<----- Previous thread
Suffice to say, Kovic was very pleased. He wondered how the male had entered the den without making a sound, and he realized he had never checked to see if the door was closed. Nonetheless, he could fix that mistake now, and be on his way. However, Kovic felt that uncomfortable sensation in him once again. If he killed him, he thought, he’d be leaving another uneaten body behind. Meat was not to be wasted under any circumstance. At the same time, Kovic needed a break or two for his body to return to his usual form, for he couldn’t just stroll onto his tavern looking like he was. Not if he wanted more mortals to bow down to him. Thankfully, Kovic had an idea.
“Why do you weep, mortal?” he asked, his voice modulated and soft, with a weird inflection behind every word.
“I don’t want to die,” replied the male, his previously silent cries now becoming audible. “Please do not kill me.”
“I seek not your death, mortal. Raise your head, and raise your eyes.”
He did. The sentiments within him had not changed at the slightest; if anything, they were growing worse. “Are you an Immortal?”
“What makes you say that?” asked Kovic.
“Everyone… Everyone’s dead.”
“Oh,” Kovic looked over his head, with a slow and elegant grace he tried to fake. An Immortal sounded like a title he did quite enjoy. “I killed none of them.” He then looked back towards the male. “They killed themselves.”
Another wave of tears came from the Etzori. He was too shocked to realize someone had been chopping up and cooking the bodies.
Kovic took the moment to yawn deeply once again. “To answer your question, I am not an Immortal. Do you know what came before the Immortals?” Probably nothing, because the Immortals are immortal and they can’t die. Nothing can outlive an Immortal, or so Kovic thought.
“… the Original Beings?” replied the Etzori, dubious. “You are an Original Being?”
“Of course not,” replied Kovic, scoffing. Whoever had named the deities in this world had to take vocabulary classes. He made a long pause. “I created the Original Beings.”
“… but how…?”
“I divided myself in two, and my other half kept diving itself. Those divisions made the Original Beings.” Or something, thought Kovic.
“But they all died… right?”
“Yes,” answered Kovic. He knew nothing of this topic, but he knew how to lie. “Their own greed killed them.”
“What of the Immortals? Why do they live? Are they truly Immortal?”
Kovic, having spent two season in Etzos, had heard in many occasions how the citizens often boasted about wanting to kill an Immortal. Even his orphans were convinced they could. If everyone else says it, then it must be true. “They are not Immortal, for they are nothing. Weak and pathetic is what they are, shades of what I am and was. They live like you live; they breathe, they eat and they sleep.”
“But they have power and followers. Why?”
“Why?” Kovic quickly came up with an excuse. “Because I gave them power.”
“So, you gave them their domains?” asked the Etzori. He was curious, despite being scared, for apparently, he knew about this subject.
“Domains?”
“Their areas of influence. The aspects of life they control.”
“Ah,” replied Kovic, with a deep sigh. “Yes.”
“What is your domain, then?”
“I have no domain, for I am everything. I am life and death, joy and sadness, ice and fire, creation and destruction, the beginning and the end. I choose who becomes an Immortal, and who dies powerless in their sleep.”
To say that the Etzori was shocked would be a grave understatement. he bowed down once again, his head tightly against the bloody floor, and his thread released a long whine Kovic couldn’t quite decipher. Either Kovic was a great actor with a very-well done costume, or this individual was either gullible or stupid. Nonetheless, the actor was enjoying his public.
“Spare me, my liege,” asked the Etzori, suddenly seduced by the fake power he imagined. “Spare me and I shall serve you for all eternity.”
“Your end is nigh,” replied Kovic. “However, I will give you the chance to spare yourself, and spare the rest of Mortals with you.”
“Anything, my liege. Anything!”
Kovic took a moment to think. How could he get rid of this Etzori forever, and trust that he’d never tell the guards what had happened in this dead establishment? He had an idea, then.
“You will travel the world, and you will speak of me. You shall tell everyone you encounter about me, about my return. You will tell them the cleansing of this world will come. The Immortals they serve pale in comparison to my glory. On the day the world ends, if everyone you encounter had bowed down to me, I shall save all of you. If not, you will die and you will be forgotten. Go now, and do not return until this task is complete.”
The man stood up, took his torch, and made his way to the exit. He stopped, however, not daring to face the ‘deity’ in fear.
“My liege… What shall I say your name is?”
Good question, though Kovic.
“I have no name, for I am everything and nothing. However, shall you speak about me, you will refer to me as Mammon.”
And the Etzori was off, and he was never seen again.
“Paplo!” yelled Toom from the counter. “Where did you go last night?”
“I apologize for leaving without a word, but I needed to find a latrine quite urgently.” He replied, with a smile.
“Damn it, I had to call the guards on you.”
“I’m sorry, Toom.”
Toom was angry, or so it seemed. As Paplo began walking up the stairs, Toom whistled, waving a tar of oatmeal – the Second-Story Inn’s free breakfast for every tenant. Kovic looked at it, and he smiled, going back down the stairs, and setting that white bloodstained and sleeveless longboat in the stool next to him. He’d want to use his costume in the future. As Toom filled a bowl with oatmeal and milk – which was how Paplo liked – the drowsy teacher realized that he was feeling quite hungry.
It had been a long day. A school trip, a broken promise, a tease, a strike of hunger, a failed seduction, a fight, discoveries, experimenting and cooking. Little did Paplo know he had also started a religion by pure accident.
