Forbidden Paradise. "Where the world leads me"
Chapter: 0 "My thoughts on life"
"In the embrace of eternal oblivion, one finds solace from the monotony of life's repetitive dance." - Sylvia Evergreen
It was a chill-inducing winter evening. As always, the streets of the northeastern part of Ekaref were covered in snow, trampled on by travelers and merchants passing through the capital, all in pursuit of paintings and perhaps some good time with the street girls.
Walking through the streets, I traversed a dark alleyway filled with the pungent smell of stale beer and steak. I met the gaze of the people passing by, their eyes were far from alive, as though all their dreams of a bright future and great opportunities had long been lost in the repetitive day-to-day life.
For them, no colors remained in this dull world to enjoy, nor the leisure to stay up late at night to gaze at the Moon and its subjects. All that was left for them to gaze upon was a large, emotionless factory building spewing smoke and dumping waste into the river.
Ahead of me, a young lad, not even twelve, was collecting withered leaves and discarded newspapers. He appeared cheerful despite having a skinny and small build, likely a new scavenger hired by wealthy men or the local government for minimum wage to clean the neighborhood. I was convinced this lad would not live past his mid-twenties if he continued working as a scavenger.
Looking below the bridge, I saw mud-larks collecting valuables among the piles of garbage on the banks of the Vaisa River. Once a beautiful sight to behold, an inspiration for many famous artists who came to Ekaref, she was now nothing more than a dumping site.
It was disappointing and depressing to see humans destroying nature to gain whatever conveniences they needed and all I could think of was how similar of a life I have led. Doing anything to gain a better position at work, that was how I lived.
But having a better-paying and more stable job than those factory workers, who looked like they had risen from random graves, didn't mean I was enjoying life. In fact, no matter how well-paid I was, enjoyment and life never seemed to fit well in one sentence for me. Being middle class didn't mean escaping the repetitive daily schedule.
The only escape for me from this colorless world was books, one of the luxuries us middle class could afford.
In the end, even they started to feel repetitive.
Chapter 1 "The book of past"
When even books started to get repetitive, a change was brought to my life for better or for worse, I didn't know for sure.
It was a small book, "The Forbidden Paradise," which I found among the pile of garbage. The cover looked like it was assembled by joining small bricks, trying to mimic a tower. But what raised my curiosity was its title.
Among youngsters nowadays, novels about religious conspiracies and weird sorcery stories are getting popular. And by the design alone, this book looked similar to most of them.
After secretly picking it up from the garbage pile, I headed toward my house. After checking the mailbox and confirming that it was empty, I entered my humble abode.
It was a two-story apartment I shared with my close friend. The second floor belonged to me while the first floor belonged to my friend. Both of us paid half of the bills, thus making the price affordable for both of us.
I never understood why more people didn't try this method.
After entering my room, I lit up the gas lamp on the study table and started reading the book I brought home.
The book begins with the words of the author.
*********
Farewell, dear readers, as I bid goodbye to the world we have traveled together. With gratitude as boundless as the horizons we have painted with words, I thank you for accompanying me through this land of our imagination, both wondrous and mysterious. The time shared shall linger in our halls of memories, where characters danced and dreams took flight.
And now, as the curtain falls on one chapter, a new narrative begins. Behold, dear friends, a tale rooted in the most ancient of history yet to be observed by the curious eyes of humans.
Within these pages lie secrets whispered by time itself, waiting to be unveiled by those bold enough to tread the path of yore.
So, join me once more as we embark on a journey where truth and imagination intertwine, where the past meets the present in a haunting waltz of intrigue and sorrow. Brace yourself, for within these words lies a tale of loss, where every triumph is shrouded by the specter of tragedy, and every step forward carries the weight of inevitable sorrow.
Let me guide you, not as Raphriam the writer, but as Raphriam the one who happened to tread the path before you.
(Year of the Elves.)
*********
"Did I accidentally steal an antique?!" I exclaimed.
The Year of the Elves was almost 250 years ago.
If my memory serves me right, it was the year when the first recorded interracial marriage occurred between the High Priest Abdiel the Dark Moon (a human) and Nilaitha the Guardian of the sea (an extinct humanoid species Elf).
But, it was named the Year of the Elves 50 years after the marriage. As for this author named Raphriam........... I've never heard of him before.
I was going to continue reading when I heard a shout.
