BOOK II
SUSCROFA
This new figure, humanity, had existed for a mere many million years
when Sån, the great eye, had a horrible feeling impregnated inside her.
As Sån, daughter of Faír, stared down on the earth from the distance of
the cosmos, she grimly recalled the horrific events at the home of Suscrofa,
a recent occurrence—at least to the gods above—and only barely rumored.
Deeply disgusted and heavily enraged, as only the sun could be as such,
she called an assembly of all the other gods and all replied to her call.
Some arrived immediately; others did so reluctantly after feeling like
doing nothing all day; others refused to show up, much to the chagrin
of the middle group. Sån harangued and screamed at these gods to
show up for the meeting, whether they wanted to or not.
In nights without clouds and light pollution, a faint swirl of light can
be seen; it can be viewed next to the throne of the vain queen Cassiopeia
and pointed at by her servant Schedar; you can also find this swirl hovering
over the middle of the topmost streamer of the Square of Pegasus, when it
can be seen on its side as a diamond, a square on its side.
It is known to men as the Andromeda galaxy, most famous for its whiteness
and subsequently the outrage, hate, and oppression it receives from left-wing
Zoomers. This is the path the gods must travel to the palace of the mighty sun.
The highly-crowded halls of marble all around the palace, protected behind
a pair of grand, golden gates, are the home of the highest gods.
The everyday deities reside outside, upon the jagged crags of Jolí;
inside the halls, under the starry ceilings supported by elongated golden
beams with no apparent top, is where the elite gods have established their homes.
And Jolí is the place where, if I could muster the hardihood to say so,
I'd not be scared to describe as the Capitol Hill of the firmament—
at least, not the current state of it anyway.
After the gods had taken seats at the massive table, queenly Sån,
enthroned on her might dais, shook the long, blonde locks of her
hair four times, temporarily disrupting all communication on the earth,
then opened her mouth to exude her fury in this specific manner:
“The fear and dread I feel in my hot heart this moment for the
autonomous dominance of the universe is equal to when the
Lest, our offspring, were being and thus threatening our control
over all the cosmos and make it in their own thoughts.
Like the vile Lest before them just for existing, I now am forced
to commit all of humanity to death and destruction wherever
the ocean lusts over the earth and kept away from the great turtle.
By the flowing water of the Delaware River below, I swear to us
that I will do it! This species is a disease beyond remedy!
We have our demigods, those powerful deities of the country
including nymphs and other beasts, the aquatic creatures
residing in the lakes of the world. These beings we have not
selected to join us in celestial privileges.
Since they have survived the destruction of the lizards many chapters ago,
in the previous book, do you honors feel that their well-being is secure
when I, the sun that sees all, the reason all life exists, the master of
all you gods, am the victim of plots cooked up by that vile monster Suscrofa?”
The palace was outraged; reason and rationality were pushed aside and
emotions dominated their minds as they called for the life of the malcontent.
All of humanity was stricken with a terrible dread of horrific disaster
that would inevitably arrive and the earth shivered in fear.
The gods were so loyal to Sån that a mere mutter from the queen was
enough to control and calm the loud hubbub; silence fell upon all the gods.
Sån then broke the silence again, like she did at the beginning of
the meeting, to announce this: “Suscrofa has been punished for her crimes,
rest assured; just let me tell of her transgressions and describe the punishment
that she had received in return.
Evil rumors were flying around and reached my ears. Athirst to disprove
these claims, I descended the crags of Mount Jolíand roamed the earth,
a goddess in the form of a mortal. To recount the total amount of evil
and doom would be too lengthy and ghastly to repeat, and the author
has been busy with work and easy distractions to even get this book published!
My discoveries were nothing like the rumors spread around; indeed, the truth
was much, much worse. Passing through these mountains—Fauve, the multicolored
home of the wild beasts, and Jaîpoînt, filled with aged hippies and hillbillies,
I discovered the domain of Suscrofa. I had given a sign that a god had
arrived in the village and the common folk turned to their prayers. Then—”
“What sign did you give the public?” a god in the pantheon asked.
All-seeing Sån was aghast at this interruption, feeling it to be irrelevant
to her tale of horror. “What sign did you give the public?” the god asked again.
The sun replied to this unimportant question thus: “I gave them a sign. Now—”
“What sign did you give the public that a god had arrived on earth?”
the same god asked again. “It's a small detail, but it's still an important
detail that we need to know about!” Another deity replied incredulously,
“What do youmean it's an important detail? We don't even know your name!
Who are you to tell us that an insignificant detail is not so if you yourself
lack the information of your own name for us?”
The first god replied: “You yourself haven't been identified either and you
claim that my name isn't an important detail, like the sign Sån gave!
So since your claims are hypocritical, then any argument you make
is 100% invalid.” The second god complained that the whole thing
was totally irrelevant to the story the great sun was telling about Suscrofa.
The first god retorted that all the details, no matter who seemingly
pointless, were significant to understanding Sån's story.
This ceaseless, pointless argument went on and on and on for quite
a great long while until, at long last, the last modicum of her patience
running thin, almost to the point of nonexistence, did Sån command:
“WILL YOU TWO IDIOTS SHUT THE FUCK UP??!!”
