Sanu Nepes Journal
I first communicated with the god I created on that very night. Juja asked me without much thought as I went out of the squalid mess we called a house, more sleeping than awake, “Where are you going, father, did we not finish our project.” I gritted my teeth in rage and commented, “Inane fool, I will look into the depths of its mind. The deepest recesses of its mind still answer to me, and me alone.”
All moronic lies spread by that squalid Culiqaque, that I now repeated, but useful lies that I could make great use of. “Oh, alright,” Juja said in a sleepy sort of manner. I hated how comfortable he seemed in that miserable cot. “Stay safe, ‘kay?” I grumbled at that horrible underestimation of my own strength. I reached the forest soon enough and made my mouth touch the squalid earth. Soon enough I was linked with my terrible deity, that god I made alive. In a way my son, although in a far different way than my acolytes were. I was filled with the utmost pride that I feel no trace of Huse Napasa. Vanquished was she.
I didn’t talk with my deity, but I dug myself into his mind. It gave way soon enough, the unconscious parts of it remembering well enough who made it. I dug my way to see the images most wary, some raising. I had forgotten how glorious it truly was to see through the innumerable eyes of a god, though it be watered down. “Excellent,” I whispered to myself, “It’s more ambitious than I expected, but that won’t last long. Not long at all.” Soon, I’ll be a mighty deity, I’ll be unbound by death.
Culiqaque was just a god like any other, I was sure of that, but his lies were something I could exploit. And I had something amazing brewing in here.
…
Chronicles of Kujumanacali
The great god sat after his glorious proclamation, the host it possessed being the living corpse of an old man with sagging wrinkled brown sin and with feeble strength. Still, it captured an air of ancient nobility. For some time, everyone was scared of approaching the terrible spirit with immense power, too much to even come close to it. Whatever it was, who could be certain. But that beaked beast, so similar and different to the wild beasts, were marks of a skilled deity.
Eventually, though, a child of ten or eleven years of little note approached it. The great god beckoned him gently, “Come closer, child, do you have anything to say?” After the kid approached the great god patted him in the head in a gentle sort of manner. The child asked him, “Are you really one of the Qese Rilu?” He tilted his head and kindly said, “Indeed.” The child appeared to believe that wholeheartedly merely with the confident tone it had been spoken in, his young mind requiring no other evidence. “This is the first time I’ve seen one of the Qese Rilu!” Kujumancali chuckled, “But it won’t be last, boy. I have come to open the door for others to come.”
The child then asked, in an apparently unrelated manner, with nothing but curiosity, “Will you eat more of us?” Kujumancali gave that some thought, “Yes. Human flesh is a special boy, precious. The great god Culiqaque requires it to recover his strength and defeat Kabam.” The child gave it some thought and soon commented, “I don’t think I want to be eaten. It looked painful. And gross.” The great god chuckled, “You’re still young. You’ll realize how wonderful of a death it really is once you’re older. You’ll serve Culiqaque in a higher way than those who aren’t eaten.” He chuckled and said to the child, “Now go, to whichever family you have, I am sure they are worrying over you.” He obliged quickly enough and left with haste.
Everything was quiet for some time after that, as nobody else dared to come close. The great god, while not in need of entertainment, marvelled at some ants which scurried in the ground. “Beautiful little creatures,” He commented quietly to himself, “So diligent. So organized. Like humanity, in a way.” An arrogant young man arrived soon enough and said to him, “Inane fools! Have all of you forgotten quite so soon? Kabam is approaching-this creature is but a sacrificial thief!”
He wrinkled his nose in disgust, “Why, it is nothing more than a miserable old man. I bet he isn’t even a spirit!” Someone yelled at him, “Have you lost your wits!? That’s a demon alright, did you not see the great mockery of a pterosaur it possessed!?.” The man grew flustered and responded, in between bloody coughs, “At any rate! My point is that we shouldn’t just trust it! Let it wander like some vagabond-Something needs to be done!” The great god Kujumancali came closer to the young man and patted his shoulders. The young man abruptly came to realize just how heavy the pungent smell of dried blood truly was on Kujumancali. The god said, in a pleased manner, “Excellent man! That’s the way to think; All of the Qese Riolu need to be gods not just in strength but in the innermost spirit. They must not be taken on their mere word.”
He tilted his head, “Sadly, we all will have to wait for me to prove my worth. Those truly equipped in theology are still preparing.” He opened his palm and an insect flew to it, a fat cockroach. “Here, I can smell an infection on you. Eat this and you will be cured. Might as well start with the physical aspects while the lot makes those of the mind.” The young man wrinkled his nose again, “Inane fool, you think I will ingest that!? Why you, useless man!” The great god sighed, “It really is a bad infection you got. Now, don’t be stubborn. I only want to help and dutifully prove myself..”
The rage was so great the young man began to cough, uncontrollably for some moments. Once calmed, the young man clenched his teeth, “Don’t treat me as a stubborn child who doesn’t want to do his chores!” The great god Kujumancali made a sound illegible to the ears of the human and soon enough the cockroach flew into the mouth of the human, crawling down into it and bursting apart as it kept going. The man attempted to choke it out with force, “Don’t worry. It is my spirit inside it, it is my flesh like this. You’ll know health soon enough.”
The young man soon looked at the great god with anger but couldn’t bring himself to have that overwhelming fear, “Why-you! I bet you’re not one of the Qese Rilu-If this kills me I swear-” Kujumancali smiled and said to him, “That won’t be true. But if I was at least you’d get the satisfaction of tearing my body to pieces! At any rate-get healthy young man.” He backed off with great fear and with mutterings of demons and insanity.
…
The great god remained there for some time, the joyous battle-songs of the cicadas and the galloping winds keeping him company. The old woman, Qereje, approached, and questioned him, “You have a lot of nerve, coming in and simply taking a sacrifice for yourself.”
Kujumanacali chuckled and said to her like a teacher approaching a child, “It is not mine, it belongs to the great god Culiqaque. I have simply claimed it for him.” She walked around him and eyed him warily, displeased by being talked to in such a manner, seeing as in her household everyone all but worshipped her. “You are certainly a powerful deity, Huse Napasa was far from the pinnacle of strength but she was still one of the Gigo the Conquerors followers. ” Seeing no reaction she added, “And she’s gone now. Just like that.” He only nodded at her. She asked him to break up the silence after a small moment, “Which towns do you plan on freeing from the control of the Infidels.”
