Finding Paradise

The door creaked open, revealing a lavishly decorated bedroom, its grandeur both enchanting and unnerving.

Kale stepped inside with Stacy still clinging tightly to him, her small hands gripping his arm as if letting go would pull her into an abyss. The room was enormous, its high ceilings adorned with intricate murals of gods and celestial beings. Golden candelabras cast flickering light across the polished wooden floor, and a faint smell of incense lingered in the air.

Two attendants followed them, their hands clasped respectfully in front of them as they bowed. "General Joel, Lady Lillian," one of them said, her voice soft but trembling, "this will be your chamber for the evening. The emperor will visit you shortly."

Stacy's eyes widened, her gaze darting to Kale. She didn't say anything, but he could feel her unease in the way her grip tightened on his arm. Kale offered her a small smile, hoping it would comfort her, even as his own stomach twisted with unease.

The other attendant stepped forward. "Lady Lillian," she began, "we have prepared another room for you, adjacent to the general's. Shall we—"

"No!" Stacy's voice cut through the room, sharp and panicked. She buried her face into Kale's chest. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to stay with Dad."

The attendants exchanged uneasy glances, their brows furrowed. One of them hesitated before speaking again. "But, Lady Lillian—"

"She stays with me," Kale interrupted firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. His eyes locked onto the attendants, daring them to challenge him.

The lead attendant bowed her head. "As you wish, General."

Kale let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He turned to the massive bed in the center of the room, its silk sheets and ornate canopy almost too luxurious to touch. "Come on, kiddo," he murmured, setting Stacy down gently.

She climbed onto the bed and sat cross-legged, her eyes darting around the room. "Dad, where are we?" she whispered.

Kale didn't have an answer. Instead, he took a moment to examine their surroundings. The walls were covered in tapestries depicting scenes of worship—kneeling figures with hands raised to the heavens, gods descending from the clouds, and battles fought in their names. At the center of the room, a massive mural dominated the space above the fireplace.

Three figures stood tall in the mural, their divine presence almost tangible even in painted form. At the top was a radiant figure, its face obscured by light, but its commanding presence unmistakable. Below it was a woman draped in scarlet robes, her eyes burning with a mix of allure and menace. On the opposite side stood a dark figure cloaked in shadows, its form jagged and menacing.

Kale's eyes lingered on the inscriptions beneath the figures: The One Who Spoke First. The Mother of Harlots and Abominations of the Mortal Realm. The Father of Malevolence.

A shiver ran down his spine. The names alone carried a weight that pressed against his chest. Stacy followed his gaze and frowned. "Are those… gods?"

"I think so," Kale replied, his voice low. The words tasted foreign in his mouth, but something about the figures felt oddly familiar, like a half-forgotten dream.

"Why do they look so scary?" Stacy asked, leaning closer to the mural.

Kale didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer to the fireplace, running his fingers over the carved inscriptions on its mantle. The language was unlike anything he'd seen before, yet he could somehow understand it.

All kneel before the divine. All answer to their will.

Kale's head throbbed as a flash of something unfamiliar yet vivid surged through his mind—a vision of standing in a vast hall, banners bearing the symbol of the radiant figure fluttering in the air. He blinked rapidly, the vision vanishing as quickly as it had come.

"Dad?" Stacy's voice snapped him back to reality.

"I'm fine," he said, shaking his head. "Just… tired."

Stacy tilted her head, her expression skeptical but concerned. Before she could say anything more, the attendants returned, carrying trays of food and drink. They placed the trays on a low table near the bed, their movements precise and reverent.

They steered at Kale and Stacy like they were looking at two completely different people.

Jo El, the general of the Hwang Empire, husband to the longest lived cultivator, his late wife lived for over 5000 years and during that time she had grown to the most powerful cultivator who almost ascended to the immortal realm.

The only thing that was left of her history was the belief that she died during labor. Joel made sure to compel himself that that was what happened.

And his daughter never met her mother.

"Please make yourselves comfortable," one of them said, bowing deeply. "The emperor will see you shortly."

Kale's jaw tightened. He didn't like the idea of meeting someone so soon, especially when he didn't fully understand the situation they were in. But he nodded curtly, dismissing the attendants.

As the door closed behind them, Stacy reached for a piece of fruit from the tray. "Do you think the emperor is nice?" she asked, her voice tentative.

"I don't know," Kale admitted, sitting beside her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "But no matter what happens, I'm here. We'll figure this out together."

Stacy nodded, through her eyes remained fixed on the mural. "Those gods… do you think they're watching us?"

Kale hesitated. The thought sent a chill down his spine, but he forced himself to smile. "I'm really not the religious type, but if there are gods here, They will know we don't belong here and they will help you get home."

Stacy gave him a small smile in return, though the fear lingering in her eyes was impossible to miss. Kale wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

As the hours passed, the unease in the room seemed to grow. The flickering candlelight cast strange shadows across the walls, making the figures in the mural appear almost alive. Kale couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, though he couldn't see by whom.

When the clock struck midnight, a distant sound echoed through the palace—low and melodic, like a chant carried on the wind. Stacy sat up straight, her eyes wide.

"What's that?" she whispered.

Kale's heart raced. "I don't know. Stay here."

He stood and moved toward the door, pressing his ear against it. The chanting grew louder, a rhythmic hum that seemed to resonate through the very walls. It wasn't just a sound; it was a presence, heavy and oppressive.

"Dad," Stacy called softly, her voice trembling.

Kale turned back to her, forcing a calm expression. "It's nothing, kiddo. Probably just some kind of ceremony."

But even as he said the words, he didn't believe them. The room felt colder, the air heavier. Kale clenched his fists, his mind racing with questions.

Who were these people? Why did they think he was someone else? And most importantly, how was he going to protect Stacy in a world he didn't understand?

For now, there were no answers. Only the promise of an emperor's visit and the faint, haunting echoes of midnight worship.

Knock knock, came the sound of knocking on the door.