And so, with the command of all-seeing Sån did silence fall and
arguments between any deity cease to be. Attention from all the
gods returned to Sån to tell her terrible tale:
“I had arrived at the domain of Suscrofa. It was a small temporary
home for travelers looking for a place to stay for the night.
I knocked on the door and Suscrofa answered, 'Oh, hello. It's starting
to get dark out. Why don't you come in and stay the night?'
She let me inside; everything seemed all right and nothing out of
the ordinary—the first transgression. Afterward, she offered me
a bed to sleep in for the night. I noticed the blanket has a tiny
unidentifiable type of crumb on it, possibly a piece of stone.
Before I could tell this to her, she noticed the crumb and said,
'Oh, wait a minute. Lemme clean this blanket off a little,' and
picked up the crumb and tossed it away, leaving a clean blanket.
She then divulged a plan to me of offering me some food and
drinks for my mortal body that journeyed a long way. Not content
with just that, she intended to give me breakfast and drinks like
orange juice and milk after I awoke the following morning.
When she turned her back to take care of my hospitality,
my moment had arrived. My sun rays of revenge burnt through
the sky; Suscrofa was surprised by the sudden change from
nighttime to daylight and went outside to see what was happening.
Outdoors, she looked up to the sky, but when she tried to speak,
a deep squeal replaced her words. Her depravity infected the rest
of her body; her bottom teeth turned to fangs and her top ones
into curved tusks as her face elongated unnaturally.
Her clothes and hairs were altered into a coarse, bristly fur;
her arms into legs; her feet and hands into bone-like hooves.
Suscrofa was now transformed into a boar; her evil thoughts
now well-matched for her swinish presentation.
As you can discern clearly, the disease of insanity is holding control
of every single member of the human race without exception!
You'd think that they all joined some sort of evil elite movement!
My sentence is thus: All humans are shit so they must be annihilated!”
And thus spoke Sån. Some empowered her rage further by cheering her
on loudly and obnoxiously; others expressed their praise by clapping
more quietly or nodding silently in agreement.
But nevertheless some comments came flying—and it matters not who
said it: “The eradication of all humans will most definitely be abhorred!
And have you all not forgotten the most recent eras, right from the
previous book as a matter of fact, had no intelligent mortals whatsoever?
Has it been forgotten that there were none to offer us sacrifices and prayers
to our altars? Is this world to be at the mercy of savage wild animals again?”
Such were their inquiries, and again it matters not which deities asked them;
it just mattered that such questions were being asked. Sån assuaged her
fellow gods. She, and she alone, would take care of life on earth;
not just wiping out the current life on earth, but also creating a new
race of beings with a godly birth, unlike the monsters before it.
THE FLOOD
The sun, daughter of fire, considered conspiring with her hot sister Jît
to cause a massive heat wave and drought to eliminate all of man, but
she rejected that plan because it might take too long, to the point of
being frustrating. Instead, she elected a different method of making
all mortals miserable: getting the weather gods to develop storm clouds
in the air and drown out all mankind in a great flood, because, of course.
All the winds of all the directions, all of whom blow the clouds around,
were set loose on the great eye's command.
Nortíst, the northeast wind, flew down to earth on his great, drenched wings—
all eight of them—his horrific countenance enveloped in somber misery;
all of his body hair was a messy collection of storms; his forehead, bridge
of the nose, and bellybutton housed thick white sea smoke; his wings and
his clothes were moistened and dripping wet.
The wind of the northeast was not alone on his trek to the earth,
as all this time—definitely—he was also riding on the back of
the horrendous Tõndurǔr, the storm beast, the son of Èr, who was
there with Nortíst all this time, totally true.
As the monster, who totally, 100% was flying with Nortíst all this time
and was not a last minute addition by the author just moments ago
after typing the description of Nortíst, flew over the earth, he developed
droplets of cold, miserable rainwater, with trillions of droplets entering
the clouds, darkening them, at a neck break pace.
While he flew through the air and flapped his evil wings,
annihilative gales tore apart homes and crumbled mountains;
torrents of rain poured down horizontally, overflowing crops
and voiding a whole year's worth of work, prayers, and labor.
Tõndurǔr, flying through the stormy skies, brought more chaos and
gloom over the earth and all who lived there by whipping his
glowing, forked, um...whip. It would appear as a strike of lightning
on earth and the accompanying thunder was the ground vibrating
from the strikes of Tõndurǔr's mighty whip.
The outrage and wrath of Sån was limited not to only the sky,
her incredible domain; the ocean goddess Òchen aided the
all-seeing sun; she summoned the river nymphs who reside in their
rivers, and when they arrived at flowing Òchen's underwater palace,
which was also inside Òchen herself, she spoke to them:
“A lengthy declamation is unnecessary,” she said. “I need you to
look deep inside yourselves—all of you—for your greatest
strength and might. A mortal woman, Suscrofa, has maltreated
the great eye in the sky, Sån, the sun, who is my cousin—
produced without intercourse upon the birth of her father
and my uncle Faír upon hatching out of the golden egg—
and now all of humanity must be destroyed for the better
of the universe. I need the aid of every single one of you.
It's highly imperative! Destroy your barriers, break down
the floodgates, lose all control of the horses in your rivers,
drown the bastards in your gushing waters until they drown!”
She had spoken. The nymphs of the creeks and rivers returned
to their deep holes from whence they came, then they flowed to
to the bays that lead to the sea in unrestrained pilgrimage.