He stopped for a moment and said in a thoughtful sort of manner, “As many as I can, and too will I convert as many as I succeed in doing.” She laughed at him, a jeering and wild sort of laugh, “Well, soon enough we will see the true extent of your honor, Kujumancali.” He chuckled and then said to her in a friendly and casual tone, “At any rate, your heart seems rather unhealthy.” With some unheard clicks flies approached, “Devour this regularly, and I can give you life. Not too much, but some years perhaps” She took some moments to realize just what he was saying but snarled, with a mighty sort of fury, “As though I will take something from a mere pretender!? I am an honored woman, not some testing beast!”
He tilted his head, and in a sort of rhetorical question asked, “But then how will the truth of my divinity be established in all of your heads? Your honor makes you fit for this” She snorted, gripping her terrible stick, “Don’t try and play games with me. If I hadn’t seen that extravagant display of yours I would be striking you with a stick! I’ve never been ashamed to do so.” He smiled at her, as though she had kindly offered him sweets of amaranth and honey, “Do so! No true son of Culiqaque shies away from pain.. Take them, and I promise your pain will be away. I only wish to help and fulfill my duties, showcase my ability and benevolence..”
She snarled and said with wild strength, “That won’t prove you are one of the Qese Rilu.” He admitted with haste, “Not by itself, but I wish to help. Now, will you cooperate?” She only snarled at him. He shook his head and said, “I had hoped with your closeness to death you’d be more cooperative, but you would do well to remember suffering is precious. Death should come only when the lord desires it. Life ought to be long for those fated for it..” She was prepared to walk away when the flies jaggedly flew into her mouth. She attempted to cough them out but failed miserably. They broke apart, their insides injecting into her veins, all sorts of proteins, cells, and compounds worming their way into her bloodstream with bitter and biting pain. It went away as soon as it came.
Rage overwhelmed her and she struck the great god Kujumanali once before retreating, as though he was some terrible wild beast. “You better haven’t poisoned me, you-you useless creature!” He wasn’t bothered by that, entirely unbothered by any pain. As one of the Qese Rilu should.
So did it for the rest of the day, a few came to question the divinity of the great god Kujumancali, and none dared question him on matters of theology. He didn’t get the chance to truly preach His fles wormed itself into that of all the members of the town, all of the warrior tribe. The great god Kujumancalis' legitimacy still hung in the balance. As it stood, all feared the terrible god in their own ways.
…
Sanu Nepes Journal
I suppose I should also proclaim the events which took place shortly after my god mde his proclamations, glorious that they were as anything which my creation would be. After he walked away a man around my age, one I barely ever saw commented to me, “What do you think of it, is it a demon or one of the Qese rilu?” I shrugged and said to the man, “Who can tell? Seem fearsome though.” He nodded, “How can it take such an inconspicuous human form, and yet instill so much fear.”
I took a moment to bathe in the fear and hope of all around me, the ones who with uncharacteristic intelligence recognized the gloriousness of my god. His power and terror. I didn’t respond to the man, but he seemed so busy wallowing in his own thoughts that I let him be. I went close to my acolytes and was about to pull them aside so as to talk to them about how high and mighty I was and how successful my plan had been. As I delighted in doing.
Of course, as usual that arrogant and inane, utterly wretched, Qasipeqi got to them before me and serenaded us with his meaningless thoughts produced by his tiny, insignificant, mind of barbaric origin. He hugged both Relino and Pipo at the same time and in a tone of utmost relief simply said, “You’re alive!” Neither of them appeared entirely sure as to what to respond. Relino hugged him back and patted him in a sort of quiet embrace, Juja going the same.
They separated after a moment. Pipo asked him with what I suppose is genuine emotion, “Just what happened here in the days we were gone?” He shook his head, and appeared lost in frightening thoughts, how weak was his mind! “Not a lot happened before today but today…today.” He gazed at one of the trees planted around the town. While it appeared Huse Napasa wasn’t capable of worming her way around this peoples burial-trees everything else was coated in the dark liquid. “I-It all erupted in battle-the forest itself! That demon's voice-It it was begging. Begging. Too much happened. Too much. Too quick.” He looked down at the ground with absolute fear.
He grabbed his own arm and began to squeeze it with what had turned into fury, as if attempting to blot out the earlier fear, “It was so easy being brave, back when I was with the whole group, riding with a spear.” He looked up to the high heavens, “But when I was alone-I only felt fear.” Relino ended up saying to him, in a calm sort of manner, “It is alright. Humanity wasn’t made to act alone at any rate. And you are alive-that is what matters.” Attempting to raise spirits, and ignoring his own role in the event, Pipo said to him, “Well, at least that old demon is going to bother us no longer.” Qasipeqi jumped to conclusions and said to the both of them, overcome by a kind of peace, “At least my cousin's killer is dead.”
I laughed for a little while after that. The three of them fell silent, and Qasipeqi, in a kind of barely contained rage, asked, “What is so funny, sir?” I commented without paying much attention to the emotions or the conversations, “Well, it's likely not dead entirely. Gods are sneaky things. It’s no better than a couple of humans now, but it ain’t dead.” I picked at a terrible wart on my face. He turned away soothing his anger before I mockingly laughed and said, “You inane fool, and you claim to be of noble lineage! Some nobility you got there! Just like my useless sons, guess rot begets rot, eh?” After a moment I added, too proud of myself to think of anything, “But I suppose all would seem lesser compared to my glory, eh?” I snorted like a pig. He said to me in tremendous rage, “I don’t think you have any place to comment on others about brainlessness or nobility. You couldn’t even keep your sons fed before you came here-they were living skeletons, don’t think we’ve forgotten.” Pipo and Relino tried to get him to stop, but didn’t dare come close. He ignored-didn’t even notice- them, too full of himself. “You never did work to do so. You may as well be dead!” He sneered at me, “I will not take mocking, or let others take it, from some useless and lazy leech of all things.” Just like his uncle, when he labeled me the lazy one in front of all. What I killed his son for.
