuse part?” Alyana asked. “Or the fact that she’s dead like everyone in your past life.”

“Both.”

“Huh.”

“I got a new family though, right?” Fermboi’s voice had become livelier. “That should be something.”

“Yeah, they’re not bad,” Alyana said, jutting out her lower lip. “I don’t think you need to fallow a field again.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“It feels really easy to discard everything,” Fermboi said with a somber voice. “I feel like I’m having hallucinations right now. I don’t even think this is real.”

“Because it isn’t.”

“Huh?” Fermboi asked in a surprised tone. “Are you my consciousness?”

“Yes.”

Fermboi left Alyana’s embrace and stood up. She did the same. “I never fucked a goddess,” he stated. “And I never spoke as if I was an intelligent person?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh, Iova, please do not send me to Dives’ domain,” Fermboi said as he started crying. “Iova, I prodded and pulled for the weak. Why must I be sent in mental hell?”

As Fermboi knelt and closed his eyes, he heard a loud splash behind him. He turned to face its location. A humongous creature with scaled skin jutted out from the ocean’s surface. It removed the ocean from Fermboi’s line of sight and covered all traces of the unknown depths by having its glistening protective plates along the shore’s full width. It was of a darker blue hue of the ocean’s surface. It had two large eyes, both slitted in the manners of a lyzan’s. Its nose were smaller than the eyes but still large enough to fit ten times Fermboi’s whole body along its circular rims. Its long mouth opened and revealed box-like teeth filled with long, pasty green matter. Its ears were nowhere to be found. Fermboi stared at the creature as the sun overhead rose and descended enough times that the stomos who had eaten the young nasalis earlier died and as did its greatest grandchildren, ending their line.

The towering brute puked. Fermboi tried to put his right arm over his face for protection but he was too slow. Yellow goo covered his body. “What the hell is this?”

“I think that’s Jino’s way of approval,” Alyana said as she stood beside him. She was not covered with the yellow sludge.

“How in the hell were you not covered in this goo?” Fermboi asked as he looked around him. Everything but Alyana was covered in the yellow muck.

“This here is the second spiritual creature in this place,” Alyana said, dodging Fermboi’s question. “I’ve fought him many times and he’s worthy enough.”

“Y-You w-w-what?” Fermboi stumbled on his words. “You mean to tell me you fought this gigantic creature?”

“He’s only a small portion of the ocean,” Alyana stated. “Not that big.”

“Not that big?” Fermboi said in an incredulous tone. He did not want to believe it. “Wait, how many spiritual creatures are in here?”

“Three.”

“You, this guy, and who else?”

“Anlago,” Alyana replied. “He’s shy and he isn’t really that worth the hassle.”

“What do you mean he isn’t worth the hassle, do you know where he is?”

“He’s probably somewhere in the sky,” Alyana said as she pointed upwards. “You can ask Jino here to search for him. He’s better in flying than Anlago, even though Anlago is specialized for it.”

“T-This creature flies?” Fermboi asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, you want me to ask him?” Alyana asked as she turned to face Fermboi. She smiled at him. “Actually, I think he’ll only respond to you now since he considers you to be his master.”

“Really?”

“Just go ask him, Boya,” Alyana said as she rolled her eyes.

“Jino is his name, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Is that really his name?” Fermboi asked. “Or is that the name you gave him?”

“What do you think?”

“Nevermind,” Fermboi said as he shook his head. “Jino, can you find, um, Anlago, or the flying creature this woman,” Fermoi pointed at Alyana, “is talking about? Wait, can you even understand us?”

The ocean-spanning creature made a deep rumbling and Fermboi widened his eyes. Jino’s body began moving towards the sky and water started flowing off his scales. They made a resounding sound as they hit the ocean surface that was covered before. Fermboi had no words for the sight that was the water falling from the increasing height.

“Boya, I think that’s yes,” Alyana said with an amused tone. “That’s called a waterfall, by the way. Some people sit under one to cultivate.”

Fermboi did not reply. He stared at the white underbelly of Jino, a deep contrast to the dark blue everywhere else in the body. It left Fermboi’s mouth open. “What a beautiful creature.”

“I personally like Anlago’s look even though he’s much weaker,” Alyana declared. “Don’t expect him to come back for a long time. Anlago likes to hide in the sky’s crannies.”

Fermboi faced Alyana. “Wait, what’s the purpose of having spirits inside me?”

“Most of the time they’re just there to devour your spirit,” Alyana stated. “Some play, usually with the dead children. A lot can’t communicate and just wander around. Others don’t care about anything. A small portion also likes aiding their host.”

“Like you?”

“You could say that,” Alyana said. “Most of the time it’s for mutual benefit though. Spirits who can communicate clearly are extremely rare too, so it’s not like they make hundreds of people better than others. Usually around a dozen, I think.”