Òchen, meanwhile, threw herself onto the surface of the earth,
gushing the mother with furious torrents as she trembled from
the pressure and damage.
Breaking free from their restrictive holes, the rivers swallowed the
hills, the valleys, and beyond; the roses along with the corn;
the horses with the cattle; the River Line with the Newark Light Rail.
Homes and public places, those that were able to withstand such
a strong assault and remained strong and erect, were now
sunken by a mammoth, overpowering waves that eradicated
their steeples deep below the surface.
The once-apparent distinction between land, coast, and sea was
blurring with considerable haste. The ocean was overbearing all
the world, altering it into a beach with no seaboard.
In the enormous field where there were once sheep grazing the
grass, the sharks were now feasting on the drowned livestock.
The nymphs of the rivers and creeks looked on at amazement
at temples, towns, buildings, and cities for the first time in
all their immortal lives. The forest was purged of chipmunks and
squirrels originally residing there and now was the home of the oafish,
barking seals; lions, tigers, and bears were struggling to stay above
the violent surface of crashing ocean waves.
STÎF AND LAÎF
The village of Plen lies in the desert, in the land sandwiched
between the river known as the Tigris and its sister, the Euphrates,
at least it was so when both rivers didn't rise up to help flood out
all humanity. Following the flood, it was engulfed by the sea,
turning into yet another flat area of wavy ocean.
At Plen, you can visit a mountain called Pocono, towering skyward,
once the remains of lizards from a book ago, to the clouds and the
stars glowing above, the broken down severed limbs of previous gods.
There's also an acclaimed Hotel Palomar in the town; a music store
featuring the most recent, praised music albums around; and Plen
is also the corporate headquarters Gardner Urban Construction,
founded by Kleiner Mamiya, specializing in vegetation uprooting
for inner city construction, demolition equipment, tax services,
pharmaceutical distribution, chocolate confectioneries, fast food,
covert military operations, and a hell of a lot more! Gardner
Urban Construction™—whatever your heart wishes for, it's
certain that we'll be able to provide it!
As I have finished recalling the perks of the old village of
Plen, as told to me by some of the beautifully-voiced-and-
bodied Tots, the remaining Tots interjected and told me that
nobody has any interest in the public perks of Plen and
that I should just get on with the original story. Since I
have been told so by the grand Tots, I shall continue the story.
At Plen, you can visit a mountain called Pocono, towering skyward,
once the remains of lizards from a book ago, to the clouds and the
stars glowing above, the broken down severed limbs of previous gods.
This was the sole feature that was left standing after being consumed
by the ocean. Here, two people, a man and a woman, were sailing to
the peak poking out of the ocean for refuge.
The man, Stîf, after rowing the small dinghy to the remains of
Pocono, helped the accompanying woman, Laîf, out of the boat.
Upon arrival, the pair sent prayers to the mighty ones above,
to the nymphs of all the mountains, the raging water spirits for
guiding the two to safety, and the goddess without whom nothing
would be or occur: the bright, omniscient daughter of Faír, Sån.
One would not be able to find a most pious duo on the land of the
earth—not even in the present day furthermost East—more
god-fearing and retrogressive than Stîf and Laîf, who assisted in
the torture and mutilation of Plen's homosexuals, and prayed to the
gods above nightly for the complete destruction of the West and
the like-minded people who reside there, for oppressing those
on the East simply by existing and thinking differently from them.
The pervading eye up above saw that the earth was now
a wavy ball of stormy water; just one man appeared to be
all that remained of so many million men and just one woman
appeared to be all that remained of so many million women,
both of them devout worshipers of the divine ones, free of sin.
Using her natural-born heat, she dissipated the clouds and rain;
with the aid of the southwestern wind, she cleared the mists and
fog, exposing the parts of the earth to the sky and exposing the
parts of the sky to the earth.
The heat of Òchen, too, died down. Slowly but surely, she calmed
the tumultuous waters and, with intent to blow, retrieved her conch
horn to signal the nymphs of the creeks and rivers to return to their holes.
Òchen lifted her tanned trumpet, which curves to a spiral from the
mouthpiece to widen out to the ending hole and has various flat spikes
growing up from all sides, whose notes, when she has blown through it
in the midst of the ocean, was just a mere, single asphyxiated note,
a shrill, tinny ringing sound.
As strangled and tinny as the sound was, it signaled the commanded retreat,
heard by all of the water on the world, and all of the water of the world
by which the noise was received were as stifled as the noise itself.
The rivers returned to their channels while the oceans regained their
shores. The flooding impeded; the hills and mountains arose once again;
the pine trees emerged from the sea, soaking wet, dripping; the corporate
headquarters of Gardner Urban Construction returned to the village of Plen.
The world was back to normal; the sun shone brightly in the sky,
observing the reformed, evaporating land, along with the two humans
that appeared to remain in the world; upon catching the glowing sun
in the heavens, the pair abased themselves in Sån, calling the both
of them weak and insignificant ants unworthy of the crusty toe jam
that resides between the toes of the bright sun herself.
After giving the two a sign that a god, or rather goddess
in this case, was going to cause divine communication, Sån thanked
the pair for their lifelong devotion to the immortal ones, then
stated: “You two, Stîf and Laîf, have been devout in your unyielding
fidelity towards us above all your lives and now you have been
given a great honor for your world and your race.”