Silence hung over us for a few moments. Pipo and Relino fearfully skittered even further back, yet didn’t entirely leave the scene-that was certain. Both I and Qasipeqi struggled to make out the words that had been said, and process them. After a few moments, he bowed. Turned his eyes away from me, even the fool, and said, “I apologize-as my elder I shouldn't have been so disrespect-” I brought my hands around his neck and attempted to choke him, to wring it, who can say, my body moved of its own accord. No, it didn’t. But I didn’t analyze my thoughts greatly either. He desperately tried to rid himself of it, once he washed away the denial, and with a desperate kick straight to my soft belly, the breath left me entirely. Such prodigious strength, I was caught by surprise, I could almost feel my organs and bones fighting each other for space. He succeeded, and I removed my arms from his being. I skittled back like some crab. “Watch your tongue, stupid boy,” I refused to acknowledge the fifteen year old as a man, though in age he may be, “It’ll be the death of you one day. That I guarantee.”
I quietly contemplate in the corner. Thankfully, nobody appeared to realize or pay attention to what was happening to us, for I think it would have been rather bad to anger Qisigu. If I killed the young man I’d be liable to get lynched, or hunted down, and after so many times it already happened. To have that occur due to something as simply as an angered murder would be ridiculous. Even a thousand barbarians' lives wouldn’t be worth mine-that I had decided years ago.
Relino and Pipo rushed close to him immediately, and hushed out many words to him. “Are you okay?” Was the first thing both asked. Pipo helped him get back up as he had been laying in the dark earth, contemplating all the events which had transfolded. “You really inspired a great rage within him.,” Relino fearfully said, and I was delighted in seeing how his face portrayed genuine terror-terror and respect-obedience- go hand in hand after all. Best to keep it alive. The gods can attest. Qasipeqi fearfully touched his own neck and in a quiet and muted sort of way asked, “Did he just-did he try to kill me. Over an insult?” Neither of them gave him a straight answer. Pipo told him, “We come from different lands-don’t hold it against him. Please.” Relino fearfully whispered, but loud enough that my inhuman ears could still make it out, “Our father can be dangerous when he wants to be. Don’t anger him. I beg you. I beg you.” I suppose he didn’t want to kill his friend-once we had a larger amount of success I’d have him do so. I can’t take such disrespect lying down. I’d have reservations about killing Pipo-good puppet that he is, but killing that arrogant young man? I can do that, awful easily, no loss to my plans once the base has been built.
Qasipeqi nodded in a slow sort of manner. As if to shift the tone, he asked, even though his heart wasn’t in it, “A-at any rate. How was your pilgrimage?” He finally noticed some signs of the few hits the sacrifice had managed to get in and asked, stealing only one glance at me, “Did something happen?” Both of them casually said to him, cheerfully, ignoring his worry, “Oh, no, it was wonderful. Very wonderful. That Imperial city is wonderful-you should see it. We avoided the really chaotic towns gripped by plague and famine.”
I am sure the memories of our prior journeys, men of any wealth beaten even after death for fears that they stored away hidden food, of those accused of consorting with demons and foreign gods cut apart even as the spirits true followers led the very mobs. “It’s best to remain away from those. At all costs, they aren’t very pleasant or sane places.” Qasipeqi looked over to the town, to the people who had most left the now mangled altar. The great mockery of a pterosaur finally flew away, something unnatural and perfect, beautiful and horrible. In a voice by now calmer, as though he were talking about a dream rather than reality, he said, “I really did think this town would become that, everyone was so wild, so rowdy. So scared.” He looked toward the church which rose above the other buildings, none too much but noticeably enough, “We all depend on uncle Qisigu, without him, we didn’t know what would come to pass. They thought he was dead. I thought he was dead.”
Relino nodded mourfully, “It comes like that. Sometimes it’s all at once. Sometimes it's like a boiling pot. You’ve heard all the tales, you know how it is.” Pipo said in a hushed sort of way, “It’s heresy, but humans and animals aren’t so different once it comes down to it. I hope you never see.” Qasipeqi looked at them mournfully, and avoided my gaze. He slowly nodded and after a moment commented to them, “ I remember how thin you were when you came to this place. I haven’t forgotten.” He looked at the earth, at the wriggling fat worms and other insects which lurk in those places, “Thank Culiqaque that Huse Napasa was too cowardly to ever do that to us. Too deluded.” He looked up to the mighty sky, at the terrible Kabam, “ Uncle Qisigu wished that it would go and test all of us, but a large part of me is glad that it never came to be. ”
Relino soon added, “We are glad for that, too, Qasi. It’s alright” Qasipeqi nodded and responded, “Thank you.” He looked up at the good emperor, that hateful Kabam that they called it. Relino commented, “These people never became incapable of reason of some kind. That’s something to be thankful for.” Qasipqeqi, not taking his eyes off the sun, commented in a quiet sort of way, “I think I would rather die than lose reason. Lose humanity, become a beast..” That stuck a great whirlwind of fiery anger within me.
“No, no, that is not so,” I said to myself, though I imagine they overheard me, particularly with how that Qasipeqi moved back-good, so good, “It is logical to survive. Survive through every pain, through good and bad. For what good is a dead human, it is not their lot.,” I reasoned with galloping thoughts, “Dying, that is what a lot of the beasts are.” I didn’t care to look at what any of the three of them thought about my words.
…
They went to see this fat old man a little bit afterwards. Qasipeqis face grew all lit up as though by a bolt of mighty lighting. He had explained to them, “I promised Sajiku-the sacrifice to the earth, we knew her a little, that I’d see her grandfather and his needs.” He whispered. “Last I saw him he wasn’t doing very well.” With understanding, both Relino and Pipo had gone along with him.
The old man was lying by a tree and talking to himself, with his hands scratching its bark every once in a while. They had begun to bleed a tiny bit, like a dark counterpart of morning dew. I followed the three like a formless shadow. Qasipeqi had been the one to speak, “Hello, sir! Do you need help standing up?” He didn’t respond, only whispering to himself. Qasipeqi said, “Hello?” At which point the man had dismissively waved his hand and said between mumbles, “Go away, will you, dream boy. This isn’t real-none of it is. Just leave me alone until I wake up. My granddaughter is waiting for me to do so.” He clenched his teeth, “The demon's whispers have been shaping my dreams-I can’t get them out of my head.”
A sense of recollection filled Qasipeqi, and his face grew pained, and he seemed to struggle as to what he should say. Relino used his silver tongue, and with one tone of extreme kindness said to him, “You wish to wake up, let us take you somewhere where you can do so faster.” The man responded, “Faster?” Relino nodded and said to him, “Faster, yes. To end this dream earlier, see the real people. Your family. You can trust me-trust us.” His tone was extremely compelling, most would have taken it for absolute truth. That was a strength of his-had been since he was given to me.
