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Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Who is Commanding us?

"What is life"

A small window at the top of the room was left open, the smell of early spring wafting in and causing a light breeze to ruffle the white curtains.

All was well for the common folk, all was peaceful. For a king, wouldn't this be a dream? Wouldn't this be what a king strives for? A king is the ruler of a country, their job, their existence is to make the townsfolk live fulfilling lives.

Isn't it?

So why, up in the highest tower of the castle, was King Wanchester Volptos Jr. Enternen the Third wallowing in his tears.1

He looked up at the window, the springtime breeze almost seeming like a mockery to him. 

How had he come to this point?

He felt the words reverberate around his skull as he thought these words through. As his life went on he felt as if he just simply existed1, and while he thought this he always thought: Why?

Depression? Not quite. King Wanchester had lived through so many cases of dealing with depressed citizens of his city1, and he knew this wasn't correct.

Emptiness? Yes. 

He was nothing, just floating in the void. Wondering what would happen next, but not caring. 

"This isn't how a king should be."

He sternly told himself that. A king should be a jolly fellow that can be relied upon, always able to give a helping hand and always having a wise word to share...

"A figment of imagination...such a person does not exist."

King Wanchester stood up, shaking a small bit of dust off his robes and looked towards the window.

"Vernal equinox, the source of others eudemonia, whilst others lament. Fair saplings amidst the woe of us crowned cranium. Dilemma....equinox, oh! Ruination; thou tears cry not, for none to heed. Destruction, incarnate inside the head, fear...fear! I tell thee, thou royalty sit on thou thrones...yet thee hearts give up thee ghost."

King Wanchester closed his eyes, the light of the sun disappearing under his eyelids. Small teardrops fell down King Wanchester's withered cheeks1 and landed with a light plink on the dark wooden floors. The dust on the wooden floors seemed to inch away from the sorrowful water, seeming to not want to touch something so terribly tragic. 

In all the stories his father had read to him the King was always portrayed as the hero, someone to be looked up to and respected, if not feared1.

King Wanchester could not shake the thought that perhaps he was a failure as a king…he was no longer a hero…instead he was a villain.

A manipulative villain, who was overpowered.1

"Is this all I am? Is this all I ever was?"

King Wanchester's mind reeled as he realized that perhaps being a king was not what he was supposed to be, "In the end…what am I?"

No, I cannot go back to wallowing in my own tears and sorrows.

I. Am. Stronger.Than.This.

No king gained wisdom and strength of mind by crying and acting as a child…they gained their strength by learning what others wanted, they gained strength by learning what they wanted.

Without a second thought, as to not let his mind become changed, King Wanchester walked through the door of the tower. He walked down the stairs two at a time. He must be quick, although his body may be frail, his mind was very quick…yet very quick to change as well.

The servants his passed looked at him, for King Wanchester was never one for spur of the moment ventures to the outside world.1 

Yet King Wanchester gave them barely a glance, he feared that one wrong glance, and all his built up courage would come tumbling down. Yet after all this King Wanchester stayed adamant. 

Outside the lushness of Spring enveloped King Wanchester. The youngness 1of all the creatures surrounding him made him feel ancient. Yet his elderliness, he feared, lacked the wisdom he should have. 

"King Wanchester!" A young woman ran out of her small house, clutching a small bit of flowers, "It has seemed like ages since you have last come to see your subjects in the village1! Here, take these flowers!" She handed him a few small, yellow flowers that looked as if they were recently harvested. 

"My greatest thanks, my dear. However, I feel as if I do not deserve these." King Wanchester smiled sadly.

"Oh, no no! I insist! You have done so much for us! If it weren't for you, these flowers wouldn't even exist!"

King Wanchester knew in his heart then, that this woman was speaking the truth, "You are kind, my dear." He took the small flowers into his weathered hands and smiled at the woman. His eyes teared up as he realized how much this woman, and all the villagers, respected him. However, no matter how highly his subjects may think of him…he could not think much higher of himself. 