“If I may be so bold, dear goddess,” Stîf replied timidly as to
have his concerns not be interpreted by the mighty sun, ruler of all the
Jolían gods, the giver of all life, as a blasphemous assault
against her divine authority, “but I feel that we mere specks of
dirt lack any kind of special power to rescue this ravaged land,
filled with no one for whom to care, nor with anything worth saving.”
“I mean not to question your holy power, almighty Sån,” added Laîf,
also showing respect to the powerful goddess and not wishing to be
seen as trying to defy or usurp the dominance of the great sun,
“but I also am unable to conceive how we can improve this dreadful
land, with all those about whom we cared seem to have been killed.”
“Fear not, my loyal subjects,” all-seeing Sån reassured the pair,
“for it is through my divine plans that you two shall save the world
and the human race.” With their confidences receiving holy stimulus,
the newly optimistic pair awaited to hear, right there, what Sån's ideas were.
“Now I want it understood,” the sun commanded, “that regardless of what
possible objections you may possibly have to my ideas, you will follow
my word no matter what. Life on earth depends upon your obedience!”
The two humans agreed gleefully to follow the divine word: “Whatever
it is you require to help save the world and bring your godly assistance
to fix these terrible lands and bring peace and hope, we shall do it!”
Sån, the glowing eye in the sky, lady of all the gods of Mount Jóli,
brightly stared at the two humans, beaming rays of pride at the faithful
dyad. “So be it,” she declared, “To help populate the whole earth with
a more gentler species devoted to us gods above, here is what you must do:
The two of you must engage in lewd intercourse so that dear Laîf
will be impregnated by the seeds of Stîf so that Laîf will create life.
This you must do—for the sake of all humanity!”
The pair were agog at Sån's request. They weren't rather keen on
fulfilling her demands, but did not wish to object to her divine
commands and seen as disobeying her authority. After a moment's
hesitation, the pair mustered up some courage to talk civilly to Sån.
“Dearest Sån, mother of all life,” they replied timidly, “we mean not
to disregard your holy authority, but it's just that we have a simple
problem with your command that might, unfortunately, hinder your
plans: The issue is that the two of us, Stîf and Laîf, are relatives
bound by blood, brother and sister, born from the same mother,
and therefore cannot fornicate with one another, even for humanity.”
Sån glared at the siblings for a little bit in disappointment.
“Well,” she finally said, “I'm very sorry that you feel that way.
You could have resurrected the whole of the human race into
your manner of thinking, as religious and loyal to us Jólians,
no more societal aberrations, the lowlifes being put in their place,
basic public order—now all that seems to be a fleeting fantasy
because you two would have the gall to disobey orders from
a goddess, specifically the sun, because you were too selfish to
consider the needs of all of your fellow humans!
Seeing as you don't want to help save the human race, then
you two siblings shall be left here all alone; the last two
humans remaining on all of earth, both of you living out
your lives with just each other; no one else to sing songs
to you; nobody else to prepare your meals for you;
absolutely no one and nothing, for the rest of your lengthy lives.”
All-seeing Sån slowly started to sally forth back to Mount Jóli;
the siblings were frightened by her warning: the pair would be
the last remaining humans on all of earth with no one else around
for many decades until they get released from this eerie silence
by the doings of Dët and rejoined with the drowned humans
deep beneath the earth within the realm of Onsîn.
“Dear goddess, wait!” the two finally exclaimed. “If this plan of yours
will truly help out the world and prove to be beneficial to
the human race...then, we shall do as requested by your will.”
Sån returned to the duo, pleased with their loyalty. “Why, that is
excellent to hear!” she replied. “Now, so that your faith will not
waver during this time, I will be keeping a watchful eye on you
two just so that you actually obey my commands.”
The two siblings followed the sun's commands to the letter,
knowing that they would breed a new human race, a more
religious race living in fear of the deathless ones, responsible
for everything. Thus, on the sun's holy orders, the both removed
their clothes, leaving nothing but their bare flesh.
Stiffly, the two nude siblings embraced one another, fondling one another's
genitalia slowly. The kisses the two gave started off as sibling,
familial kisses on the forehead before evolving into full-on lip-locking.
Stîf sucked on Laîf's breasts as he and his sister did decades ago from
their mother when they were infants.
Laîf was becoming more and more sodden as Stîf became more solid,
penetrating her below, both now fornicating hungrily and happily.
The siblings had never felt this pleased and this close before in their lives.
The coitus continued for a great while, never wanting it to end.
Laîf embraced her brother tightly than she ever had before, the both
of them sweating copiously, doing it out in the open for the sun to see.
Finally, at long last, the two managed to reach the climax of their
coition simultaneously, yelling loudly as they did so.
Stîf was still inside Laîf when it happened. The passion died off
and the pair remembered their familial relationship and the real
reason why they engaged in intercourse in the first place.
Sån, already watching them, came closer to the siblings, finding
them nude and tired. “Dear goddess,” they cried out to her, “we
have done as you asked.” “Excellent!” replied the great eye.
“I have this feeling that I spurted inside my dear sister,”
stated Stîf. “It's very likely that she will be impregnated with
my child and cause the human race to continue.” Laîf agreed.
“I feel that it will be so as well,” said shining Sån.