He didn’t appear to have intestines, but he didn’t give much struggle as they guided him to his home. I saw Qasipeqi sneak fearful glances at me as we walked, wishing to remain as far away as he could. Once they took him to his own home, small and miserable like ours, I heard how he finally sneaked some water to the man, even if he wasn’t capable of getting him to eat anything. “I’ll be back later.” That Qasipeqi eagerly promised.
I followed them during the last moments the three walked together. “It was necessary to get him to obey us, Qasi. You know that.” Qasipeqi had only nodded to Relinos words and attempted to smile at him. A tired sort of smile. “I’m just tired, my friend. I understand.”
Perhaps he was. I certainly felt so.
…
The Chronicles of Kujumanacali
The three men sat together in the Design home, the sad sapling of his son growing quietly to ever-grande heights, hungering for high and glorious heaven. Growing even as the boy himself could not. A chill sort of air had come through that night, like a hundred clammy hands of the dead. Qisigu was the one to begin the conversation, a goblin sleeping in the corner of the room as though he had always laid there, “What a day! I am curious, what thoughts flow within the two of you about that deity.” Juja was the one to begin, “It terrifies me.” Sugihu commented with a veneer of calmness, “When do you think we should test it? We can’t leave a prophet going around without doing nothing, damned will we be if we do nothing.”
Qisigu answered to him with cold calmness in his voice, “Soon, in ten days at most. All of you need to study what we have left. Search into the deepest recesses of our memory.” The two of them nodded along with him. Sugihu commented, as though wishin to turn the conversation slightly less somber, “That was quite an entrance eh?” Juja nodded and whispered, “It made an impression on me. So much blood.”
Qisigu took out a great long pipe and with fingers nimble like a seamstress lit it. A small cloud left his mouth as he exhaled, a sad little mockery, vanished as quick as it was created. He passed it to Sugihu, who smoked it as well as his eyes lit up in recollection, “Ah, I missed this. Where was it lost?” He shook his head, “ This little storage room, I kept a lot of my son's things within there. I hadn’t built up the courage to look there.”
The three of them nodded. Sugihu then warily asked, “What about the test of pain? We don’t have the necessary colonies-” He couldn’t continue after that, all remembered was how the sacred nests had been torn apart and destroyed by the fearsome soldiers of Rejonu. More than that, it made the memory of his uncle, laying all alone on that wooden cross, bubble up. He didn’t need to remember that, it was a memory he would rather be forgotten and sunk in the recesses of his mind.
Yet Qisigu camly smoked once it was passed back to him, “That is simple, very quite simple.” The smoke kept billowing out like beautiful ghostly ribbons, “Do we not have a cross on our hands?” Sugihu almost sputtered at that, “Cousin, be reasonable!” Qisigu only nodded, entirely calm as though it was the sale of shoes they were discussing, “Am I not being reasonable? Culiqaque himself was crucified in the ancient chronicles. Multiple, countless times. We have one at hand-It is a good test of pain.”
Sugihu looked at Juja as if begging him for support, but the sheepish man went the way of his younger brother and simply said, “Well-it has our uncle's blood. Perhaps if we crucify him on it he’ll come down with the test. I-I think anyways.” He shook his head, and looked at them as though he were surrounded by madmen. Eventually, he gave in to the current as the strength left him and he quietly nodded, “I suppose we can’t exactly drag off some monstrous creatures from Rilu Jiguhi or the other demon's domains.” Their poisons and plagues, living receptacles of rot, were also utilized for tests of pain in the old legends. “Fine.” Such simple words, such a grand effect they wielded.
Qisigu nodded in a wise and pleasant sort of manner, “I am glad you listened to reason. Tell me once you’re ready for the test.. Keep your eyes on that deity, I hear it's been supposedly healing people.” Juja asked him, in a quivering sort of tone, like a piece of clear glass, “Do you think it is doing what it says?” Plague, rot and poison was the livelihood of the spawn of Kabam. They were masters of flesh and life, much more than they could ever dominate the dull iron or the steady stone.
A sense of expectancy was seen in Qisigus eyes, as he seemed burdened yet not surprised by the question. He simply shrugged as a response, “How can we know? The demons need some humans to do their unpleasant work, but it seems a powerful one, especially if it's working with Nolina. It’s likely willing to kill a town as small as ours if that's the case.” He chuckled and with a sort of strength, that which propelled the saints to achieving enlightenment and beholding the nature of the lord, proclaimed, “But what does it matter! If we live, if we die, useless! What matters is how.” Qisigu rapidly turned to Sugihu, and asked with a sort of hope, “Oh-I forgot to check, but have you seen the movements of the stars? Is the Lord telling us something?”
Sugihu appeared as though a great weight had been placed upon him. He commented, “I did, but it's all so ominous. Something large is fated for Qiniregulu, the rise and fall of great powers. But it is impossible to tell who and how. I am sorry.” Qisigu responded quickly as an arrow, “Don’t be. The lord reveals all things for a reason-If he desire that we do not know, then we ought to heed his request.” They three of them looked at the ghostly branches of the old grave-trees, those ever-untouched by Huse Napasa. The galloping winds played with them cheerfully.
“It’s getting late,” Juja nervously commented, “I-I think we should go.” Qisigu frowned but said to them, “Very well, be on your merry way.” The three of them exchanged hugs and dismissed one another cordially enough. After that, before going to sleep Qisigu sat outside his home simply staring at the bright moon, at the few trees of his ancestors that remained-those Huse Napasa had climbed in the form of a jaguar to destroy his son, and the young sapling of his sons, kept aloft only with great sticks dug into the earth.
“Please, great Lord,” he whispered in a quiet prayer, “Do what you see best. I am fine with any fate that befalls me.” But the sky remained quiet. Ever quiet, so, so quiet.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
…
The Chronicles of Kujumanacali
The great god rested on one of the grave-trees, calmly like any stray dog or tired worker. His aged exterior hid his terrible power and glory, son of Culiqaque that he was. The old woman Qereje had been angrily serenading and showering him with words for quite a while, “Fool! You may kill us, poison us, but we will never submit to your demonic goals! Your healing is nothing but a farce-a wolf in the clothes of a sheep!” And so he left, having run out of strength and out of breath. He stayed there for quite some time, resembling a timeless fixture of the landscape.
