The sand ever so shiny, the sky ever so blue, the sea ever so green. A beach with the following properties, and not to forget, filled with coconut trees. Ain’t that a paradise that could light up anyone’s heart? The waves ever so calmly. With the breeze blowing towards the seaside. A sea breeze indeed. Correction, a paradise indeed. But the thing about one’s paradise is that it varies among different peoples. Especially when it’s to the villagers of Gothania.
Gothania , like any other village, is filled with people. People who call themselves Gothanian. For them, Paradise is something that resembles death. They do not cry over people dying. They feel happy for them. For it resembles darkness, the dusk of Man. They do not cry nor weep. For that’s not what they do. Paradise for them are graveyards, for graveyards resembles death, and for them, a sanctuary. Lemonni, Lemonni Cricket is a Gothanian. But the thing about Lemonni is that he is different from the others.