As the two kept on asking the goddess for her prayers for
the well-being of their possible seed, a mysterious group
was headed towards the goddess and the nude humans.
The leader of the small group came up to them, then asked,
“Uh, are we interrupting something here?”
It was a small group of humans who had been left homeless
since the great flood. Another group of humans arrived.
And another. And another. And more and more and more.
The nude siblings Stîf and Laîf, wearing nothing but their
flesh on their bones were taken aback at the humans.
They were all supposed to have been killed off. They had
orders to repopulate the human race and now they all live?
“Dear goddess, the bright sun, responsible for all life, light,
and warmth,” the siblings asked, “we mean absolutely no
disrespect nor do we wish to challenge or question your
divine authority, but you claimed that all the humans had
been eradicated and we were the sole ones remaining.
That's why we just fornicated with one another; you commanded
us to continue the human race. So, if we may be so brash,
how come there are now more humans?”
“Oh, right,” replied Sån. She paused for a moment before continuing:
“You see, while I and the massive, wavy Òchen were causing the
great flood to overcome the surface of the earth, it seems that
humanity has still persisted, in spite of the best effort of us immortals,
and the flood didn't seem to kill anyone at all.”
The siblings were still aghast at this situation. The gods are all-powerful
and cared a great deal about their people. Surely, any challenge or
difficulty would just be a test for man, trying to overcome obstacles
and improve their personalities and lives.
“I think we understand it now,” the duo said. “This has been merely a
test of fidelity towards the gods of Jóli, to see that our allegiance shall
never waiver and that the gods, in turn, shall always look after us. Correct?”
From the heavens, lustrous Sån angled closer towards the pious pair,
who were hoping their vulgar actions, as commanded by her, the sun,
would have some beneficial effect for the two of them. After a brief
moment of silence, the agleam sun inhaled for a modicum of a minute,
and opened her mouth to speak these words:
“Nah! I just wanted to fuck around with you!”
With that, the queen of the Jólian gods belted out a lengthy series of
heavy laughs, cackling at the measly siblings' collective expense.
The other groups of humans joined in on the jovial laughter, falling
to the group, clenching their bellies, tears coming from their eyes,
also at the expense of the nude siblings Stîf and Laîf.
THE DEIFICATION OF NADIE
One of the groups of humans was returning to their village
after guffawing and laughing at the misery of Stîf and Laîf
at the expense of the siblings. The group divulged the tale to
the other locals in the village, near the residents' square homes,
humble adobe abodes constructed out of bricks formed from
the moist mud of the earth and dried from the heat of the sun.
Inside these houses are plastered surfaces featuring painted designs
of members of the family, of various of the Jólian gods, each
featured for the appropriate prayers and needs of the residents,
whether it be for good crops or the health of their family, and special
floor designs, including plaid, hexagonal patterns, and rustic style.
In one of these stone houses, there resided a man by the name
of Nadie, a cantankerous, old, elderly man who held an extreme
dislike towards everything modern simply for not being the past
but instead the present, and the adults controlling all, those filthy
peasants who dare want a better life and economic prosperity.
The thoughts and feelings of Nadie would ultimately align with
those to all men, all women, and all beings that reside in the East.
Nadie was in his home reminiscing about the days of order, when all
made logical sense, back when there was still slavery of minorities,
angry about young people existing. Then, as quickly as the tide rises
when Mun gets close to Òchen and how rapidly the sea sets when
the moon retreats further away from the ocean, the life of Nadie
came to an abrupt end.
The terrifying son of black Dãrc, son of broad Ürt who carries
all of man on her belly and bosoms, arrived on the scene to
take Nadie's spirit away from his body and into Onsîn, the
realm of Onsîn the blood-born.
None in the village noticed what had happened to Nadie until
ten days after the event, when the denizens noticed that he was
suddenly stopping complaining about how women should stay
dressed in less revealing clothing than lengthy rags that cover
every single inch of their bodies, leaving no corner uncovered.
They had discovered the lifeless corpse of Nadie. Now they all
had the issue of what to do with it. Several hours of deliberation
among themselves produced no ideas or solutions.
Suddenly, one of the members produced a thought on what to do
with the body. The rest of the group, unable to produce any other
concepts or answers, decided to go ahead with it.
The idea was this: carve a sharp blade out of a stone, use it to
tear the skin, muscle, and tissue off the corpse to remove the
skeleton, take out the internal organs, and, using the plaster
made originally for the construction of the village's homes'
rooms, reconstruct the whole body, using seashells for the
eyes, and painting the areas where the hair earlier was.
This the group did. The plaster solidified. It looked almost
like Nadie, eerily so. The plastered body couldn't walk, or eat,
or converse, or spit at the young people whose most heinous
crime is just struggling to get by and be successful.
Again, the group had to make an important decision regard the
body of Nadie. They ultimately figured that as the realm of
Onsîn, home of the lord of the dead Onsîn, is located in the
land beneath the overground, it would make perfect sense that
the plaster-covered skeleton should be buried deep beneath the earth.
It would serve as a connection between the world of the living and
the world of the deceased, so the passed person could possibly
have effects on the lives on the surface of the earth.
After several decades, these practices soon became adopted throughout
the whole village, then to the village of Plen, and soon all life on earth.
THE ASCENSION OF RULERS
Many more decades had passed until the burial method of the
common people had fallen to the ears of the kings of the valleys,
the chieftains of the settlements, the rulers of the villages.