"Vergil, get down here. There is a letter for you," shouted Nicole Aniston, my housemate.
I immediately organized my study table, turned off the lamp, and went downstairs only to see the confused expression on Nicole's face.
"What's with your face, Nicole?" I asked in a concerned voice.
"Who might this Raphriam Abraham and the walker of yore be?" She asked while walking towards me to hand the letter.
"Raphriam?" My mind went blank for a second.
CHAPTER 2 "I saw an old story unfold"
My mind went blank for a second. Wasn't the author's name Raphriam? Is somebody playing a trick on me?
"Why are you dazed? Here's the letter," Nicole said, handing me the letter.
I took it from her and carefully removed the wax seal. The letter stated the following:
[Dear reader, as I see you have brought my book to your humble abode and read up to my final words. I congratulate you for treading the path of yore.
Though a difficult and horrifying path, it will make you understand the value of the past and the weight of the unknown future. May we meet soon enough at the start of Chaos.
– Raphriam Abraham, the one who trod the path of yore.]
The letter was weird, and the contents sounded like nothing more than a bunch of gibberish.
"Nicole, did you see who sent the letter? Maybe it's a joke or something," I inquired.
"No, I don't know," she protested. "It was there in your mailbox when my parcel arrived." She pointed at the stack of old books kept neatly on her work table. Since she was a historian, she had many old books sent to her for translation purposes. She was pretty knowledgeable too, so I took the chance and asked awkwardly.
"Um, so if there was..."
"Was what?" she asked, seemingly excited.
"Well, if there was a book which had the year of Elves written on it, what could be the reason behind it?"
"Oh, that. Well, who knows," she replied in an annoyed tone. She paused for some time then continued, "Maybe it's a fake to scam people into buying it or a translation of a record written or found during the year of the Elves." She didn't explain further. I was thankful because if she did continue, it would have taken hours before she stopped babbling.
"Thanks, Nicole." After thanking her, I ran to my room to continue the book.
*********
Elves and Giants, the two races being the origin of many magical creatures like the Merlock and the beastman, are a well-known story. But where did 'they' originate from, and what was this world like before these human-like races, along with humans who fell from Heaven, populated this world? These questions shall be answered in this book.
Chapter 1: Origin before Genesis.
Let's start with the dawn of time, in the age of fire, when Eden still danced in the Heavens. Our world lay barren, devoid of life or even a whisper of a cloud. Humanity, then immortal and towering amidst the celestial splendor, dwelled in a realm beyond our comprehension.
They celebrated festivals with higher beings on a regular basis. Amidst a festival of revelry, the daughters of man caught the eyes of Angels, beings of divine grace. They took mortal brides, a union that was both a celebration and a tragedy.
From this union, born of heavenly desire and mortal flesh, came forth a calamity veiled in the guise of fortune.
As the angelic offspring tore from their mothers' wombs, spilling forth blood that birthed the witch, a darkness unfurled.
These children, blessed with celestial might yet bound by mortal frailty, became known as Nephilim — creatures neither wholly angelic nor wholly human.
Witnessing this abomination, the Angels cast out the Nephilim and their kin, condemning them to the mortal realm. With them came the Baldm Witches, born of the resentful blood of their mothers. The first of the Nephilims and Baldm Witches were vile, steeped in corruption from the Great Eye, but a second generation emerged, clinging to sanity amidst the Chaos.
********
KNOCK! KNOCK!
"Vergil, want to have dinner at my place?" I heard Nicole shout, inviting me to dinner at her place. I closed the book and went to have dinner. The next chapter had a pretty good name. "Birth of a Hero," I muttered softly.
CHAPTER: 3 "The Imaginary Paradise"
As the dishes were served by Nicole, the air was filled with the tantalizing aromas of roast beef, lamb, goose, and more. Nicole's eyes sparkled with a look of pride as she took in the feast spread out before us, her smile radiant with affection.
"Doesn't it all look wonderful? How do you find my cooking?" she exclaimed, her voice soft with affection. "I've been looking forward to this evening for so long. I wanted this evening to be special."
I nodded absentmindedly, my attention drifting toward what story would unfold next. I watched the flickering candlelight dance across the table, my thoughts wandering as I picked at my food. The flavors seemed to be non-existent as I struggled to focus on the food in front. Above all the romantic settings was not to my liking.
