Paradise beneath the heavens- The Ancient Memory:
The Lord’s son, Zevro had discovered the perfect world where apathy was diminished. His sparkling eyes bursting with bliss as he stared at the stunning landscape of planet Earth from the gleaming mountain top. Both of his gentle hearts were now racing and quickly violence was bleached with peace. The professor had diversified his knowledge, teaching him scriptures of magical history and the ancient languages of the early Gods. All the practises he mastered enabled him to escape the devious kingdom and enter a place where navy seas gently shrilled the rhythmic tunes.
This hidden location was dearly to him: it cleared his cloudy mind making him question his peculiar reasons. He knew now was a treacherous time, his father was becoming weaker physically yet more mentally. The Lord’s dry thirst and everlasting hunger for power made him a feeble being-which could easily be doubted by the superiors of the dusky kingdoms of Frarr, Jollon and Bromacc. His inevitable thinking even made the disrespected Master Zachsror, the dark magician who claimed that he had been possessed with the holy soul of the Greek god ‘Hádēs’- think that an alliance with such Lord would only mean downfall. The crude pathetic actions of his father didn’t matter to him as they could not displease him because the kingdom of Articcus held no value beneath his chest yet they couldn’t anger him because he felt bizarrely detached from his father.
Here he used to remember those faint memories which could never be painted by lively colours-the supreme kingdom standing elevated silently. Even when he was a young’un the times were challenging and the chaotic community in the land of Articcuss were indignant, fed with lies and riddles by the lords of the empires. Jokes aside these were grown men causing agony. As a child roaming around the streets- he saw men who were betrayed every day and their tongues never held significance. Women were raped and assaulted by resilient soldiers who only took but never gave.
The Lord cared for Zevro and raised him a bold young man but not with love and calmness yet with weaponry and technique. Father raised him a true zaman not a regular human, teaching him tricks and traits of the ancestors- the hard, the brutal and the indestructible. The House itself represented war and family members were soldiers who followed orders given by his so called ‘highness’- To Zevro this was never a home but a facility where the strongest were reputed while the weaker appeared in dim shadows. The lord planned his son to become the ultimate warrior who would murder pleasurably- sprinkling the aroma of arid blood like the everlasting plague. Teaching him the motion of a Xiphos sword to perfect his ability and providing education to help his analytical knowledge which would hold great importance in battle.
The brightness of the sun was now decreasing as the bright blue sky changed to pitch black. The stars twinkled individually in a manner that made them appear in gorgeous arrangements, each time he squinted a different idea formed in his mesmerising mind.
The darkness didn’t frighten him because he had adapted to more than just vile atmospheres. He rated the suns beauty equivalent to the grey moons. It eased him as the waves of air circled his muscular body because the ‘whooshing’ sound let mankind know that it was there time to rest bones while the unknown creatures roamed the lonely forests and mountains. In this cold place he felt superior, just like Zeus- he knew he could see the invisible and the undiscovered, but he also knew even they respected the race of man just as he did.
He quickly gripped on to one of the claws of the spikey mountain where he sat all day recollecting memories, swinging his dark powerful leg which was mildly covered with a milk coloured cloth. Soon as he swung his whole body swiftly moved making him fall just below the area where he was steadily sitting. He observed the surface which seemed darker than the obscure skies and dived into trouble without any hint of terror, although he knew that death could never be the consequence he never relished this act because it made him feel unalike. He jumped, the pressure of the winds tried to push him but to him it was an enjoyable breeze- seconds later hastily he had disappeared just like the sizzling sun. Soon as he was nowhere to be seen there was an elongated moment of awkward silence. Although there were no mortals or immortals even a slight bit near the cold-hearted location, the atmosphere had changed as the whistling winds had now become more violent. The brightening moon searched for him as they had eye contact with each other for some time. The mountain which Zevro sat on had lost its treasurable warmth and now correlated with the other ice-covered overlapping mountains.
Suddenly, the beautifully structured dream was over.