Among these people was the wise king Borus of the land of Kack.
Borus, son of Boron, was the kind and cordial ruler of Kack,
always helping his people, taking the course of what's best for them,
putting the needs of the public above his own needs and desires.
His throne room, like many a leader before and concurrent with him,
was decorated with idealized tales from his life that had actually happened,
captured on the glazed mud bricks of his palace coated in the most vivid
pigments from crushed stones from mother Ürt herself, with the floors making
contact with gypsum reliefs gilded and colored with materials the likes of solid
gold, lapis lazuli, and emerald.
The brilliantly colored scenes covering the walls depicted idealized events and
fantasies that had actually happened to the good king, Borus, including
the son of Boron forcing the invading forces of Tóneïl IV of Khornhólas
out of Kack and back into his vile homeland with the aid of his and his men's
swords and bows—which would strangle the necks of the king and soldiers
upon the arrows being loosed—and him making offers, prostrating himself
towards the mighty Jolían gods for plentiful crops, excellent condition in
battle against foes, and overall well life for the subjects of king Borus.
The burial method from the other village all those years ago had
reached his notice, along with the ears of his royal assistants.
Although he was presently the king of Kack, having inherited the role
from his late father Boron, who had gained the throne following the
death of his father Augustus, who acquired it from his father Aís,
the idea of funerary processions had never occurred to Borus before.
The good king wondered how he and future rulers would be mourned
and remembered after they had passed on. As he pondered these ideas,
one of his loyal advisers had discreetly taken an iron hammer from a
place unknown and, while the king Borus was considering future
funerary processes, struck him viciously on the head, causing him to
tumble down on the many stone steps of his throne room to his finish.
After the adviser had looked towards his compatriots, he awkwardly
stammered out, “I guess we can find out now.” For the funerary process
of King Borus, his loyal men did this: carve a sharp blade out of a stone,
use it to tear the skin, muscle, and tissue off the corpse to remove the
skeleton, take out the internal organs, and, using plaster, made originally
reconstruct the whole body, using seashells for the eyes, and painting
the areas where the hair earlier was.
His body was buried underground, as was Nadie long ago, to be a
bridge between the world of the living and Onsîn, the realm of the
dead as ruled over by Onsîn, which would hopefully have positive
effects on the land of Kack.
Thus, was Borus, along with his descendants, memorialized in that manner,
for decades to come, until a new ruler, Sòp, son of Dòttur, decreed that this
method of mortuary preservation and preparation for the afterlife would no
longer be practiced for him or future monarchs in the land of Kack
because that method was best suited for the filthy, poor plebs.
His throne room, like many a leader before and concurrent with him,
was decorated with idealized tales from his life that had actually happened,
captured on the glazed mud bricks of his palace coated in the most vivid
pigments from crushed stones from mother Ürt herself, with the floors making
contact with gypsum reliefs gilded and colored with materials the likes of solid
gold, lapis lazuli, and emerald.
The brilliantly colored scenes covering the walls depicted idealized events and
fantasies that had actually happened to the mighty leader, Sòp, including
the son of Dòttur forcing the invading forces of Tóneïl IV of Khornhólas
out of Kack and back into his vile homeland with the aid of his and his men's
swords and bows—which would strangle the necks of the king and soldiers
upon the arrows being loosed—and him making offers, prostrating himself
towards the mighty Jolían gods for plentiful crops, excellent condition in
battle against foes, and overall well life for the subjects of king Sòp.
He consulted his closest advisers about more sophisticated mortuary
ceremonies. One adviser suggested that the corpse be preserved in an
alternate manner, rather than being coated in plaster for housing lesser
villagers. Another one stated that the body should be purged of all hydration
and buried in an ornate coffin. Sòp, after hearing these ideas, was quite
pleased that he, the son of Dòttur, thought of these concepts.
The son of Dòttur, ruler of Kack, when his time arrived, had
no intentions of leaving his throne room behind, nor his belongings,
and wished to take them with him to the afterlife. His servants
initially objected to this, seeing how, upon death, he would be
able to bring his physical items—including his weighty wooden
staff coated with gold and crowned with lapis, his fancy bed
bearing his fine-linen blankets, and his Taylor Swift CDs—
into Onsîn, the realm of the dead.
The king cared not how his servants would let his spirit bring
his personal and favorite belongings from the world of the living
to the world of the dead, just that they do make it happen, so that
they would be ready for the son of Dòttur to use when he ultimately
departs from the world of the living to the world of the dead.
His disgruntled advisers eventually decided on creating a tomb
that resembled the throne room of the king, placing all his
favorite items in the room. Further thinking led to the idea of having
everything considered earthly enjoyments, including dining utensils,
clothing, furniture, and more, being part of the tomb to ensure that
no earthly expense would be spared.
As the years flew by, the king of Kack, Sòp, son of Dòttur,
passed away, moving from the living realm on earth to the
realm of Onsîn, ruled by Onsîn, god of the underworld.
The organs inside were removed and preserved in jars.
The king's body was placed in an ornate, golden coffin
encrusted with sapphire, rubies, emeralds, and turquoise,
capped with an idealized, fantastical death mask so truthful.