A group of women and men began to approach him, clad in clean robes, like those for key religious festivities or calls of counsel. They came to him like a great pack of beasts and a good amount of them knelt before him, their heads and knees reaching the ground. Their leader spoke up, an arrogant looking man who only nodded rather than bowing. He had fat hanging off his bones, a mark and emblem of prosperity. “Forgive all of our foolish companions!” The man he had healed the other day, the one with the bloody and powerful coughs, the young man added, “They see your benevolence and yet they refuse to listen to reason!”
Kujumancali chuckled and said to them all, “Perhaps, Sohono Lolupupa, Sijihu Gapimu I can’t find it within myself to be upset . My testing hasn’t been completed.” The same fat elderly man, Gapimu, appearing impatient, proceeded to voice his own thoughts, “Regardless, I could be of use helping with keeping those coy. I know much in this town-my family is one dating to its founding.” His smile turned large, “I know all of their dirty secrets, I could provide them to you. Only for assurance of your aid for my whole house once I die.”
Kujuamanacli looked at him, and chuckled. As someone entertaining a child, he only said to him, “That's an awful kind of you, but I think you ought to worry more about your own secrets than those of others. Don’t think I do not know of the many children you have with other women.” He shook his head and said to him, “I’m afraid I simply can’t give you redemption for such a grave sin. That you have to earn, rather than looking into others' pasts.”
Everyone in the group gasped and began to mutter to themselves. Kujumancali stood up and with a movement of his hand said, “Quiet.” In that moment he portrayed such an authority, such fearsomeness none dared to act against him. The elder moved back, Qapimu saying to him, “Don’t go ‘round spreading lies! Scattering their horrid seeds!” He faked laughter and looked at the others, “Can any of you believe this arrogant fool!?”
Kujumacanli didn’t care much, “What you say doesn’t matter, their blood doesn’t lie. My flies have drunk that, and I have gazed at their innermost genes.” The old man sputtered as the others looked at him with their fearsome gaze. “You-you can’t believe this can you!?” Sohono among them said to him, “He healed us. He controls many bodies. He is a god-he killed that demon. Of course we do.”
Kujua Mahali smiled pleasantly at them, “At any rate, all of you desire to serve our lord, yes?” Most of them nodded, with varying enthusiasm. “That Is great, great. Ah, all your holy texts were destroyed. But no matter, they are all here in my head.” And so he began to spin to them the grand images of the ancient glories and follies of humanity and of the grand god Culiqaque.
…
Sanu Nepes journal
I launched around wonderfully, the sense of victory even making me forget the harsh circumstance I found myself in. Pipo commented to me in a darting sort of way, “You seem happier, father. Do you have such hopes in our creation?” I snarled at him, in a way which placed him back in a more submissive sort of way, “My creation-for it is mine, and mine alone-Will succeed no matter what is put to it. Regardless, I read all their holy books once, back when I was young and foolish, and imparted all the knowledge into the deity.“ I giggled with absolute glee, “I suppose I know more about their own religion than they do!”
Relino was the one to comment this time, like a brick upon the other, “We heard it’ll be tested soon from Qasipeqi. His father worries over it quite a bit, as does he.” Stupid man, that Qasipeqi. I dreamed of tearing him apart. Pipo nervously uttered, short yet a cutting of fiery starter, “Do you think it’ll pass, that it won't lose and be torn apart. Leave us with-make it all-nothing. Nothing at all?” I scratched myself without much care, but with anger wrapped around my words, “Most definitely, quit those thoughts of yours! Is your opinion of my work that low?” I soon calmed myself, and commented, “Say, is the food ready? I’m starving.” I hated that sordid gruel, but if there is one thing it did well it was filling one up.
“Almost,” Relino said to me with silver-tongued kindness, “At any rate, father, I hear you told us you expertly played around with the gods mind?” A tricky one, wishing to distract me from my rage by making me talk. He succeeded. I yawned and calmly said to him, “That’s correct. I delve into its memories of my own volition, and move them around. I’ve been able to use its abilities, so as to see around where I want.” I chuckled and giggled with glee, “It doesn’t even notice! It's so, so inane!” I scratched my hair- I suppose it's infested with those little pests.
Pipo was the one to ask this time, “I heard the families of those he healed from plague have begun to worship him.” I snorted at him, “Gullible fools. Any spirit of quality can do such a thing. It means nothing.” Reliono asked, with a sort of genuine curiosity, “And what does your project think of them?” I smiled widely, the motions tearing through my features as a monster of the depths breaks winter-ice in the far south. “He is rather pleased, mostly, but wishes that the whole ceremony be carried out,” I commented, “It seems to be functioning just fine for now.”
“It's done!” Exclaimed Relino, “The meal is done.” I ate, and I was joyful, in spite of all things. I had a god twirled under my control now after all, and a mighty one at that. I could never thank Qejonu enough for doing the one thing of use it ever did-Die.
..
The Chronicles of Kujumancali
It was on the eighth morning after its arrival that Qisigu, Sugihu, and Juja prepared to test the great god. With some elders and their grandchildren coming forth. Qasipeqi accompanied his father, though he was rather ungifted in such endevours. In spite of their words, only a few followers came in the chilly morning that he was convoked forth, to wait for him outside the temple. “It’ll all be fine,” he said to them with confidence, “I will prove to all of you my might. It won’t take an awfully long amount of time by our gods standards.” And so they sat, and did the one thing they could, pray.
“Come in, ” so said Qisigu. And with a mechanical sort of perfection, he stood up, dusted the grime off of himself, and shook hands with Qisigu. “Ah, good to see you. Is the testing beginning?” With three nods coming simultaneously from the group of them as he trails them like a shadow or a scent.
They enter into the sturdy church, the roaring sacred fire burning in the corner fireplace, eternal tower of smoke. The blessed weapons decorated the walls, and a crude clay image of the great god Culiqaque defeating Kabam in the beginning of time to create the world, just before he rose up to become the sun. The grander images and artists had perished in the purges of Qejonu, their ends a spectacle far less grand than the last priest's crucifixion.