The professor used to convey that magic is not a substance nor is it mystical wording which can cause the irregular. It is an inventive theory and the extraordinary lost works of their holy divinities- which enables ones thoughts to dominate reality. It is alleged that the idea of ‘magic’ was to be conceived and then destroyed, so any creature that was born could never have the authority to consider such powerful information which could lead to extinct existence. The blessed book of Morgue stated “The greatest form of evil is man”-when this was recited, the reactions were unstable because security for one’s own blood was greater than any other. The world Zevro grew up in, a man or woman would feed their stomach till it could take no more- children were never the true hearts priority. Zevro had his own interpretation that taking such line literally meant man was himself not society.
The professor-the one Zevro believed was most imperative, although different genetic information their relationship was something blood couldn’t value. His kind and elegant ways which were always showered with moral grace were things that the mentee absorbed into the core of his pumping hearts. A true intellectual who had grew up with his dreary father and even the Lord truly prized him for his appreciated attributes and sense of humour.
Professor had been educated the memories and thoughts by his father, just holy ideas which had been moulded into a dream to remove stress. To the professor this was a work of a great artist who knew the gesture of an elongated brush which could flicker the brightest yet beautiful colours that sprayed all across the exquisite planet. But even the provider of the data had no idea that such dreams were genuine and the imagination was just thinking of an existing creation. The professor was a man of philosophy, arts, sciences and religions- he used to mutter “We know so much that death is definite, we’re twisting science and religion. Magic and our thoughts have become our way of this hopeless life. God forgive us.” He never actually loved it like Zevro. Now that the professor was reaching the last years of his long life, it was a despairing plan to tell him that there is more to the theory of Gods. So Zevro never expressed it because he wanted his guru to die peacefully.
The dream of Earth was actually a living reality not a thought which could ease a soul and dream which could be most enjoyable.
He was no longer In Earth.
Zevro’s eyes were now squinting and he was slowly waking up after the rapid disappearance. He moved his brawny hands which were covered with rough leather to make sure no disease could be bought upon him; rubbing them across the surface he felt a slight tingle in the weirdest way. Suddenly he got up from his back still half-sitting and stared at the two ancient thick trees which stood strong and were wrapped with reddish leafs, both still and near to each other. The trees looked so deep-rooted that death by old age wouldn’t be a surprise. They were held by eroded string which had been nailed firmly into the light green floor. He stretched his veiny neck which led him to tilt his head in a way that showed the beautiful colours of the floor gradually fading to the shades of black, an invaluable thought settled in his mind- “Contamination”. Such thought never reached his tongue because even he knew his intelligent mind had just bluffed- the honest yet foolish reason was horrific bloodshed. He got up, still struggling. He walked slowly loosely pacing himself in a relaxed manner but dragging his left leg abnormally which made him seem a clumsy man- something he never was. He was still confused; the aftershock was always the wickedest after transferring from the dreamland. Although there were distressing effects after the “switch”, short term memory loss wounded him internally creating a high pitched noise which made his brain uncontrollable. The gradual peaceful process ended with a never ending hangover because of his addiction of pleasuring his mind.
This always happened, the after-pain. Zevro had now fully recovered remembering the reasons of the newly developed distress, he was standing in the middle of Forest Agar; the lonely wasteland where agriculture was rotten but there stood two strong and bold trees. He saw with his eyes held below his frowning eyebrows, the silent land didn’t whisper. The wind wasn’t present and humidity had reached its peak. He recognised some features of the garden of Articcuss, as all of his training was done here precisely. But this was wrong; the tall trees had life beyond them. Neither was this beautiful Earth nor the horrendous kingdom of Articuss. His hearts skipped thumps almost falling into his ripped stomach- never, had he experienced such event? He questioned himself the rhetorical so even he knew this was pointless. Suddenly his weaknesses had become visible, his fears of the faults in magical scriptures made him think twice before his actions. Now he started to walk towards the unseen, hardly breathing. Another side to Zevro was quickly revealed.
Generally, your errors are run-on sentences and comma issues, as well as a mistake I noticed with there/their/they're. I think with careful editing you can take care of those issues. Now, for your overall wording. I actually thought it was kind of bizarre. You made comparisons that don't really make sense, used words that in that context, make no sense, etc. I think you were trying your hardest to avoid anything even resembling a cliche, which is fine, but you need to make sure your replacements make sense and won't confuse the reader. I don't think you did that, but editing could help it. Also, some idioms are okay to use. 
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