Chapter 2 – Erasing the Legends
Before me stands a man with only a
half-human face with the rest of him being that of a slimy and slithering
monster and a vaguely human head on one of his arms with long flowing black hair.
He’s a legend that goes by the name Lucanus. When he was overcome with grief at
the loss of his mother, he sought the monster of the seas, found a cave system
that led to the bottom of the ocean, and spoke with the monster he was
searching for. In exchange for worship, the monster granted his mother life by
attaching him to his body. To this very day, he’s been worshipping the
monster of the seas and converting others to do so.
Right now, I watch as he uselessly
tries to get to me since my one arm has turned the floor around him into ice. Lucanus
falls again and again on his face while never losing his will to continue. In
fact, he might be getting angrier after every fall. This is both somewhat funny
and sad to watch as a living legend struggles to even stand against me. What’s
also strange for me to look at is the dark hole in his chest, which I can feel emanating
an icy chill that’s colder than the ice he’s slipping on even though I’m
standing far away from him.
Finally, after watching Lucanus
slip and fall over and over again, my hand twists and moves to control the ice beneath
Lucanus to make it jut up from the ground and impale his body before tossing it
into the sea. Large tentacles then emerge from the sea and pull the city behind
me into it. As this is happening, I am immediately teleported outside of it in an
instant.
While watching the last buildings
of the once immaculate city be pulled into the ocean, I say to myself, “Maybe
my name should really be Ruin as my parents named me.”
“You are what I called you after I saved
you from your family and orphanage. You are Mar,” my God says from behind me.
“I am glad that you saved me from
being sacrificed to strange gods. I always have been.”
Still, I can’t help but feel as if
the name Ruin fits me. My life’s story should also be something grander since I
was saved and raised by the God of Heaven ever since I was little. At least I think
it should be though I guess I can’t complain about that anymore since it’s now
turning out to be more special with all these heroes I’m defeating. An apple
instantly appears in my hand. I move my mask aside that still sticks to my head
and eat it as I think of what the overall grand goal of my God is and what I will
get out of it.
Why make some build an ark and make
me take out heroes one after the other? Will I be rewarded with a kingdom of my
own? Maybe I’ll be given riches and land so I can live peacefully in isolation.
Perhaps I’ll be known as a hero above all heroes and my God will be recognized
as the God above all gods. That last one seems more likely to me than the others
since my God isn’t a fan of worldly wealth and people. As soon as I take the
last bite of my apple, I am instantly transported to a new location.
“What happened to flying to places?”
I ask.
“My timing will not allow that.
Societal and spiritual decay is forcing My hand to enact justice on the guilty
earlier rather than later,” my God says.
“I see. Let’s not waste any more
time then.”
Again, I am transported in the
blink of an eye to the place where God wants me. I am surrounded by huts made
of stone and rocks all of which are marked with symbols and stories of each
inhabitant written on them. The house in front of me that’s the biggest, has
the most varied kind of stones, and the most writing on it is probably the home
of the person I’m looking for. Sure enough, a living legend walks out of it.
The man carries two daggers and is clothed with the skin of wild beasts and men
that hardly hide the black hole in his chest and the writing on his entire body
and face that detail his greatest victories.
Xanthos is the man’s name and is a mercenary for his god of victory and valor. He and his followers are said
to live out here since they want to live for virtue and their god appearing to
be like mine makes them outcasts. As he approaches me, he squints his eyes
before sheathing his daggers and offering me his hand to shake.
“Welcome, brother,” Xanthos says.
Confused, my arm shakes as if torn between
two wills before I shake his hand. Does my God want me to kill or befriend him?
“Do you know me? Have we met
before?” I ask.
“Our God has granted me a vision of
your arrival in my dreams. Your name is Mar, correct?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Then there’s no reason to be so cautious
of me. You can calm your shaking.”
“I’m not doing the shaking. Our God
has control over my powers.”
“If He has control over your
powers, then they’re not really yours, are they?”
“I guess you could say that, but my
life is still mine despite it being dedicated to Him.”