"Isn't the roast beef amazing?" She complemented her cooking on and on. "And the lamb, it's so tender and flavorful. Everything tastes even better when we're together, don't you think?"
I forced a smile, my mind still preoccupied with flickering thoughts. Even though I nodded in agreement, my words felt hollow, my responses lacking the same enthusiasm as her affection.
As the evening went on, her efforts to express her love became increasingly apparent, her gestures filled with tenderness and care. Yet, my mind was filled with topics related to work and the small book. I knew she liked me but wasn't sure how I felt about her.
"Nicole, you seem more excited than usual. Have you fallen in love or something?" I inquired, feigning ignorance toward her feelings.
"Ummm ... Vergil, how is your work on the delivered documents going?" She asked, clearly dodging my question. I didn't mind her reaction and replied.
"Very bad, my supervisor keeps demanding more and more productivity. That pig hogs all of our work, taking all the credit. Well, I am not one to complain, as I too sometimes do that to my juniors." I exaggerated a little bit about my work stories to make the atmosphere more fun, before I knew it, the plates were empty, leaving only oil stains to identify what food was placed there.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
"Oh, can you excuse me? The desserts are still in the kitchen." She said while gracefully raising from the table
"Sure, but may I ask what is the occasion for organizing this luxurious meal?" I asked, curious about what might have made her want to celebrate.
Nicole flinched at my question, but it was subtle enough for me to not notice it easily.
"Well, isn't it normal to have good food once in a while? You looked so tired these days. I just wanted to treat you to a good meal, yes, a good one, since I am your friend and neighbor." She was good at making stuff up, but it was not entirely false either. I have been straining myself just so I could raise my standing in my job.
"Well, I am pleasantly surprised by your generosity for the friend whom you used to call a creepy bastard a few years ago." I chuckled, while gazing at her.
"Twice a decade is not a few years, Vergil." She said before pausing then continued. " It's enough time to change a person's heart, mind, and soul. Even turning a creepy little bastard like you into a fine gentleman." She joked back.
"Well, I'll take that as a complement." The tension from before and her vain attempt to woo me slowly subsided.
"Hah, you are still so dumb, just like how you were two decades ago."
"Well, one thing has changed for sure over these past few years." I grinned.
"What?" She asked, seemingly expectant.
"Well, for starters, I am richer than you."
SLAPP!!
After hearing my answer, she slapped my back. It was painful, so much so that I was gasping for air and the food I ate was trying to exit from the wrong hole.
"Gasp ha ha ha, what was that for?" I asked her, shocked by her slap and the disaster of what the slap could have caused.
"Well, I don't know, it just moved on reflex." She defended, trying to act cute.
"If trying to kill someone is a reflex, then you sure have one hell of a reflex." I retorted unable to keep my calm.
"Thanks for the compliment." She spoke cheerfully.
"That was not a compliment. Please, can you go and get the dessert while I try not to puke on your table." I had to make some space to breathe before I could keep my cool.
"Sure thing." She replied and left like a wind and returned like a squirrel.
'Wait, is this Angel's tear?' the teardrop logo on the box of sweets looked familiar.
"Did you rob a bank or something? How did you afford this?" I inquired, seriously questioning the character of my friend.
"That is not the case. I just got a decent amount for the translation of one of my clients' books." She said while putting on a disappointed look.
I took one of the sweets from the box and tasted it.
'Ohhhhhhhh!! Who under Heaven could bake something so delicious?'
"I am happy you like it." Nicole laughed while looking at me.
"Was I that obvious?" I asked seemingly confused by her ability to see through others.
"Come on, you are literally crying tears of joy." She exclaimed pointing my eyes.
I rubbed my face and found tear rooling down.
"That's the reason why it's called Angel's tear, I guess." I tried to sound funny only to make a joke out of myself.
There was a short silence and after a while, we both burst into laughter releasing all the tension between us.
CHAPTER: 4 "Work"
It was dark, it was cold. There was nothing in this vast space no matter where my eyes gazed. It was an eternal darkness. I couldn't feel my body, nor could I tell if my eyes were open or closed. I was there, but I didn't have proof that I existed.
Then, in this vast expanse of nothingness, I saw a light—a bright light. But instead of warmth, it gave an eerie coldness. I looked closer and realized that the light was not from flames or Sun, but came from a giant distorted...