He dismissed the woman kindly, and went on his way. The beaten down road was firm beneath his feet, however he felt out of place. This quaint village was no place for a king…so why was this 'king' feeling so content? More content that he had felt in the cozy confines of his castle. 

He hummed a small tune to himself as he walked past the posh houses with their small gardens. As his song commenced  a dark cloud rose over the sky, obscuring the cheerful sunshine. 

"The rain comes…"He said these words cryptically, as if the weather itself was uncertain. 

And indeed it was.

The storm did not just bring in the rain (Yet it did as well) but it brought something much more fearsome.

It brought Illusion.

King Wanchester looked up, he felt the Illusion rein into his veins. His brain felt…not enlightened, yet it still felt…different.

He had read stories of Illusion, his father had read him stories telling of the horrors and the pleasures that it had brought in days of old.

Illusion had disappeared the day that King Wanchester's great grandfather had been born. If it was a coincidence, no one knew. Many had theories, many even believed that his great grandfather had been the sole reason for its ending. However, in truth no one knew the true reasons for its disappearance. 

Illusion was the force that made things grow, and the force that made things die. It was power, yet weakness as well. Illusion is simply a…well an illusion…but it is also very much real.

Common-folk believe it is false, yet that is because they had no reason for it. However, King Wanchester had always felt connected to it. Although it was just a part of storybooks King Wanchester enjoyed listening to when he was a child, he always had found it to seem all too real.

Thousands of years ago Illusion had been commonplace for the kings to have. Illusion had been part of life for everyone. It had been the defining reasons for the kings rising into their powers. Without Illusion the civilians wouldn't have respected the kings as much as they did, they had grown up to respect them. It was written in their bones that each king had un-human strength, and they had respected and found joy in this. However then that fateful day had happened.

That day, a great storm had covered the castle along with the village, and with it, it had destroyed all the Illusion in the world. The thunderclap that had revealed this had perfectly corresponded with the first cries of King Wanchester Volptos Jr. Enternen's great grandfather. 

For the civilians, life had gone on the same. However, for the royalty their life had been changed….scarred.

But this feeling in King Wanchester's veins did not seem normal….it felt as if…His bones were rewriting themselves…however not just his bones, but his veins, his muscles, and most of all, his brain.

Yet with this change, King Wanchester did not feel even a small bit of pain. 

"The storybooks…they were not lies…not a bit of it! I can feel the breath…I can feel the elusiveness ... .I can feel…Illusion.

King Wanchester clutched his heart, his eyes widening. He knew that for everyone else, this would feel just like a normal storm…but for King Wanchester this was something so much more. This was like his life was changing before his very eyes.

"I must find out how to harness this power, I have to find others to teach me the ways…" Then, like a waterfall or a meteor falling, the truth hit King Wanchester like never before. "I am the only one of royal lineage…..so I am the only one with Illusion. How can I be taught…if I am the only one who has this ability?"

King Wanchester shook his head rapidly, this could not be the truth! But if he could not harness this power, than how could he grow as a king, and therefore feel like a success in his very own eyes? 

"Books."

The knowledge of all the past kings was not passed down orally, but yet through books. King Wanchester ran through the rain, the ground now soggy and muddy, yet he did not care. He must get to the library quickly!

**********************

King Wanchester's eyes shone as he scanned through millions of books. These books had been in his family for thousands of years, yet he had never even thought to read them so closely in his whole life.

Yet under all the journals written by all the kings' frivolous wives, there were large tomes written by scholarly kings telling of the traits of Illusion

King Wanchester looked through one exert and quickly read it.

"Illusion has been in the world since its creation, and long before it as well. Illusion existed before even I was born, and I, mind you, am very old."

No, no. That is not correct! All the mentions of Illusion just give a cryptic explanation! King Wanchester was looking for a description of what it is, and how to use it. 

There! Under a stack of foolishly written diaries, there was a dark, dusty, book with a torn cover. King Wanchester opened it and sat down in a plush, red armchair. This was the book. He could feel it in his bones.

