The two paths of Jüla (Story I'm working on set in an old vibrant kingdom)

A story surrounding two great paths of Jüla, one slope leading to the straight market of the city of bliss and the other road, leading up to the piligrimage. Those look like long wide bridges to whoever enters the kingdom. The canyon hosts the wide garden filled with the heaven made on earth that leaks scents and musks at day, and winks golden floating dots in nights. Fireflies illuminate paths. The first pathway is not paved while the piligrimage is exquisitely brickbond white. The rain washes whatever off tones reach the piligrimage to the first path, never paved, soily. Always in petrichor. But the holy path... It is dabbed everyday by fragrances made by the family of Lahmina. Lahmina you see, was famous for her sense of smell for she had a nose to match. They say her family has noses twice as long, and sensitive too. The Lahmina family made great doctors. They can sense if people have their stomachs in balance. People come to the doctor asking, and more than once, just by noticing the person's breath, the doctor treated for pancreatic cancers I have heard. Quite a gift God has gifted, and they are pious for it. 'The market' is a straight street filled with the worldly offerings. Noise has become music for vendors, because of the prosperity they found here. Every vendor does plan of piligrimage. They want to look down to the market in the rank they paid for: a hill of silver and gold. That's the dream of the religious here. But alas, scarce will be people in such a worldly place where not God would provide before any merchant. (I just realised they are called merchants because they 'chant', prices and names and such....merchants) ....And scarce will be a place with religion where the beneficiaries believe they're doing God's work, of providing. The norm is Merchants are religious, majorly. And the people, customers, spoiled with the kingdom's riches. The outskirts of the kingdom are walled with iron nets as high as Twenty-five Elephants stacked on top of each other. And scarce are elephants outskirts. It was planned by the first king of kingdom Jüla. He had done it to protect the people from the maddening disease that infected animals and insects alike to be savage, even for not food. The first kingdom that dealt with the maddening disease couldn't survive. It started with a splash of rain in the nearby forest followed by a green rainbow. The kingdom of Azuk was extinct in exactly 11 days. Those 11 days, the Azukians were very very vocal. They wrote whole books in that time while its brave soldiers barricaded the innocents in their safety. Surely every sin was washed away in those hurried days. They repented their past sins, hoping this 'curse', this order of God to the animals to do bad of people would turn in favor. The belief was washed away when the Azukian army stratergized amazing tactics. Generals made notes of past and ancient wars. As cruel as it May sound, camels were sent running towards herds of savage animals, carrying barrels filled with gun-powder, aimed on by multiple archers. It was an inspiring sight, sacrificing a life to save many. One could see the flashing explosions from the castle walls. Many of the camels got pulled in the bloodthirsty herds without a quick death. A script wrote 'One of our archers missed a shot on the saviour camel. The flaming arrow stuck lower on his right back leg. It collapsed on the herd of beasts. I saw those cruel herds were collective of herbivores too! I saw carnivore cattle! Sheep tearing skin off of hunger for meat. The herd dissipated quickly into the shadows of the forest. Those full barrels filled with explosives too hid from sight.' Then came the flood. Crocodiles and Anacondas kept to grab Azukian soldiers. The explosives floated back to us as great aid. The first wave of water fetched with mad carnivores was immensely devasting. The King sent army squads for timber in the mangroves on boats. The castle was near a mangrove, just 15 minutes apart on calm horses. In two days, a loose, but high dam was made to keep the crocodiles out. Snakes were speared to death. What only the doctors of Azuk predicted got out of hand. The water went stagnant. Soldiers got sick, natives too. There came the final wave. Swarms of mosquitoes and similar bugs. As dense as to make the moon look like eclipse. The swarms dimmed the days like clouds and the nights got pitch dark. Most wood was soaked and what the soldiers fetched from the mangroves was asked to be turned into burning torches seasoned in every drop of oil the fields of Azuk had cultivated. A torch was forged in part of a greater plan. The priests lit it with two chaqhmaqh stones and the cloth soaked in sunflower caught the sparks like blessings. It was handed to the king in the hurry of the moment. The king made a quick speech. His highness was talking hurriedly. Like he was making an oath. In his smooth voice he says, 'We shake the hand of the smith who forged us these weapons. We will protect the farmer who grew sunflowers which fuel this fire. We will be back to our children with hunts most exotic and gift our queen with the naagmani that crowns demon snakes, God willing or else. Be that on The Snake God himself, I will snatch it out of his head!' Saying this, the king passes the burning torch to his general. The king speaks louder to the assembly. Our hearts are wanting. Wanting for life most. How our Gods force us to take lives of animals, an act I will do for my people. Term me cruel for turning this night into day! I will boil the swamp that has trapped us! We will be leaking barrels full of oils in the swamps that have us jailed. A spark of this mantle ought to show those beasts a way home. (Make the story go like...the explosive barrels deposit outside the castle, and the fire sets those off. The flaming waters enter the kingdom. Big oopsie, trouble)