"Fuaaaaghhhh!!!!!!" I sprang up from my bed, awake and covered in sweat.
"What was that dream?" I questioned myself, but the memory of the dream had already faded too much to remember.
As I staggered to the bathroom my heart still beating at a fast pace due to fear, I wiped the sweat from my brow, I quickly washing myself in the bathroom.
Knock! Knock!
"Vergil, are you alright? Hey, Vergil, what happened?" Nicole shouted while banging on the door.
I opened the door after wearing a formal shirt and black pants.
"Ah, sorry for making you worried. Well, you see, I just had a nightmare and nothing else." I apologized to her feeling the regret of making her worry while searching for my long coat, hat, and leather satchel.
"Oh, is that it? I thought you got food poisoning from eating my food. I'm glad that's not the case." she laughed it off, though there was a slight disappointment in her face.
"Well, I gotta go for my work then. See ya in the evening. And thanks for checking after me. " I bid her farewell for now.
*********
As the misty dawn broke over the cobbled streets of Ekaref the snow which covered the streets yesterday now completely vanished, I emerged from the narrow alleyway. Putting a sturdy bowler hat atop my head and hanging a worn leather satchel over my shoulder, I set off briskly towards my place of employment.
My occupation as a document clerk at the esteemed firm of Ewans & Co. was a position of moderate importance, situated just below the upper echelons of the office hierarchy. While it did not afford me the fancy lifestyle of the city's elite, it provided me with a respectable income and a sense of pride.
Approaching the imposing red-brick facade of the Ewans & co. Building, I paused for a moment to admire its grandeur. Tall arched windows loomed above, their panes glinting in the early morning light. No matter how many times I see this sight I never get tired of it. But, despite its imposing exterior, the building buzzed with activity, a testament to the industrious spirit of Ekaref's commerce.
With a polite nod to the old doorman, I stepped into the bustling lobby, the air thick with the scent of polished wood and fine tobacco. The sound of typewriters clicking and bustling footsteps filled the air as clerks hurried to and fro, their tails and top hats bobbing with each hurried step.
Making my way to the elevator, one of the few pieces of technology I am glad was created, I joined a small group of colleagues, exchanging polite nods and murmured greetings as we ascended to the upper floors. The journey was brief but filled with anticipation, each floor bringing me closer to another day's work.
Arriving on the fourth floor, I made my way to the cramped cubicle, which I called mine, nestled amongst rows of similarly appointed workstations. The space was cluttered with stacks of parchment and inkpot, a testament to the ceaseless tide of paperwork that flowed through the firm.
Settling into my chair, I began my daily routine, meticulously examining each document with a keen eye for detail. My quill dancing across the page with practiced precision, making corrections and annotations with a flourish.
As the hours passed, the steady rhythm of scratching quills and shuffling papers filled the air, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of crinoline skirts or the distant clatter of a passing carriage. Despite the monotony of the work, I found solace in the routine, a sense of purpose in knowing that I played a vital role in the workings of the firm.
And so, as the gas lamps flickered to life and the shadows lengthened across the office floor, I packed away my quill and parchment, the weight of another day's work lifting from my weary shoulders.
Though my station in life may not have afforded me the lavish comforts of the aristocracy, it provided me with something far more valuable: a sense of superiority among my fellow companions.
CHAPTER: 5 "Conquest"
As I haggard down the streets, tired from the whole day of editing documents, my mind kept wandering about the book. The feeling of wanting to know more of what happened in the story rushed over me. Well, after all, that book was my only hobby. As I was rushing towards my home, I saw Nicole exiting the house.
"Nicole, are you going somewhere?" I asked her, noticing she was wearing a dress meant for traveling in the depths of the forest.
"Hey Vergil, I'm headed to one of Dunn Agres's excavation sites. He thinks he's onto something big." she replied, smiling brightly.
"Well, don't stay out for too long. Who knows what other men might do to you." I joked, with a grin plastered on my face.
"I am confident that I have never met a person more suspicious than you, Mr. Vergil Collins." she retorted before leaving for the site. Well, she is not completely wrong.
After confirming that my mailbox was empty, I entered my home, organizing my table before turning on the gas lamp to continue reading the story.
*********
Chapter: 2 - Birth of a Hero.
The second generation, though they clung to their sanity, were not immune to corruption. Their sanity was on the verge of collapse all the time. War erupted among colonies of the Nephilim, each vying for dominance over the other.