"Illusion, the force that guides us all, but then brings it all down right after. It is not from humans though, it is not just the magic that is read about in storybooks. Illusion is taking the divinity particles that radiate from the planet's core and converting them into a form that is spiritually tangible, and thus is given a physical output. However, the royals of this reality have the ability of becoming the 'core' that emits the 'divinity particules'. Royals are not chosen at random, or because of their family lineage. They are chosen to become these 'Cores' by their love, loyalty and their patriotism for their country. Therefore, it is possible for

1. There being a peasant or another person who is not a royal becoming a 'core'.

2. There being more than one 'core' at one time, or one who has stronger physical output than another.

Although it may seem false or not believable, this is the truth. The reason for the much larger quantity of 'cores' being royal than not, is because of the fact written above. However, using these powers physical output is much more than just thinking about using the power. It is using your patriotism, and more than that, your great desire and knowledge of knowing what you want to do. If 'the core' unlocks inside of you, a greater knowledge will be earned, through careful study and reaching out to the four corners of the world, your knowledge will increase. And sooner than ever, the mystery behind Illusion will reveal itself. When many are researching this mysterious subject, they tend to think of Illusion like a meditation process, like something that furthers yourself and thus you are the one using the power, but this is false. We are not the Divinity Particles, we are simply the cores. Core is a very keyword, it means we are not the origin but the vessel that brings the Divinity Particles into spiritual tangibility. There are multiple forms of Illusion, I will give a basic definition of each:

Physica: This is by far the most commonly thought of form of Illusion, it is used by weaving the Divine Particles through your bloodstream, but before they hit the core (In us humans this would be described as the brain) are taken out of the body, the Divinity Particles will leave the body in 'Physical Output' when one is angry with/or at the government or some form of governing. Of course it comes in many different forms and is the closest to the magic that is written about in storybooks. For example, you can conjure a flame from your palm if you direct the Divinity particles into your hand whilst you are in a state of anger at the governing people. It is not an elemental power though, this is very important. Although it may appear as a flame or a shard of ice it is not! Illusion is the same no matter what it looks like, no image that Illusion takes on is stronger than the last. If you were to send a bolt of Illusion lightning and someone it would be no stronger than a small blade of Illusion grass. This brings us to the next form.

Patria: This is a form that is very rare and is not fully understood. It is knowledge, yet always weakness. When the Divinity Particles become spiritually tangible, they are in a certain state before they go into your brain. This is called Patria. It is very hard on your mind to use these Particles, however because of this it is also one of the strongest forms of Illusion. It is one with the brain, rather than the body, is one way of thinking of it. While Physica is something you can see, Patria is something that you feel or rather, know. Interestingly enough Patria is not just used by humans, in the realm above ours there are magical beings that are taught to use Patria from their first steps. We do not know of these creatures because of Patria, it weaves into our brains that these do not exist. This is precisely what Patria is, weaving into one's brain. But, with great power there comes a greater sacrifice. By using Patria there is a very high chance of losing one's grasp of reality and ruining one's mind for their entire life. There have been stories of the greatest soldiers and kings forgetting their own identities because of their attempts at Patria. The only reason for these magical beings being able to use Patria so successfully is they have two brains, one that is used as a decoy so that if it is ruined while using Patria it will not effect them and can be easily mended, while they use their other brain for their everyday thinking. They mend their brains by the third, and last, form of Illusion.

Perkiva: It is perceiving and thus, reality. By far the most difficult and rare form of Illusion. There are no known humans able to use this, in fact, the only being that can use Perkiva are the gods. It gives the ability of believing anything and that which you have thought of becomes 'real'. It is not weaving the particles into, or beside the core…no. It is becoming the core, but not the core. It is becoming not the Divinity Particles, but becoming divine. But this is not even fully true. Perkiva is becoming Spiritually Tangible yourself. I cannot linger on this subject for long, because there is not much known about this and there are zero known people able to use Perkiva. The reason for these Magical Beings with the two brains being able to heal themselves with this is because of their closeness to the Gods. Since their realm and the realm of the gods is so close they sometimes act as if they are brethren. The gods using Perkiva to mend them is something easily done by them, like a human helping out another, younger, human in a menial task. 