“Wait, if what I’m getting is correct, there’s mindless ones, ones who can’t communicate but are not mindless, and then there are those who are smart and can also communicate?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m guessing the mindless spirits are the demons out in the real world.”

“Actually, it’s split in half,” Alyana corrected. “Half mindless and half decent intelligence.”

“The latter are the ones who cause trouble the most?”

“Of course.”

“Huh.”

“By the way, you need to be at least Guwerior One to stand a chance against them,” Alyana warned. “It’s actually not even that hard to attain, most of the world’s soldiers and guards are that rank.”

“Rang, Guwerior, Milites, Magister, and then Dathapader?” Fermboi asked as he recounted how the ranking goes.

“Dathapatis,” Alyana corrected. “You want me to tell you how to easy it is to attain them?”

“Sure,” Fermboi replied. He had no idea what the length of progress was supposed to be.

“All of Rang’s levels can be attained in under a year if you seek it,” Alyana proclaimed. “The vast majority of people stay in this rank because they either don’t care enough or they can’t advance enough. Now, Guwerior Dominion is where people get in trouble. Most of the martial students and soldiers are at this rank and stay in it. That’s how hard it is to advance.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Fermboi interrupted. “Seventeen ranks and only two ranks have the most people in it?”

Alyana placed her right index finger on her closed lips. Her eyes grew. “Shush,” Alyana said. “Stop interrupting me. Anyway, Milites Dominion is achievable in like five years if you’re part of the royal and basileal armies. Magister is the rank where you’ll probably end up at, but I have hope. It’s where most people stop and nobles are usually at this rank. It takes a decade to conquer. Dathapatis, on the other hand, takes twice the amount and usually reserved for military leaders of the border areas between the vassals of the Basileus. Capitenus Dominion takes thirty years and are usually held by military leaders in charge of a sizable city. These people are only under the nobles in total ownership of the city. Tagmatarkes takes forty years and most of them are concentrated in the basileal capital. These are also the exceptional nobles, so you should at least reach this rank. Legatus Dominion contains the commanders near the foreign borders, these are people who have spent half a century cultivating. Strategos is where literally most people stop, noble or not. It takes ten more years than Legatus to reach Strategos Twelve, but that’s more than enough for anything. The elders of the martial schools are all in this rank.

“Noyan rank is where most royals are at and take around seventy years for a normal person to get to. Royals have better resources for cultivation and usually attain this by thirty years old. It also where most exceptional people cap out. Heneral Dominion takes eighty years and I’m pretty sure most people not of noble blood would be dead at this time. These are the generals of the armies who are deceptively strong despite old features. Some royals are at this rank and they’re usually fifty years old, so they end up being the commanders. Spabod Dominion is only held by around a dozen people and you better thank yourself for the noble blood you’re given as this takes ninety years to conquer and you’d be near death if you’re a common man. Ferow takes a century and this is mostly attained by the royal church’s high ranking leaders who have way too much free time to cultivate. Three people are usually at this realm in one time, with the highest being maybe Ferow Twelve and the lowest Ferow One. Seyai is the requirement to be Head Generals of Basilyarhemain and it takes one hundred and ten years for even the best of all the commoners, so royals around eighty years old are the ones monopolizing the military rank. Shogun Dominion is the Basileus’ rank himself and it takes one hundred twenty years, theoretically, for a normal person and we both know that’s never going to happen. The Basileuses are usually at Shogun One, and only one has ever reached Shogun Twelve, Minamotius the First, and so it’s a dream to even reach Imperator Dominion. I estimate a normal person could take one and a half century to even breach Imperator One. August Dominion should take two centuries to reach, so you’re fucked and I was just fooling around.”

Fermboi had his face saddened each rank after Strategos Dominion. “Why?”

“It’s fun getting your hopes up,” Alyana stated with confidence. “You look like the type.”

Fermboi growled and tackled Alyana to the ground. Using each hand, he locked her arms to the ground. “Why give me false hope?”

“So I can give myself false hope,” Alyana said with a sad grin. “I want to escape this damned place one day. It isn’t right for me.”

“Fuck,” Fermboi said as he loosened his grip on her arms.

“You want that offer to get rid of your anger?” Alyana asked with a sad voice while smiling.

Fermboi rested his head on her chest and allowed his hair to be ruffled once more. He had his eyes closed while torrents of water flowed from his eyes. “Why did I get reborn and then meet a crazy, manipulative woman right at the start.”

“That’s life, Boya,” Alyana said as she started singing. “In the land of the strong, there stood a boy who wanted to prove them wrong. The boy said, “Why can’t we all get along?” People around him said that he was chanting a song. Of the impossible. Of the irresistible. But nonetheless unattainable. The boy grew and ignored. As he threw himself at distractions, he became bored. So he took the spear, and declared war on his lord. When God Himself came, the boy was destroyed and sent to the void. But God hath mercy and made the boy overjoyed.”