Qisigu calmly said to him, in a cordial sort of way, “I trust you know you ought to recite vast knowledge of astrology, theology, and alchemy. Begin with say, the first fifth of the first great book of revelation.” And so he did, without much difficulty. It took a fair ramount of time, and there was something surreal about it. The battered old man relaying to the being far younger than him that stood as though he was a master. The weaving tale of the creation of the world, its first iteration. It was a story they all know, but the poetic and descriptive way the flaying and dismemberment of Kabam, the stirring of the seas, and the creation of the first animals and plants was described gave it all a sort of life.
Sugihu nodded at this, a sense of awe evident in the way the whole text moved him. Later he would admit it reminded him much of his departed uncle, that one which met such a dastardly fate. He did manage to, with great strength, continue, “Well, now, explain to us the major forms of alchemy, from that life that propels flesh to the relationships between the dead metals and stones.” And once more he did. It was only basic-the very utmost basics of the art, but it was described in a matter equal parts concise and powerful.
It all hinged on the idea that there existed miniature, perfect little creatures. These were like strings in a tapestry, ones which existed even when Kabam reigned the sea. All were fitted together in the perfect matter of life. Yet deeper still, there existed categories of compounds that reacted in different ways, bodies and spiritual souls if that term ought to be used, that united gave mass to all things. This could be used for all purposes, from the bodies of wood, in charcoal, mixed with dull iron, the earthly body of the ore. To how miniature machines and beings of rot and plague wormed their way into and devoured the living, these were the living tapestries of plague woven by the evil demons. To how they could be manipulated for the creation of chimeras by both the Qese Rilu and the spawn of Kabam. He interlaced the secret knowledge with that which was common sense, in such an expert manner it left no doubt as to the intimacy with the material.
All present worked together as Qisigu arrogantly proclaimed to him, “How quaint! You’ve proclaimed good knowledge asto the theory and facts of things-but now it's time to put them in rpactice, eh? It’s one thing to know something and another to understand it.” Kujumanali replied to him, as though his very fate were not on the line, “Pleasantly! I suppose we are performing astrological calculations now?” Sugihu nodded at him.
And so, all present, well educated in mathematics began to calculate with paper and ink, with their minds, to stitch together predictions for the future based on the knowledge given to them by heaven. It wasn’t so much a matter of speed in calculation, for any spirit would excel in that, but in the knowledge of which equations to use and which stars held different meanings. Yet even when all of them worked together, with their utmost strengths, they couldn’t equal the proficnecy that he had.
Qisigu appeared impressed with him, “Good, good, very good. But let us see how you handle yourself in the combat of reasoning and discourse.” By now many, many hours had passed, and the sun had long since left its highest point of its journey. Yet none in the room dared express exhaustion. Only the most important of such questions are relayed here. He asked the great god with an impassive expression on his face, “Explain the reasoning behind the castration of priests.” Kujumancali chuckled and in an arrogant manner said, “Such a simple question? That is easy; the carnal pleasures are a necessary evil which ties the eternal spirit to the physical plane. If they are to have communion with God, they must not possess such organs. That was put to place in the early days of the Mexihuacans heresies.”
Juja continued the question, with something of a desire for victory in a manner overcoming his fear, “Then why, pray tell, did the great Lord create them in the first place? Why could early holy men procreacate?” Kujumancali responded to him, the very epitome of calmness and collection “The rules of matter dictated it be so; it is evil yet necessary, and can even be helpful when carefully and tightly constrained. Culiqaque didn’t always possess the power he does, not since kabam.” Kujuamancali remained impassive and kingly as always, and there was no sign that there was even a fiber of fearful nature constrained within him.
Sugihu then asked him, with a small amount of genuine curiosity interlacing his less than ideal understanding. He thought that his mistakes could easily be made by the foreign, and malevolent demons, “Now, explain why Culiqaque depends on suffering for his strength when he is all good, and perfection given form. And if that is all, then why does he requiere physical flesh and blood of humankind as worship.” Kujumancali chuckled at that, and explained, “That is because of the nature of suffering itself. It is a cleansing sort of pain. It prepares spirits and flesh for arrival to him by purifying them, as the blubber of a whale, a gigantic cephalopod or some other marine creature is purified when it is burned. Now-”
Sugihu appeared unsure of the answer, but Qisigu appeared to accept it and the deemeanor, choosing to interrupt him. Many thoughts flowed through his mind. Someone pretending to be the Qese Rilu would respond with fury, while one of those who understdood their nature well would easily respond to the following question as is necessary for all questions in a test of this kind. Especially when added to the rudeness of the interruption, a riling for arrogant demons “And now, tell me, Culiqaque is proclaimed as having made the world. Explain why he is so much weakened and resembles the spawn of Kabam. It goes against all logic.”
The old body Kujumancali was possessing calmly leaned back and grinned at all of them in a fatherly sort of way. Galloping thoughts passed through all of their heads . “It may be hard for humans to grasp, but that is because Culiqaque isn’t just a god in spirit, but a god in flesh. As described by his tremendous feats of control in the first chapters. He is both all the same, yet affected in different ways by the way Kabam has limited herself in an effort to make him nothing.”
Qisigu was pleased by the answer, but he knew by the faces of many in the crowd this wasn’t something he’d been taught to understand. Even in those glorious times. He considered that if it wasn’t a true god, its judgement would be affected by the reactions of supposed wise men. And so he began to weave a bluff, one Juja, Sugihu, and even Qasipeqi understood. He grasped his sword, and in a tone of utmost false victory proclaimed, “I am afraid you are mistaken, all flesh touched by his spawn is divine, you are looking foolishly to drag yourself out of your own hole. It really is a pity, truly, but it may be time to tear you to pieces. Culiqaque can’t change his very being, he wouldn’t lose a body!” Kujumancali took this in stride and simply laughed, not a shred of fear evident in his face.
“Your acting isn’t good enought to fool me, but I will explain the truth for all of those”-he gestured to the crowd of elders- “Who appear not to understand. I deem this a critical time, and them in need of fully, entirely, understanding the nature of the world. It is a mere error in translation,” he shook his head like a tree shocked by his head, “This language is so limited, the common tongue of the Empire. It was made by demons I suppose-what else can be expected?” Most of the time, diferent people were requiered to have varying levels of knowledge, but it was very common for such rules to shift depending on the many factors of the region. The three couldn’t help but think that if it was a false deity, it was either prodigiously good, or they were obsecenly horrible as this whole ordeal.