By combining Physica with Patria one can create something called 'zone'. It is used by combining the mental capabilities with the physical capabilities. The person that is being attacked or punished is trapped in a 'zone' of their own thoughts used by Patria, however Physica makes the mental 'zone' an actual sort of cage. So when the opponent breaks out of the mental attack they are still in the grasps of the cage, or using proper terminology, Zone. Many doubters believe that Zone does not exist and instead is just people using Perkiva without knowing it, but this has been proven false by Archduke Armandis. He has stated that, "Zone is not truly creating a Zone and attacking one all at the same time, it is instead one after the other, whilst Perkiva would be able to create a real Zone that would successfully trap and destroy the opponent." Physica can never be thought of as the same as Perkiva, because they are so different that it would seem as an insult to both forms. You must keep in mind that Physica is not made by force of will, much like Perkiva is, but instead is caused by intense emotions of anger at the government or the other ruling class. There are many ways to use Physica and Patria, however all humans have strived for for over trillions of years to grasp the knowledge of Perkiva. A knowledge so far away from us that it seems like it is simply the work of a myth, perhaps it is, many say. But all I can tell you, my fair friend,  is that, with full certainty: Illusion is real."

King Wanchester put down the tome on a side table with a dull thump.

"Illusion…"

He had felt Illusion coming into his very soul. This could not be Physica or Patria….no.

This was Perkiva. 

King Wanchester stood up, stretched his legs, and laughed.

"Ohohhohohhohohoho! What a fine, fine, day this is!" He ran out of this library, he elderly legs wobbling in his excitement. He was no longer worried about his quality of his kinglyship, how could he when he had learnt so much more. 

Illusion was something he had never before believed to truly exist…he felt as though he were young again1.

King Wanchester clicked his heels as though he were a young child yet again. He began to sing, his ancient voice wavering in joy, "Vernal equinox, the source of my eudemonia! Fair saplings amidst the joy of my crowned cranium! Dilemma....equinox, oh! What happiness; thou laughter never dies. Destruction, incarnate inside the head, no longer! Oh, no longer, I tell thee!!"1

  1. I use the word 'wallowing' here to describe that he has not just been crying for a small bit of time but is, instead, contemplating his life. He is not just having a bad day, he is wondering what is the meaning behind a 'bad day'. King Wanchester would rather have a 'bad day' than feeling so..so empty. I use wallowing for some irony, because wallowing could also mean basking or relishing, however it can also mean immersing or stumbling. It is such a interesting word because it can be positive or negative. And, I believe, this very beautifully describes King Wanchester's mental state.
  2. She is speaking of the small village surrounding the castle.
  3. Manipulative because King Wanchester believes that he is just manipulating his subjects, and overpowered because he fears he is abusing his power as the king.
  4. It is not a real word you say? Do not fear, Shakespeare made up new words all of the time as well.
  5. Feared in a way of respect of course. Not a way of hatred. King Wanchester has never striven towards being hated.
  6. At the beginning of this chapter is states something along the lines of, "He was acting like a foolish child." And I showed he disdain for Spring and other aspects of youth, however at the end of the chapter I say he was acting as if he were young again, this is very important character development. However, this also shows how he has 'been born again' almost, because him finding out about Illusion.
  7. His city is called Mestrik, in case you have forgotten.
  8. He sings the song that he sung at the beginning of the chapter, yet with joy instead of sorrow. Please keep this in mind in your second read-through.
  9. You may note, than in many circumstances such as this one, I describe King Wanchester with 'withered cheeks' or an 'elderly appearance' this is to show you, and all my other readers, that King Wanchester is not a young child, he is not young at all. He is old, and he is aware of this, he embraces it...yet he is afraid of it. He feels as though he is not as wise as his age tells him he should be.
  10. He is not the sort of person to stay inside all day. It is just that when he is going outside he tends to not just take a walk in the village, and instead he plans out a trade meeting or something equivalent to that.
  11. A very key word. I would recommend you keep a good eye on this word. It will show up all throughout this tome.

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