In the battlefield, the blood of Nephilim stained the earth, mixing with the soil to give rise to the first plant - a magical being destined to grow into a towering tree, its branches reaching the heavens. Though it was small in stature in the beginning, this magical plant possessed properties that made the earth fertile, giving birth to different flora around the world. Its precipitation formed clouds that bestowed life-sustaining rain upon the land below.
Then, through the blessings of the tree, a warrior was born in this world of war and bloodshed. A great warrior respected by all, his real name long-lost in the sands of time. Wielding his influence and calling upon the mystical plant, now revered as Perpetual Grace, he quelled the century-old war.
After the end of the war, whispers of prophecy started spreading, and Nephilims, being of divine descent, had the ability to obtain those prophecies. The warrior, now known as Carnus of End, spoke of the end of the world, the beginning of chaos, and the rise of a new god; proclaiming that the god they served was once a creation like them, he expressed his desire for ascension to divinity and the ambition to claim the heavens as his own domain.
*********
As I read the ending line, I felt weird.
"Calling God a mere creation was too offensive, even in this era. How did the author even lived long enough to write the book?" I muttered.
And as I checked the time on my pocket watch, I realized it was already half past eleven.
The soft click of the cap of the pocket watch echoed through the room as I prepared to enter my dreamland. That's when I heard a loud shout from downstairs.
"Vergil, you are not asleep yet, right? If so, can you help me carry these books? They are too heavy for me to carry alone," Nicole shouted by the door.
"Wait for me there!" I exclaimed.
I quickly went downstairs after putting on clothes decent enough to not make me look like an exhibitionist.
As soon as I opened the door, my mind went numb for a second.
'Was Nicole this beautiful?' I wondered.
We have been living in the same house for so long yet I never felt such tension seeing her.
"Nicole, tell me the truth. You didn't start doing witchcraft, right?" I questioned her raising an eyebrow.
"Haha, witchcraft? Where did that come from? No, just hauling some heavy books," Nicole replied, shaking her head with a grin.
"No, nothing specific ." I replied, trying to push away the intrusive thought in my head.
Now that I look around properly, was the world this much vibrant? As I helped her carry the books, my mind, for the first time, was not occupied with thoughts about my work and the book; It was as if I was in the present for real.
"What are you wondering about, Vergil? Or did I disturb you when you were about to sleep?" Nicole asked politely looking concerned.
"No, actually, I was just overthinking something. Oh, and I think you look more beautiful than usual." I complemented her.
"Oh! Vergil, is this what those old ladies call a late bloomer?" She was grinning widely then continued. "Well, I don't think I look different though."
It doesn't matter what the problem was, but to me, the world looked beautiful. As we went to pick up the last stack of books, I looked at the sky, feeling someone's gaze, but couldn't find the origin of the feeling.
"Isn't the moon beautiful," Nicole said while looking at the sky, the full moon was illuminating the night sky with little stars surrounding him, it was beautiful.
"How long has it been since we got the chance to gaze at the moon and its little subjects?" I replied to her now completely immersed in the night sky.
"'Little subjects'. Pffft, Vergil, I didn't know you were such a childish person." she said, smiling just like usual. But something was different this time; this time I enjoyed seeing her smile like that.
CHAPTER: 6 "Eclipse"
Weeks went by like the flow of a river, the Vaisa and the factory building still looked depressing, but there was a change in me that made my life not as colorless as before. I was found happiness my day to day life.
I no longer felt the need to prove my existence, my purpose of life. I felt free from the monotony of life, but the more free I felt the more empty it was for me. I couldn't understand what it was, just that the feeling of fulfillment I got by proving my existence day to day wasn't found anymore.
Isn't it ironic? No matter how much a human yearn for freedom, they always find themselves trapped by one thing or another. It's as though we're made to seek out our own shackles, willingly trading our liberty for the comfort of familiarity our daily suffering brings.
Well, that's what I want to because I am happy right now, happier than I ever was, maybe happier than I ever will be.
Reaching home, I saw Nicole working on the books her unconventional short hair completely messy, but to me it still looked good, I once again opened the book, this time it was the final chapter of the story.
*********
Final chapter- Forgotten conquest.
The conquest was still a long way, and Carnus surely knew something that other Nephilims didn't, though burden by the weight he summoned the second generation of Nephilim to build a tower. A colossal tower reaching Heavens, naming it Peniel.