He smiled cheerily at a lot of them, a kindly desire to teach evident, “Why do you think Culiqaque requires not just the spirit but the bone, flesh and blood,-why do you think he instituted burial and cannibalism and put an end to cremation? He has a body-he never lost it. ” Qisigu continued for him, a kind of genuine victor bubbling up within him, hope, “Like one who sees himself as he dreams. A spirit that moves while remaining attached to a weaknened body.” Kujumancali nodded, and responded to him, “That is precisely so. Humankind was made in his image after all.” The questions continued, but deep within his heart Qisigu had been convinced by the demeanor, equal parts calm and full of authority, benevolent with hints of arrogance, that Kuumancali was no fake, not if he himself had any shred of authority.
That he determined himself that he would believe, now till the end of his life.
…
Sugihu and Juja looked to one another as those two continued talking as though they were lifelong friends. Or perhaps a teacher with a bright and eager student. The test lacked the force and cunning it had at its first hour, that it seemed to them from Qisigus part, even as he overwhelmed them out of the examination. Left where they, like mere logs. Galloping and diverse thoughts lurked within both of their minds, leaving them entirely unsure as to the future acts they ought to do. “They seem to have warmed up to one another,” Sugihu whispered to Juja with a sort of disbelief in his tone, “Awful soon I might add. Do you think he passed? His thoughts matter most, after all.”
Juja said to him, “It’s been awfully long with both portions. He treaded skillfully.” Qasipeqi commented, “Far better than us.” Nods came from the elders within the temple. Some humans could have surpassed Kujumancalis current host, those with the manipulated minds for mathematics, but none within that town could have. Sharp in mind, Sugihu commented to his cousin, “But how about you? Do you think he is what he says?.” Juja sighed looking at the earth, “Many things are possible-the details of theology have long since been washed from our heads. I just-I-I can’t shake off the feeling that these things are too fantastical to be true.” Sugihu appeared to have caught on to the internal mechanisms of his cousin's mind and he added, “I understand, that sort of surreal feeling. Dreamlike” Qasipeqi commented with his own opinion, “The last months have seemed like a dream, I would say. Not just last week.” And who could argue against him?
The art of Lucid dreaming was of decent importance, though nowhere near as spontaneous visions and the movements of the astrological stars. Juja nodded at that, and appeared tired beyond his years, like a piece of string moved to prodigious lengths, “Indeed, that is how I feel.” He used his own hand to ruffle his hair, “So, so much has happened in so little. I feel like a very young man again, just out of boyhood. Qejonus soldiers trampling through our last, hidden holy artifacts, our uncle hanging on that horrible cross. I am a lowly man, but before that I wasn’t even that.” Qasipeqi had only the very vaguest of memories of his granduncle, but he remembered them fondly. He shuddered to recall such events, yet the events of the last months with Qejonus destructions, Huse napasas attacks, and now the coming of his apparent Messiah, this member of the Qese Rilu. It was too much.
Such musings were dutifully cut short by the fearsome voice of Qisigu, sudden as the thunderbolt, “The final phase of our tests will come through! You’ve proven your powers over healing, your exorcism of Huse Napasa, your control over the beasts of the field and their very flesh-” the god particularly seemed to delight in molding arthropods and insects in all forms-”There is no need to test that.”
“Unto the test of pain?” The god dutifully stood up with that same sort of dignity and calmness he always employed. Qisigu responded to him, with a rabid sort of eagerness within him “Indeed! Are you ready?” Kujumancali began to walk towards the temple's exit, the light of day having dulled down entirely since the testing began. The only light now was the sacred fire in the temple itself. “To one of the Qese Rilu, pain is something abundant.” As he walked out, Qisigu took the answer dutifully and told his brethren, “If You can, please ready the sacred fire. Let our father, his flame, and the great saints tree all bear witness to this. Bring out the bloodied cross.”
…
Sanu Nepe’s Journal
A grand crowd has gathered within the center of the town. A reasonably numerous one had gathered to listen vaguely to the coming of the god into the temple to be tested as the day went on. But as time had worn on each of them they had gone to attend to their own duties, and entirely forgot the entire matter, too preoccupied by the aspects of daily life. The tending of sheep and whoolly creatures, their protections from wolves and the feathered bipeds alike. The rearing of children. The upkeep of the more mundane groves that supplied wood, fruit or grain. Only the most diligent had remained for most of the day. After night fell, the situation once more reversed itself.
Indeed, now that the news spread even without outright attempts by either Kujumanacali or Sugihu, the vast crowd gathered. I for my part didn’t particularly care for the result- I knew our god would stand victorious. “Then why,” Pipo had asked me, emboldened since he thought me in a good sort of mood, “Do you wish to come over to the ceremony.”
I smiled viciously and responded, without rage in my voice, in a quiet and skittered tone, “That is simple, I wish to delight in seeing the lot crushed, seeing them acknowledge the superiority of my project.” I calmed myself after that, just the slightest amount. In a more reasonable manner I explained to him, “I may not be able to get my own feet licked and kissed, the ground upon which I walk sweeped, just yet. But I can behold as that son of mine has it all done to me.”
He and Relino only nodded in response. The fearsome crowds had gathered slowly, many leaving offerings to the great tree and the roaring flame, standing on opposite sides of the wide and ample square. I let Relino offer one of the skulls he won in those games, “We don’t have much use for them at any rate,” I had explained, “If you want to offer them to that wretched deity-so long as you understand it's foolishness-it’ll help us fit in.” It’s not like I cared for a great deal of my native deities, only a few did I hold dear.
And that was that. I was in too good of a mood at the moment, I didn’t particularly need to use them to feel better as I so often did in my miserable state. They seemed pleased too, perhaps due to a misguided sense of pride in their own labor or due to their acknowledgement of my gloriousness.
No matter, we were all there when the great god Kujumancali came out, stripped in a ceremonial loincloth, very basic in all senses of the word and made his speech. There was something curious about that wrinkled old body, physically disgraced yet acting like a lofty noble warrior. “Never forget that suffering and labor is the fire which cleanses the souls of the living! Follow my example as your leader-you too offer your whole beings to the great god! Only the spawn of Kabam shy away from suffering-greatest flame!“ A clammer of his followers resounded from the crowd. There was something of a grand quality to his words, as is to be expected of a creation of mine.
