Beginning of Eph... it's not likely that he'd ever tell anyone this. I was quite
hesitant about posting this, it feels like revealing a secret haha.
But I dunno, in a way it's nice to have it out here and not just
in my head.
Genesis
THIS TALE BEGINS IN A WORLD FAR AWAY FROM OURS, where there once was a small land, wedged between a cold clear river and a low mountain range. There a people lived and what they called themselves has since long been forgotten.
The land was not generous there; the farmers had to work hard for their crops, and the woodworkers in the forest wore down their axes on the knotty toughwood trees. The hills were dry and the river was grey and cold. The people who lived there was of few words but with large hearts, and they loved songs and tales more than fights and bloodshed.
There were the silver-eyed river people, the brown-skinned forest people, the bead-adorned city dwellers, and the tall and proud farmers on the plains, and all of them bowed down to the same ruler and they all knew the same gods.
Our tale is of a man who lived among the river tribe; his name is as forgotten as his people, but we know that he collected stones and driftwood and other things the river brought, and life was sometimes cruel and sometimes kind, as it generally is. He wore his black hair long as was their custom and he had neither a wife nor a lover. He had some friends and perhaps he had been close to someone earlier in his life, but of that we can only guess.
♦
There had been a long, hot summer, and now the grey autumn had come. 'We need a new god', some of the people said, 'the winter will be long and cold and many will be left alone when their loved ones die. We need a new god for the lonely', and the ruler heard this.
One peculiar thing about this tale's people is that they created their own gods, because they had not been chosen by a god when the world still was new and fresh. The people still held bitterness in their hearts for this, and so they did not pray to the gods they created but left their burdens in their hands instead. There would never be a god of joy nor a god of life there, but for night and death and despair and many other terrible things they had gods — 'Let the people prosper and be joyful! Leave sadness, death and famine to the gods', they said.
The ruler were just and so a great drawing of lots was held, and every woman, man and child had their name on a small piece of paper, and every piece was laid down in a great stoneware pot. The ruler, a fair woman of the plains farmer people, held out her hand and called for silence, and every person who had gathered there held their breath and clenched their loved ones' hands, while their ruler reached into the pot and took a piece of paper, and read the name aloud.
♦
They came for him in the evening, when the sky had turned gold and red like blood; the man did not weep nor did he cry out, but closed his eyes and held out his hands and they bound them with a strong red rope. They led him to the middle of the city, to the great building of the gods, and there they dressed him in the ceremonial long black clothes and gave him a cup of thick bitter liquid, and he drank it and slept a dreamless sleep.
At dawn they woke him, and made him walk to the great mountain beside the city. Many people followed, singing and chanting, all of them grateful for not being the one to be sacrificed this day.
The man still did not weep. His hands were still bound with the red rope; not tight, his guards held no ill will in their hearts against him, and sometimes they gave him water to drink.
The road to the mountain was long and the sun was at its zenith when they reached the top. The priests and the people gathered around, and the man was led to a great stone altar; there he lay, unmoving, and for the first time tears ran down his cheeks, for he knew what lay ahead. There was clouds on the horizon now, great dark clouds filled with the promise of bad weather, but it was still some hours until it would come.
They slit his wrists with sharp knives, and red blood ran on the altar stone, and silver tears ran down his cheeks while life slowly left his body and pooled on the ground. The chanting of the priests and the singing of the people slowly faded, and at last he laid there cold and pale, eyes unseeing, and no heartbeat in his chest.
There was nothing in the darkness; he was nothing, he was everything. They chanted and sang, and the priests summoned the magic to replace his lifeblood with, and when he woke he was alone. His mind was reeling and his body did not obey him when he tried to rise; but eventually he managed to sit, and then he looked out over the mountaintop. There was his blood, soaked into the gravel, and far away down in the valley, the people were back in their homes.