1st of Ashan, 716
5th Break
The face of the Etzori male spoke it all; surprise, fear, subordination. As it looked onto the extremely pale, weird-skinned, skull-headed, black-smoke swirling, claw-handed and claw-footed manhood-less individual, the torch he carried was dropped, and so was his body, for he fell onto his knees. His eyes teared up, afraid, knowing all too well the massacre that stood behind this… creature. He bowed to it, not daring to look at it a moment further, and he began to silently weep for his own life. 5th Break
Suffice to say, Kovic was very pleased. He wondered how the male had entered the den without making a sound, and he realized he had never checked to see if the door was closed. Nonetheless, he could fix that mistake now, and be on his way. However, Kovic felt that uncomfortable sensation in him once again. If he killed him, he thought, he’d be leaving another uneaten body behind. Meat was not to be wasted under any circumstance. At the same time, Kovic needed a break or two for his body to return to his usual form, for he couldn’t just stroll onto his tavern looking like he was. Not if he wanted more mortals to bow down to him. Thankfully, Kovic had an idea.
“Why do you weep, mortal?” he asked, his voice modulated and soft, with a weird inflection behind every word.
“I don’t want to die,” replied the male, his previously silent cries now becoming audible. “Please do not kill me.”
“I seek not your death, mortal. Raise your head, and raise your eyes.”
He did. The sentiments within him had not changed at the slightest; if anything, they were growing worse. “Are you an Immortal?”
“What makes you say that?” asked Kovic.
“Everyone… Everyone’s dead.”
“Oh,” Kovic looked over his head, with a slow and elegant grace he tried to fake. An Immortal sounded like a title he did quite enjoy. “I killed none of them.” He then looked back towards the male. “They killed themselves.”
Another wave of tears came from the Etzori. He was too shocked to realize someone had been chopping up and cooking the bodies.
Kovic took the moment to yawn deeply once again. “To answer your question, I am not an Immortal. Do you know what came before the Immortals?” Probably nothing, because the Immortals are immortal and they can’t die. Nothing can outlive an Immortal, or so Kovic thought.
“… the Original Beings?” replied the Etzori, dubious. “You are an Original Being?”
“Of course not,” replied Kovic, scoffing. Whoever had named the deities in this world had to take vocabulary classes. He made a long pause. “I created the Original Beings.”
“… but how…?”
“I divided myself in two, and my other half kept diving itself. Those divisions made the Original Beings.” Or something, thought Kovic.
“But they all died… right?”
“Yes,” answered Kovic. He knew nothing of this topic, but he knew how to lie. “Their own greed killed them.”
“What of the Immortals? Why do they live? Are they truly Immortal?”
Kovic, having spent two season in Etzos, had heard in many occasions how the citizens often boasted about wanting to kill an Immortal. Even his orphans were convinced they could. If everyone else says it, then it must be true. “They are not Immortal, for they are nothing. Weak and pathetic is what they are, shades of what I am and was. They live like you live; they breathe, they eat and they sleep.”
“But they have power and followers. Why?”
“Why?” Kovic quickly came up with an excuse. “Because I gave them power.”
“So, you gave them their domains?” asked the Etzori. He was curious, despite being scared, for apparently, he knew about this subject.
“Domains?”
“Their areas of influence. The aspects of life they control.”
“Ah,” replied Kovic, with a deep sigh. “Yes.”
“What is your domain, then?”
“I have no domain, for I am everything. I am life and death, joy and sadness, ice and fire, creation and destruction, the beginning and the end. I choose who becomes an Immortal, and who dies powerless in their sleep.”
To say that the Etzori was shocked would be a grave understatement. he bowed down once again, his head tightly against the bloody floor, and his thread released a long whine Kovic couldn’t quite decipher. Either Kovic was a great actor with a very-well done costume, or this individual was either gullible or stupid. Nonetheless, the actor was enjoying his public.
“Spare me, my liege,” asked the Etzori, suddenly seduced by the fake power he imagined. “Spare me and I shall serve you for all eternity.”
“Your end is nigh,” replied Kovic. “However, I will give you the chance to spare yourself, and spare the rest of Mortals with you.”
“Anything, my liege. Anything!”
Kovic took a moment to think. How could he get rid of this Etzori forever, and trust that he’d never tell the guards what had happened in this dead establishment? He had an idea, then.
“You will travel the world, and you will speak of me. You shall tell everyone you encounter about me, about my return. You will tell them the cleansing of this world will come. The Immortals they serve pale in comparison to my glory. On the day the world ends, if everyone you encounter had bowed down to me, I shall save all of you. If not, you will die and you will be forgotten. Go now, and do not return until this task is complete.”
The man stood up, took his torch, and made his way to the exit. He stopped, however, not daring to face the ‘deity’ in fear.
“My liege… What shall I say your name is?”
Good question, though Kovic.
“I have no name, for I am everything and nothing. However, shall you speak about me, you will refer to me as Mammon.”
And the Etzori was off, and he was never seen again.
------
Paplo left the establishment a few breaks afterwards, once his body was back into its original shape. With his clothes back on, he made his way towards his inn. The sun was rising on the horizon when he opened the front door.“Paplo!” yelled Toom from the counter. “Where did you go last night?”
“I apologize for leaving without a word, but I needed to find a latrine quite urgently.” He replied, with a smile.
“Damn it, I had to call the guards on you.”
“I’m sorry, Toom.”
Toom was angry, or so it seemed. As Paplo began walking up the stairs, Toom whistled, waving a tar of oatmeal – the Second-Story Inn’s free breakfast for every tenant. Kovic looked at it, and he smiled, going back down the stairs, and setting that white bloodstained and sleeveless longboat in the stool next to him. He’d want to use his costume in the future. As Toom filled a bowl with oatmeal and milk – which was how Paplo liked – the drowsy teacher realized that he was feeling quite hungry.
It had been a long day. A school trip, a broken promise, a tease, a strike of hunger, a failed seduction, a fight, discoveries, experimenting and cooking. Little did Paplo know he had also started a religion by pure accident.
