Which One Is Your God?

He got a strange look from the green-haired girl. "God? Which is it?"

"Huh?"

Azran repeated, "You said god. Who is your god? I seldom meet people who only believe in one god."

Heon blinked. To banish the drowsiness and confusion away. "You believe in more than one god? There's more than one god?"

"I forgot that you're not from this world."

Pushing himself to sit on the bunk, Heon sighed the moment his back was against the wooden wall of the boat. "I thought you believed me already?"

Azran shrugged. "Believe it or not, a person coming from another world is unheard of. I don't think something like this has ever happened before."

"Well, Sunny said some heroes were summoned from another world–"

Then, he remembered. That was just one of the bullshit the manic boy pulled for entertainment. Sunny thought it was funny how he found a fellow nut case. Fortunately, he wasn't that gullible.

At least, not anymore. He hoped.

Heon cleared his throat, directing the topic back to where it was. "I believe in one God, but I don't really go to church or something."

"So, you don't really believe in your god?"

"I– well, I was busy, you see."

Azran was unconvinced. "Not a devoted believer, I see."

A flush of embarrassment crossed on his face. "Which gods do you believe in?"

"Malikh and Rham, amongst other gods."

"Why those two?"

"Malikh is the King of Gods. He is the most powerful, the highest authority there is. While Rham is God of Mercy. The kind one."

Heon raised a single eyebrow. "King of Gods? You mean, the other gods obeyed Malikh?"

"Yes."

"Don't you think that's strange?"

"Why?"

The boy with white streaks on his hair frowned, "Because if I'm a god, I don't want to obey another god. That's just like how people are."

"People are created in the image of gods. Of course, we resemble them."

"Huh."

Azran rolled her eyes. "What is it this time?"

"Does that mean there's a bad god, too? An evil one, perhaps?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "That depends on how you see things. For example, there's people praying to Dzarul, the God of Sufferings."

"Why would they pray to a god who gives sufferings?"

"So that they would be free of suffering. Or for Dzarul to give their enemy something to suffer."

It was sick, in Heon's opinion. He wasn't particularly a devoted believer, as stated before. Hearing that brought his mind to that film he watch on a piracy site. Incantation, or something – where people prayed to a god and then spread their curse so that it would be bearable and less deadly.

"I wonder why there is a God of Suffering in the first place. Aren't gods supposed to be good?"

Once again, Azran shrugged her shoulders. "Everything should be in balance. All good and evil. Black and white."

That was the concept of Yin and Yang. Heon knew that much. He just didn't think that something from his world would be well regarded – and believed – in a parallel world like this.

To say so, he kind of wondered if perhaps this world, too, was the exact opposite of his own world. Because as a well-mannered, ordinary high school student that he was, the posters plastered on the wall depicted him as a murderer of the highest authority in this entire kingdom.

Does this mean that there was another Heon of this world – one that truly was the kingslayer? The evil of his good?

"Anyway, why are you asking me about gods in the first place?"

"Because our destination, Eckelt Island, used to be called the Island of Gods."

___

Ecklet Island, or Island of Gods, was a region located in the Kingdom of Bahran Pasai. The island itself was the westernmost of the kingdom, making it the nearest region to Lecraid Kingdom's border.

It was renowned for its highly developed arts, including dance, sculpture, painting, leather, metal working, and music. The region itself was Bahran Pasai's main tourist destination, while the upland town of Kopen was considered Ecklet's cultural center.

Throughout the year, there were many festivals celebrated locally or island-wide according to the calendars.

Heon didn't know what calendars they used here, but he knew that the current festival this island would celebrate tonight was to honour the late king – Verghan Basha.

"Why do they celebrate a king's death?" Heon asked in a hushed voice to the only girl in their bunch.

"Really now?" It was Sunny who answered him. "As the one who killed the king, you should be the one leading this festival."

Heon tried to ignore the blond's word, but it was proven pointless. He didn't like being labelled with a horrendous act he never did. "Can we pretend that I'm not the killer for once?"

"Dude, you're the one who probably calls me a bloody murderer in your head. Don't be a hypocrite."

Sunny was right, he was the biggest hypocrite of all. Looking sorry for a second, Heon then continued. "Then, let's not call each other names and someone at least answer my question. I'm dying to know here."

The blond healer mage burst out laughing, while Azran let out a chuckle. "Nice."

Heon huffed, and turned his head to the side. Annoyed by them.

They were walking with their hoods covering their hair, faces downed to minimise the chance of people catching sight of Heon's infamous mug. Thankfully, the people here had yet to turn on their lamps, making it possible for them to go around in the crowded evening.

After a while, Azran cleared her throat. "To answer your question, we don't celebrate death itself."

That brought his attention back to the green-haired girl's face and away from the giant wooden statue of what he assumed to be king Verghan's depiction. "Then what?"

"It's a farewell party. The soul went to the Land of the Dead, a place so much better than this world."

"So, you believe in the afterlife? But not reincarnation?" Heon asked, because Sunny had made a fool of him for it.

"There is no reincarnation, idiot."

"But I–"

"Have you died?"

I think someone killed me, Heon wanted to say that. But he had told Sunny that, and the blond healer mage had taken that as a joke. He didn't want Azran to think so too.

So, to change the subject, Heon merely asked, "Where are we going to meet your people, anyway?"

"He's not my people," Azran said. "He's a respected man in this kingdom, so you better keep that in mind." But then, she muttered, "Even though he's a freak."

The boys shared a look.

"And," Azran skipped ahead, and knocked on an unsuspecting wooden door along this alley. "We're here."

The door opened, and an old, bald man's head appeared. "Oh, if it isn't the princess. Come in, come in."

Once again, the boys shared a look.

"… princess?"