Monday, April 20, 2020

A Timely Tale

Listen and understand. I tell this story as bidden by Oddurum, Who is Lord of Vengeance.

Once there was a great nation. They were mighty, and they were wealthy, for they had made all other nations of the world their enemies, one by one, and plundered them all. And they were arrogant, and held themselves to be the sole beloved of the gods, of whom they acknowledged only one: and some have said it was Barolan, for they honored strength and pitilessness and scorned to help others. And some have said it was The Old Thin One, for they thought cruelty a virtue and kindness a sin. And some have said that such was the extent of their arrogance that the dared attempt to worship the Great Father of Spirits, whose will none knows.

But the people of this nation began to grow old, as all people must. And they were troubled, for they had plundered all other nations, and there was nothing left to steal, yet their hearts knew nothing nothing else but dreams of greed to delight in. So they turned on their own nation, and plundered their fields and their palaces, and enslaved their own children. And there went up a great cry to the heavens, calling for aid, and for justice.

Then Setirov, Lord of the Breath of the Earth, did hear, and his anger was roused. And he laid a curse upon the elders of the nation, that all their lies should be taken away, and the heart of every one of them should be laid bare, and that no mask should suffice to conceal aught. And the elders stood exposed in all their greed, cruelty, and foolishness with every word they said, for all to see. Yet their arrogance only grew, and they would not acknowledge the truth that all the people could see.

Then Barolan, Who Howls the Light of Dawn, did hear, and his anger was roused. And he laid a curse upon the nation, that the sun should bear dear upon it, that its fields should be dry and barren, that it's air be hot, that it's lands become as deserts. And when the rains came, they came too hard, and too fiercely, and too much, and there were great hurricanes and floods, for Setirov's anger was unappeased. Yet the arrogance of the elders only grew, and they consulted together, and worked it so that all the brunt of the curse of Barolan was born by their slaves and the other plundered nations, and none by them.

Then Oddurum, Lord of Vengeance, arose. And he heard the cry of the people, which had ceased to ask for aid, and had ceased to ask for justice, and now asked only for vengeance. And he saw that the gods, too, had been wronged, for the wrath of Setirov and Barolan was in vain, and though he held Barolan his enemy he yet had rightful claim to be avenged. So he took him to the dark heart of the mountain which is sacred to him, and he brooded on vengeance, and he sang of terrible things, and the merest breath went up the throat of the mountain. Invisible it slipped into the world. Untastable it went among the peoples of the nation. Unstoppable it reached every corner of the world, for the arrogance of the elders scorned to take any caution or believe any warning or seek any medicine. And behold: on the breath was a plague such as none had ever seen before. For it struck down the old, and spared the young.

And some say that in the wake of it there was peace, for that nation was broken and humbled, and the people of it were as those who went out from the lost city of the Old Thin One, that though there scattered and divided and their might was reduced, they were at last set free. But others say that the wrath of Oddurum is heavier than that, and that this tale is the only trace of that nation that remains.

And what the truth of that is, the gods know, not I.

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