This coffin was placed inside a copy of the coffin, only carved
in oak and lacking in any decorative designs; this coffin was
placed inside a copy of the coffin, only carved in oak and lacking
in any decorative designs; this coffin was placed inside a copy of
the coffin, only carved in oak and lacking in any decorative designs;
this coffin was placed inside a copy of the coffin, only carved in oak
and lacking in any decorative designs; this coffin was placed inside a
copy of the coffin, only carved in tree bark and lacking any designs.
The coffins were placed in a tomb made to look like the king's
throne room in life, loaded to the brim with his beloved treasures
and belongings, with larger items strewn around the room, almost
resembling pillars while the smaller items were stored in mighty
cases of wood showcasing absolutely true scenes of Sòp that
were totally made up by his servants and advisers.
The tomb was built inside a pyramidal, mortuary fortress, as grand as
the holiest of temples, aiming from the surface towards the sky,
towards the gods of Mount Jolí, the blessed immortal ones whose
ingrown toenails we measly mortals are worthy not of clipping out
of their bodies, coated in limestone so to catch the rays of shining Sån.
Thus, decades later, were all royalty and rulers across not just the
land of Kack, but all around the world were buried this way upon
their passing. And you can try it at home, too!
MUMMIFICATION TUTORIAL
If you, dear reader, have enough wealth and influence, and either are a ruler in the ancient world who is about to die, or know a such a leader who is already recently dead, you can try out the process of mummification at home.
Duration: 70 days
To accomplish this, you'll need:
Deeply pious priests who have extremely high-level knowledge of both human anatomy and the proper prayers and spells for warding off evil spirits and preserving immortality of the deceased.
A collection of empty clay jars for saving internal organs to be deposited in the burial chamber with the corpse of the royalty.
Many lengthy strips of linen, enough to cover the whole body.
An ornate, decorative casket for the body to be placed within a series of caskets for protection.
Access to a dry desert environment.
An immense amount of power and wealth.
Access to an ancient royal family.
Have a member of the royal family die. This is the most important part of the mummification process so that it may start.
Remove most of the internal organs. Cut an incision in the left flank of the body to extract these organs from the corpse: the digestive system, the lungs, the heart, the kidneys, and all internal sexual/reproduction organs.
Important! The only internal organ you keep in the body is the brain. The brain is the center of all intelligence and personality.
Place the removed organs into individual clay jars. Place each discarded organ into one jar: one for the heart, one for the lungs, one for the small intestines, etc. The jars with the organs are to be placed in the tomb with the deceased.
Dry the body out for exactly 40 days. Place the corpse in a dry desert environment with no cooling or coldness, preferably in the desert approximately 80 minutes east of Reno. Leave the body to dry for exactly 40 days.
Fill the interior of the corpse with resin-soaked linens. Bring the body of the deceased royal member back to the palace and have one of the priests fill it up with linens totally soaked in resin, inserting it through the incision in the flank from which the organs were removed.
Close the cut with an amulet. This will close the incision from earlier and the amulet will ward off evil spirits from the deceased royal.
Coat the body with lotions and resins. Then, wrap the body in several yards of linen. The coated body will cause the linen to stick to it.
Important! Be sure the body has extra amulets to protect it against evil spirits. It is also highly recommended that priests also add spells and enchantments to the front of the linen strips so that the spirit of the deceased, should it be visiting the realm of the living, can easily find the tomb the body is located in.
Cover the head of the mummified corpse with a gilded death mask. The death mask must be an idealized version of the leader's face as it appeared in life.
Place wrapped body with mask into ornate coffin. This first coffin must also be gilded and feature decorations depicting one, or some, or all of the Jolían gods, particularly the blessings and good things they've helped the deceased do.
Place the coffin into another coffin, and that coffin into another coffin, etc. The amount of coffins to nest the innermost coffin can vary, but the final amount must be discussed with the deceased royal family member before death.
Important! The innermost coffin doesn't necessarily have to pay tribute to the Jolían gods. While tributes to the gods and idealized depictions of the royal member's life and accomplishments as they actually appeared are 100% necessary, the order doesn't matter at all. Just be sure that they're featured in the correct order!
Organize the personal belongings of the deceased in the tomb as if it was the throne room for the still-living monarch. Be sure to include all earthly needs in the tomb, including food, utensils, clothing, favorite CDs, etc.
Important! Place as much of the deceased's smaller personal things as possible into decorative chests showcasing idealized events from the life of the leader that actually happened. Put any larger items that can't fit around the tomb neatly and undamaged.
Place statues of the deceased monarch around the tomb. This will guarantee the permanence of the deceased's identity forever.
Have loyal guards defend the deceased's pyramid tomb to defend it from robbers. Royal guards are recommended for this step, as mercenaries might not be entirely loyal and trustworthy. Use hired mercenaries only as a last resort!
And now, you're complete and ready to mummify your deceased ancient ruler!
THE CROW AND MARIPOSA
As funerary practices were evolving the world over, the crow, coated in
glossy, pitch black plumage, was going about his business doing...crow stuff
...that crows usually do, when suddenly, he laid his chestnut eyes upon
a significant animal. This creature was much smaller than he, bearing two
pairs, on either side of her body, of multicolored wings, now in its most
evolved form, gliding through the air.
The insect is regarded by society as holy, having a connection between
the human realm and the realm of the Jolían gods, starting off as
a minute worm-like creature that could only move by crawling slowly
along the barky surface of a tree branch, then engulfing itself in a
silk covering and emerging as a creature of the air, landing only on flowers
in order to ingest the nectar and pollen that the plants birth.