Despite his ambition he looked not that keen to rush the work and each passing day made him frown even more.
As days went by the third generation of Nephilim flourished, though small in stature compared to their predecessors, they had the blessings of being immune to the corruption that plagued their ancestor caused by the Great Eye.
After a span of a century, Peniel neared completion, it's silhouette a symbol of Carnus's ambition.
Before entering the hollowed halls of the tower alongside his loyal kin, Carnus made a decision of leaving behind the third generation. Deeming the involvement of the future generation too dangerous and unjust. Thus, they bid good-bye at the foot of the tower.
Before entering the halls Carnus felt a gaze from above the sky, the origin unknown to him, but he knew what it was since the gaze was from a being that everyone believes in, a being whom even God revered to 'The Presence' 'The Great Eye'.
As the Nephilim's ascent near completion, The God, discerned their plot. Sacrificing all records of his existence, the God gained the authority of Creator, offering his own essence in exchange.
In this act of punishment, the tower became a prison trapping the second generation within its confines, transforming them into soulless monstrosities.
Carnus already transcending mortal bounds, evaded a fate of becoming a mindless monster, but was still trapped within the tower's grip.
Atop the unfinished tower, by his desolate throne. He gazed towards the dying God whom he hated, towards Heaven which he sought after. His eyes now fixed upon the divine realm he once coveted, now lack that divine presence he once felt.
In silent lamentation, he wondered why? Grappling with the futility of his ambition amidts the hole left by the now dead deity.
"Why go to such lengths only to perish?" He implored, his words echoing in the void, unanswered by the absent God.
For the only God of this world has breathed his last, leaving Carnus to confront the harsh reality of his lone quest.
Thus, came his end, his own Forbidden Paradise.
*********
As the final words of the story faded from the pages, I realized I have completed the book, I was confused. That's it? This is the end?
Suddenly, I felt the world go silent, an eerie silence descending upon this world. Panic gripped me when I realized that the noise of bustling life outside my home had faded into silence. The once familiar sound of people and cabs bustling on the road vanished along with the presence of Nicole working on the book downstairs, leaving no traces behind. I was all alone.
Looking out of the window, I was struck with horror as the world outside was slowly being consumed by an encroaching darkness, eclipsing the once warm embrace of the sun.
As I raised my head higher towards the sky a grotesque spectacle greeted my gaze — a colossal distorted eye composed of writhing mass of maggots and twisting tentacles gazing over this world.
Attempting to steady my trembling hand, I tried to grab onto anything, almost collapsing from the shock.
The small book I had recently finished took on a life of its own, it's pages unfurling to reveal newly forming text, as if inscribing itself real-time.
[In the quite of the fading world,]
The text brought shiver down my spine. Frantically I fled, fleeing from this encroaching darkness, a scream full of madness escaping my lips. Desperate to evade both the looming eye and the darkness it heralded, I screamed for help.
[As our memories slip away, let us cling to hope.]
Though, the book no by my side I could feel the text.
I ran as fast as I could but wherever I went darkness followed.
[Though darkness now reigns, let us believe that the light will return. So do not fear.]
Wherever I looked no sign of life could be seen. Only the gaze of that large, hedious distorted eye hanging on the sky could be felt over the desolate landscape.
[For even in the depths of despair,]
The text persisted, as if mocking me for my futile attempt. Suddenly my will to run vanished.
While the darkness tried to swallow me, I clunged to the remnants of this shattered world. But with each passing moment, the darkness grew thicker. The Vaisa, the emotionless factory building that was so disappointing and depressing to me few months ago now felt like a part of my life I couldn't let go of. As the darkness completely enveloped me, I opened my eyes in the empty void. Realizing what I had perceived as reality was merely a recollection, a fragment of a past long gone, the only one left behind being me and that large, hideous eye above me.
At first terrifying me now it was the only company I had, but even that Eye departed from this void. My mind gave up on living, and as echoes of my memories faded little by little, I surrendered to the darkness, surrendered to my mind which couldn't bear this loneliness and finally as I closed my eyes, I heard the conclusion of the book.
[For even in the end of the world, oblivion is our own desired Forbidden Paradise.]
The conclusion echoed in the plain of nothingness. No one sentient enough to understand the words, but to me it was my conclusion, my end and my own "Forbidden Paradise."