It was a sickly twilight in the sky and the storm would be soon upon the valley; in his heart he knew what they had done and he wept bitterly. Never would he walk among his friends again, but they would sing of him and spin the new legends of the new god, and everything they said would become true. His head ached and his hands hung limply fom the pain in his wrists, but all he could think of was the new memories that flooded his mind; how he had come into existence when the stars were mere newborns, and how long and dark the years had been.
And so he closed his eyed and turned away from the valley, and began to walk away from the place that had been his home, into the mountain labyrinth, while the storm began to rage above his head.
The people in the valley never saw him again, but they sang of their new god, and spun their tales about him. He lived far away at the end of the world, they said, where the land was barren and no man thread, and he had taken all their loneliness with him when he left.
Aaah there's more! Love this! Will look forward to reading more! It's really interesting to read this and to me doesn't make Eph less interesting now that a 'secret has been revealed'. It gives a nice understanding, or backstory to him.
Anyway. You're such a good writer too, and I loved to read this in a storytellers voice.
Secret revealed! Told you how much I loved this last night, I was excited to get to read the rest of it here now. You’re an amazing writer Apel, I’d never be able to guess you’re not a native English speaker if I hadn’t been told! I think the “storybook” style you choose to write this in is perfect and you show a nice mastery of it even. I like the premise of it, that the people create the Gods to their whim and to carry their burdens. Ephiré is a God but it’s a condition that’s a curse and that makes him all the more intriguing.
This was a great read, you have a wonderful knack for fables.
It's funny, I can't get the idea out of my head that could be one of many 'true' stories the river people told. One of many possibilities.
Mis: Aw, thank you! Not sure if there will be more, at least not from this time period I think. Maybe I'll elaborate on his human life someday, but I dunno.
GB: Thanks! Yeah, his past is not a particularly bright story, haha.
Sight: *overwhelmed by nice comment* I have no idea but what to say but thanks and I'm glad you like it and the idea! <3
Tera: Thanks, I like to try to explore different writing styles. Some feels easier than others. Hehe, for the river people it is a true story -- it's just what happened. But I can imagine them telling it later.
Kao: Yeah, me too ;_; I don't think it's a very nice experience to become a god and know that you'll live forever. Especially not one of this people's gods.
The illustrations remind me of an artist book; layers of paper and stitching to make the lines. Really generates that "Story book feel" everyone has mentioned. I loved reading about this story, has a lot of dual meanings in it. More than that it is really quite poignant. I love reading about Ephires past.
Well done!
Aaah there's more! Love this!
Anyway. You're such a good writer too, and I loved to read this in a storytellers voice.
I was very excited to see
It's beautiful Apel.
Secret revealed! Told you
This was a great read, you
It's funny, I can't get the idea out of my head that could be one of many 'true' stories the river people told. One of many possibilities.
I just want to hug him. And
And it's a twist of a tale- most people -want- to be Gods in stories- he does not, right away.
Mis: Aw, thank you! Not sure
GB: Thanks! Yeah, his past is not a particularly bright story, haha.
Sight: *overwhelmed by nice comment* I have no idea but what to say but thanks and I'm glad you like it and the idea! <3
Tera: Thanks, I like to try to explore different writing styles. Some feels easier than others. Hehe, for the river people it is a true story -- it's just what happened. But I can imagine them telling it later.
Kao: Yeah, me too ;_; I don't think it's a very nice experience to become a god and know that you'll live forever. Especially not one of this people's gods.
Beautiful.
omg I loved this..
Lung and Wocio: Thank you
e; also nice to meet Fangorn earlier, wocio!
Added some pictures, might
You are so good at adapting
Aw, thank you! It was really
Those art pieces really
Oh! Illustrations now, these
The illustrations remind me
Well done!
Wow, just wow. So very glad
Thank you, GB and
Parrots: Yeah, they remind me of handmade brownish paper, kind of. Thank you :]
Dinamo: Thanks!
Loved reading this. It's