Alma 110 His Painful Immaturity

It looked different to him now. Much smaller and more fragile. Where he had once seen majestic peaks, valleys, forests, and rivers, he now saw the impasto of the world, the beautiful texture of the physical world.

He turned his head toward the ever-distant North. The effects of his actions had forever changed it. The endless winter that had once plagued the land had been dispelled. Spring had finally come for the North after nearly four thousand years of winter, thanks to his meddling.

But that wasn't what he was interested in. He gazed at a certain area of deceased, crumbling land. That parcel of joyless earth would never harbor life again.

It had not healed one bit, even with the blessing he had given it. The damage done to it had been too severe. That area would have to be replaced with something brand new; it could not be repaired.

Much had been revealed to him when he bonded with the Divine Furnace. He had gained a piece of what he had once lost, a missing fragment containing a reservoir of memories and knowledge.

With his newfound knowledge and power, he could have created new land for the North but had decided against it. With the assistance of the Divine Furnace, he could accomplish what others could only dream of doing. That much was for certain — it was, for all intents and purposes, a transcendent tool.

But the power granted by the Divine Furnace did not come without a cost. A heavy price would have to be paid every time it was used.

It was not such a convenient tool. The sun would not rise above the horizon without a sacrifice. Souls, stars, and prayers would have to be offered to the Divine Furnace for it to function as intended.

Such was the relationship between Man and God. There would always be a give and a take between the two. Always.

As a result, he rejected the idea of creating something new. He would not use the Divine Furnace if it meant taking from the people of the world. They had lost enough.

The world doesn't need something like that, anyway. They will remember.

What had happened would forever exist as a scar in the hearts and minds of the people — it was, therefore, meaningless attempting to fix the damage on the land. If anything, it would've been an insult to them had he tried to erase what had happened in the North…

The world had changed and he, too, along with it. He had come to realize what he was capable of doing now.

I'm a threat to this world given what I can do now. I, alone, caused all of this destruction and misery. The fault lies with me.

It was a hard pill to swallow, but he couldn't run away from it. He had to accept that he was directly responsible for everything that had happened. The deaths of millions ultimately fell on his hands.

Her death was his own fault. He had failed.

I made the decision with my own free will. I took her life along with millions of others and used them without permission.

Even if he'd done it to protect the world, it didn't take away from the fact that he had selfishly sold their lives away. He had no right to do what he had done.

Those lives were not his to take. He had no ownership over them, nor had they willingly volunteered themselves as sacrifices.

What he had done was an act of tyranny, plain and simple. An evil act.

No different from what the Infestation does to people.

That wasn't who he was or what he wanted to represent. He comprehended the power he possessed and wanted to be worthy of it. Needed to be. If not, it would only consume him — corrupt him until he became no different than the Infestation.

That I will NOT allow. I will kill myself before I ever let that happen. This multiverse will not have another tyrant oppress it, not while I still breathe…

He kept reminding himself that above all else, he was still mortal beneath the power he had gained.

A Man and not a God.

As a mortal, he was not above the ethics and morals set by his fellow Men. The laws that governed the world — made by Men — still applied to him.

Perhaps God was exempt from the Laws of Man, but he was not. At least, not yet…

As such, he had come to the conclusion that he had committed several crimes. If he was to belong with the people down below, he would have to answer for what he had done to the world.

The lives he had taken and the destruction he had brought upon the world.

The selfish misuse of the power he had been given for his own purposes.

A reckless, selfish murderer who tried to play the role of the hero.

That is what I am.

He would have to tell everyone the truth. Velvund, Haydn and… Sebastian were owed that much. They deserved to know.

If I am to live beside them, I must tell them the truth. That is the correct thing to do.

Sure, it would be much easier to not say anything or to lie. He was positive that if he wanted to, he could easily get away with what he had done. No one would ever know the truth.

But that wasn't who he wanted to be. He didn't want to be a coward and a liar.

He wanted to be worthy of the immense power he possessed. Not for the sake of the world or for some inane, personal reason like his pride.

No, he wanted to be worthy of it because of the… regret he felt.

I've completely forgotten who I was… What I still am, even now.

Just a man— no, a stupid boy.

That was my greatest mistake.

He had come to realize that he was woefully lacking and ignorant as an individual. He was not mature enough to properly handle the power that he had been bestowed and because of that, many people had suffered and even died…

His immaturity had cost many a life and caused untold suffering across the world.

The worst part of it all was that every single person he had met — everyone who cared for him — had warned him about this. They had all warned him that his rashness would only lead to trouble. That he was not thinking things through all the way, letting his emotions get the best of him.

The allure of his powers had entranced him, made him believe that he was, in fact, a God. He had even escaped death a second time. Drunk on power, he had prematurely come to the conclusion that he was some kind of blessed or cursed individual — a special being with special privileges…

I couldn't have been more wrong. How could I have been so stupid?

He wasn't special. He wasn't a hero. Some kind of… chosen one like in the fairy tales he used to love reading as a child.

This was the real world. With real people and real consequences.

There were no coincidences or strokes of luck. It was all being paid for by someone, somewhere.

It had finally dawned him… that someone had to foot the bill for his actions.

The image of long, golden hair like wheat flashed past his eyes like a phantom vision. Her beautiful visage vanished as soon as it arrived and disappeared back into the depths of his mind.

She was gone.

Flowing, black hair like night brushed past the corner of his peripheral vision and he hurriedly turned as if to chase it. He knew that it was all but it an illusion but even so, he could not stop himself from turning.

She was gone, too.

They were both gone.

What would he say that her once he returned back to Citlai? That he had failed to uphold the oath he had sworn to her? That he had left the person he was supposed to save, die? That he had murdered her? That was responsible for the slaughter of millions of innocents?

What was he supposed to tell Sebastian once he woke up? That he had killed the only person he cared about in order to protect the world? That there was nothing he could have done? That he was sorry?

An indescribably painful sensation stirred in his chest and he bit his lips.

All was well in the world. The slowly rising sun had already risen past the horizon — another day had arrived, as promised.

People would mourn for the lost and rebuild what had been destroyed.

Life would continue and so the people. As long as the sun rose past the horizon again, they would keep moving forward.

Thus, he would too — one step at a time. Painful as it may be, he would have to move past his mistakes.

He had to. There was too much at stake to not move forward…

Chapter end