“What a wonderful song,” Fermboi said, eyes not wanting to open even though the tears had stopped. “I wonder who it could be about.”

“Some boy, probably,” Alyana said as she continued stroking Fermboi’s hair. “You want to go back out there now?”

“No,” Fermboi replied. “Let me wait a while.”

The sun in Fermboi’s spiritual domain fell and rose more than a thousand times again. The breathing of Alyana, the gusts of wind and crashing of water, and the music of wildlife were the only sounds to Fermboi’s ears.

“If you don’t accept the offer, I’ll force it on you,” Alyana said in a soft voice.

Fermboi opened his eyes and looked at her. “Really?”

Alyana flicked Fermboi’s forehead with her right index finger and thumb. “Yes, now just close your mouth.”

Another set of a thousand years passed by. Generations of the animals in the spiritual domain went by and what were once a certain creature looked downright different after the passing of time. The stomas had grown larger as the nasalis consumed more of the enlarging fruits. All that was heard were calmed grunts and moans that never wanted to stop.

“Should I go back now?” Fermboi asked as Alyana shifted her head on his chest.

“Mhm,” Alyana replied with closed eyes. “Unless you want to be bored to death with me here.”

“Aside from endless fucking?”

“Aside from that, of course.”

Fermboi placed Alyana’s head on the ground slowly. “Okay, I’m going now.”

“You don’t know how to do it?” Alyana said without opening her eyes. She had a wide grin.

“No, and I’m assuming you know?”

“Think about when you have to pee.”

“How’s that different from having to poo?”

“You can drink your own pee for survival,” Alyana stated. “Can you do the same to poo?”

Fermboi shook his head. “I can’t believe an angel like you is using these words.”

“Don’t tell me you think noble girls and princesses never discuss pooing and peeing?”

Fermboi let out a sigh. “Okay, I’m going now, I think I can feel it.”

“Good,” Alyana said.

For a moment silence was all there was. “I can’t believe I’m leaving my angel,” Fermboi said as his body disappeared from his spiritual domain.

“I’m more than an angel,” Alyana declared.

Light blinded Fermboi again. As before, he kept his eyes opened in noncompliance.  

“Oh Aunt Sara,” Fasa said with admiration. “He really is too cute. I like the way he moves his arm.”

“Fasa,” Sara began. “Don’t tell me you wish to betroth my son?”

Fasa blushed and gave an awkward smile. “Oh come on, Aunt Sara,” she said with a defeated voice. “You know my father has already set my wedding for next year with the little duke.”

Sara laughed. “Ah yes, I heard he’s a good lad, you should be well.”

Fasa nodded as she pinched Fermboi’s baby cheeks. “Oh look, I think he wants to feed now,” Fasa said as she handed Fermboi over to Sara.

“Hush, my son,” Sara said as she positioned her right breast in front of Fermboi’s mouth. “Mommy’s milk is coming.”

Fermboi’s crying stopped when he bit on Sara’s nipple. “Sara,” Fokos said with a solemn tone. “I don’t want to say this at this time…”

“What is cousin Fokos?” Sara asked, looking at Fokos with expectant eyes. “What’s the matter?”

“Your husband,” Fokos began, “was executed earlier in the center plaza.”

Sara’s hold on Fermboi vanished and he fell on her stomach.

“What did you say Fokos?” Sara asked.

Fokos gulped. “Amaru has been executed.”

Fermboi looked at his new mother and saw tears threatening to fall. He tried squirming into a better position but it was no use. “Why was he executed?” Sara said after tears marred her clothing and spotted Fermboi’s almost-transparent pinkish skin.

“Charges of rape, murder, thievery,” Fokos replied in a mournful tone. “All blankets for the blame on the gods’ famine.”

“Famine, fucking famine,” Sara said as she positioned to stand up.

Fasa had grabbed Fermboi before Sara stood up. “Careful, Sara, you’ve just given birth, you can’t move yet,” warned Mother Jes. “Don’t take a step, you won’t like it.”

Sara refused and put her right foot forward. She fell down but was caught by Fokos and Mother Jes. Fermboi started crying.

“Oh lookit Sara,” Mother Jes said. “Your boy is crying and you haven’t given him a name yet.”

Sara widened her eyes and look upwards at Fermboi. “Fatumoyira,” she said. “You’re my fate. You’re your father’s fate. You’ll get revenge on these people, won’t you?” Sara resumed her crying and put her right hand on her mouth. She closed her eyes. “No, not revenge. That’s from an ancient age. It is time to forgive and live anew. We will let it pass, but it will never be forgotten.”