“Isn’t part of your life your own?
Sure, God has a good portion of it, but you also have your own where you do
what you want to do.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Maybe we don’t serve the same God
after all. Come on out everyone! We must pray over our lost brother to save him
from the false version of our God!”
Many people with writing on their
bodies come out, form a circle around me, and start to pray. My body feels less
twitchy, but something is still wrong about this.
“Don’t resist the effects of our
prayers, Mar,” Xanthos says. “Our God has brought you here for purification and
to give you a home far from the reach of the pagans and heretics.”
“A home? A real home with people who
worship the same God as me?”
“Yes! Now, allow us to free you so
that you may be with us.”
This seems too good to be true, so,
as in everything, I give you control, my God. My shaking stops along with my nerves as my hands move into a praying position. From my clenched praying hands,
a green mist seeps out and spreads throughout the settlement of stone and
suffocates everyone to death with its fumes.
“I guess…I guess it really was too
good to be true,” I say.
For some reason, I am unable to
move from my current position and simply fall to my knees in prayer. Perhaps I
am meant to pray for the souls of those who just died. Xanthos did say we
worshipped the same God, so perhaps there’s a chance they repented at the time
of their death or because they were close to the truth. It is possible they
went to the place where my God cleanses souls before bringing them to the place
of rest in the underworld, so I pray silently until I am interrupted by the sound
of horses making their way to me. As I stand up and turn around, I see that the
people on horses have holes in their chests and the one that is leading the group
of five is a man with most of his face missing, his teeth showing for all to
see, a hole in his chest, red eyes, black gauntlets and armor, and one of his
arms being a spear-like blade.
Scipio is the name of this man or
at least I think it is. It’s said that he is the conqueror of gods because of
his stubborn will. He’s a mysterious wanderer who’s said to go from place to
place and replace the gods of people with himself so that he is worshipped
instead. Are these people with holes in their chests the gods he’s conquered?
The horses they ride on also have holes in their chest, and before I can think about
it more, they change into a more human form and all approach me with sinister
looks on their faces.
“We came here to collect our tithe
from these people, but it looks like you’ve killed them all. Care to explain
yourself?” Scipio says in a tone of voice that sounds similar to the sound of a
serpent.
“They died because my God wanted
them dead and used me to kill them,” I say.
“Ah, so you’re another tool for the
so-called divine. I conquered their god and many other gods. The ones surrounding
me tell me how you feel, how scared you are, and that you want more than just
to serve your God. You want to be loved and honored like the heroes and legends
of today. You want to be like me.”
“You’re wrong!”
“Then why are you shaking so much?
I’m at the very least partially true. The thought of going against your God of
the Heavens, truth, and love is constantly on your mind and you are
always in danger of going against Him. Do it. Give into your heart’s desire and
you can become a legend like me.”
I struggle to move or do anything.
Even my thoughts and prayers are all jumbled because of the voices of the gods in
my head.
“Let’s work together on this,”
Scipio says, “Your God is just another one I have to conquer and I’ve conquered
many like Him. If you help me, I’ll let you tag along with me as my henchman. I’ve
always wanted a successor.”
In this dire situation, I have only
one course of action, which is the one that I’ve always had. I let go of control
of myself and give control and my full trust over to my God. My body stops
shaking and my arms welcome Scipio as he approaches me. Thinking he’s won, he
comes towards me until he is stopped by one of the gods and then by more of
them that surround him. He tries to get them out of his way, but no matter what
he does, he is unable to do anything against him and they end up dragging him
into the earth. Wow. That was something else that I didn’t expect to happen at
all.
“I am master over all, even my
enemies,” my God reminds me.
“Of course, of course,” I say with
a bit of jealousy within me.
Master even over my enemies…
“The enemy that you should master
is the one within and never doubt that I am always with you.”
“Yes, I know. So, where to next?”
Silence fills the air. “Lord?”
My body moves on its own, goes over
to a tree to make fruit instantly grow and fall from it, and sits down. Okay, it’s break
time now, I guess. I need it after what I’ve been through anyway.
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