The crow sat on the branch of a laurel tree close to the butterfly.
“Hello there, holy creature,” he spoke to the insect. “By what
name do your own kind call you?” “I am known as Mariposa,”
the insect answered. The two animals became instant friends.
For a few minutes, they got to know more about one another's lives.
The glorious black crow mentioned how he was responsible for saving
all the animals from the incredible wrath of frosty Snö, daughter of
Reîn and Còd. This tale impressed Mariposa greatly.
The two enjoyed their few minutes together. When suddenly, out of nowhere,
a Boeing 747 flew by and, while sparing the crow, mowed Mariposa into
tiny, minute little shredded pieces of butterfly, gently falling to earth.
The crow was horrified at this sudden change in events. The beautiful,
godly, mighty butterfly that he had known for barely a few minutes
had departed the world of the living. Sullenly, the crow flew back
to the branch where he had first met Mariposa.
Waiting until the middle of the night, halfway after the wheel-hoofed
horses pull all-encompassing Ürt towards the dark domain of sane Mun
yet intermediate of the time when the rosy-fingered dawn would make her
presence obvious in her father the sky, the crow painted the branch where
he had first encountered Mariposa black, as dark and glossy as he.
That way, he knew that the day that the butterfly died came to an end.
On the branch, he had removed photographs of him and Mariposa from the
extremely short time they had known one another from the branch, covering
them in discarded newspaper sheets, and placing them in a nearby drawer.
Although it wasn't very long, it felt like a lifetime since evil Slìp, brother of
evil Dët, son of rayless Naít, came to relieve the crow of his gloom, even briefly.
The crow remained haunted by the small memory of Mariposa; he couldn't
do anything he liked or anything he needed to even survive. At long last,
the despondent and amort crow lost all hope and was drained of all happiness,
before finally wilting away, dissolving into minutes pieces of ash, freely
blowing and flowing through the cold, windy air, doomed to be forgotten.
This was the fib that the crow planned to tell the next passerby he encountered.
THE CROW AND MIMIDAE
The crow flew to another tree to discover a mockingbird named Mimidae,
who, like the rest of his ilk, would mimic other noises and sounds it would hear.
The crow told his fib about his non-existent time with Mariposa, as told in
the previous chapter. Mockingbirds are known to be honest creatures, so
perhaps Mimidae would tell him truthfully how effective his lie would be:
As funerary practices were evolving the world over, the crow, coated in
glossy, pitch black plumage, was going about his business doing...crow stuff
...that crows usually do, when suddenly, he laid, etc. etc., etc., so on, and so on.
After hearing the crow's falsehoods, Mimidae, just like his fellow mockingbirds,
replied by mimicking noises and thoughts. In this case, he copied the sounds
and thoughts of something else: those belonging to you, the reader.
“The story you told me is an obvious lie,” Mimidae answered. “The most
blatant fault is that you and Mariposa formed a strong bond despite only
knowing one another for a few measly minutes. How did the aircraft
that kill Mariposa not harm you physically at all? And how did a
Boeing 747 even kill the butterfly even exist when this whole series
takes place in the ancient past, long before the first flight at Kitty Hawk?
You also could no way in hell have photographs to wrap up in newspaper
after a few minutes of getting to know each other. How would even get
newspaper anyway, given that they don't exist yet? It also defies the logic
of this whole series that you just dissolved into nothing after mourning
the butterfly you barely knew for a very short time. Isn't there like a god
that also rules the world of the dead that takes people there when they die?
Overall, I think your story will fool nobody because of all the obvious flaws
in it, especially with youtelling it even though it ended with you dying.
It's very stupid and doesn't make any sense at all.”
The crow was offended by this, explaining, “I took a great long while
to think of all the details. I worked very hard on this, believe it or not!
How could you say that, after all my hard work, my story is impossible
to be taken seriously by passersby?!”
“Well, I am a mockingbird,” replied Mimidae, “and we are known to
be very intelligent.” “Oh, is that so?” answered the crow. With that,
the black-feathered bird got a hold of the mockingbird's neck and
turned it in almost a circular motion, killing him instantly. The crow
then bashed the damaged head now resting on the deceased mockingbird
against the tree branch until it separated from the feather-coated corpse.
Holding the decapitated head of Mimidae in both his wings, the crow
spoke thus to it: “Perhaps, with the aid of your intelligence, my fibs
and stories will now be taken seriously by passersby! I will swallow
your head and, as it digests inside me, your great cleverness will
flow through me, increasing my own. That will teach you to be a
smart aleck and ruin my stories with your logic and reasoning!”
With that, the crow opened his black beak as wide as he could
and threw Mimidae's head all the way back into the back of
his throat, as far as it could go. The crow quickly discovered that
this was a very terrible idea. While he threw the severed head
very far down his throat, the head of Mimidae only ended up
clogging it, restricting the black bird's breathing ability.
The crow could now only produce restricted gagging sounds,
horrible hacking noises, struggling in vain to get the severed
mockingbird head out of his throat. As air failed to run through
his lungs, the crow plummeted from the laurel branch towards the
grass-coated surface below, and finally departed the living world
for the world of the deceased, the body now resting at the forest floor.