Qisigu made his own announcement as volunteers including Qasipeqi, those of importance of pure and noble bloodlines who had listened to the entire examination, passed out a fearsomely wicked blade around. “If this spirit right here lets out our cries of emotion during his agonizing experience, do not hesitate to strike him down! For those who would imitate the glories of the excellent Lord deserve not even that their lifeless corpses be respected! Let them be cut and torn until they crumple like broken cheese!”
Relino and Pipo appeared troubled in the most subtle of manner by this, for which reason I kicked both of them. The blunt pain wormed its way through them, as I whispered, before a second kick, “Don’t you two dare fall down, spineless worms”. My emocions are fickle precisely due to their mightyness. This was enought to quiet them down. Others made such gestures of unpleasantness, but for them I suppose it was due to general squeamishness to this sort of thing. Cowards! A trait more fit for beasts than for human beings.
The process itself didn’t take much too long, nor was it to pleasant to watch as someone who had beheld others gruesome destructions of both the living and the lifeless corpses, from the lynchings of my homeland, to beating the very dismembered rotting limbs of those of former wealth in the hopes their toothless skulls would let out a secret of their food. The way he was prepared, he was tied up in the wooden planks and countless nails hammered into him, was unpleasant. I cursed at myself for such weakling thoughts, but there they remained, uncaring.
The blood oozed out from the limbs, and there he remained, in a silent state caught gasping for breath. Yet he handled the pain without difficulty, and had one seen his head alone they would have thought him merely someone exercising. Slowly, but surely, the crowd began to calm. They didn’t dare sleep, but it was turned into a sort of party. Drinks were passed out as vendors came selling Pulque and cheap corn beer. The renewed trade meant one even brought a kind of refined, purer alcohol to be mixed with cheap corn beer, which arrived prepared through wonderful alchemical methods. Some men hummed a lively and wonderful sort of tune that filled the air with winged notes.
Qasipeqi actually approached us soon enough, appearing both troubled but hopeful. The three hugged each other, as was their usual greeting. The young man was pleasant enought to bow to me,”Greetings, Sanu nepe,” as though the gleam of fear wasn’t evident in his eyes. He backed away from me like a foul fearsome chimeric being. All good-for it is time he learned to respect and honor me properly. They exchanged quick greetings. I care not enough to record here, all those , “How lively you look!” and useless, “How wonderful it is to see you!” I was more interested in devouring some small fried fish I bought, fried with lemon, salt, and chili pepper. As that occurred someone muttered next to me, “All these folks, eating at a time like this. What shame they should have.”
I care nothing for the barbarians' opinions on this, especially considering the crucifixion wasn’t even a real one. Nobody would die on this day, for the world spirit to sink its body to be part of the earth once more. The emperor. It was awfully boring to say the truth, compared to the spectacles prior to the execution-wonderful, lively games and speeches- performed in our homeland, but I suppose the pain and length were intentional. All those thoughts passed through me as Pipo and Relino began speaking with Qasipeqi, in a hushed sort of tone. Shifting away from useless topics, Relino asked him with genuine curiosity, “You listened to a lot of them talk, how was it?”
Qasipeqi took some time to think, but soon responded, as though not wishing to defame it, “Unique.” He elaborated after a moment, letting out a groan “Oh, who am I tryin to fool, it was far too long! For one interesting thing, there were twenty useless ones, I’d be lucky if I retained a tenth of what was said.“ Relino and Pipo in a tone between jest and seriousness responded to him, “You have our condolences, Qasi” Qasipqi sighed, every once in a while looking at me with waryness, “I suppose. Can you lot guess the curious thing, though? I barely even remember him, but I feel like this god bears resemblance to my uncle.” The lot of them analyzed that for some. Relino continued thinking but Pipo responded to him, “I suppose it makes sense, they were both members of the clergy, Qasi.” Qasipeqi nodded along with them and added, “Perhaps.” Like a man struggling to rinse the valuable gold from muddy water, he appeared to build up an explanation, “He reminds me of him through more than that-he has this air of wisdom to him, can you understand? Something great and mighty beneath a clear surface.”
By his face I could see that Relino struggled to imagine the crucified vessel as anything other than a man, many had we seen crucified like that in this land. I don’t think Qasipeqi was clever enough to notice. “Anyways,” Qasipeqi continued in a joyful sort of way, “I’m pretty sure he genuinely knows all the holy books! He spent some hours straight relating part one to us-I didn’t manage to record more than tiny fragments!” After a quick moment he added, “We also all spent a long time calculating astrological tables-none of us stood a chance against him.” He appeared awed, but I could only chuckle to myself. The math itself wasn’t complicated at all, the host's brain only required some tweaking. The deeper meanings were far harder to institutude.
I was absolutely pleased by such words, distant compliments to me. Pipo sent some glances my way, appearing possessed by a nearly invisible spirit of guilt. Relino had it too, and expertly hid it underneath a facade of kindness surprise, “Don’t feel bad about that Qasipeqi.” The barbarian nodded at that, somewhat comforted by such words. Pipo then commented, “Spending the entire day cooped up inside-that sounds rather unpleasant, you’re great for going through with it.” Pipo had meant to jest, but Qasipeqi appeared to whisper with a sort of guilt woven with him, “This is sinful, but while a part of me loved it the rest of me desperately wanted to get out of there.” Turning less serious he whined, “He spoke well but it was just so, so wretchedly long!”
Relino chuckled and told highly convincing lies, “We understand.” I don’t suppose he did, they had always been experts at the written word, but anything is capable for that silver-tongued fool. The conversation didn’t continue much longer as Qisigu blew the loud horn, the same oxen one which once more attracted the attention. “As is standard during this sort of test, the story of our Patron saint will be relayed here, the great Sini Naqihu!” There came people with instruments, only the most expert, to create a somber serenade. I cut down a mighty great part of it, but below are the basics that I reconstructed thereafter with my tremendous stenographial prowess.
…
Long ago the town's founding was led into the region by the mighty deity Huse Napasa, mightier than it was till recently albeit not exponentially so. It was a fertile enough stretch of land, and in a well-watered region. For a little over a century, the dreadful goddess ruled over them, making them labor for her, offer their bodies for her, build her temples, feed to her their animals, their plants, and most precious of all, their children.
Huse Napasa had dethroned that barbarian deity, Gigo Rrere, killed and devoured her own father. Such was the reason they had run to this stretch of land, led by Qaspeqi ancestors. Them of the warrior tribe, once the Rrerorians when they had a lord, when they were the only one he let bear his name. They swore allegiance to many of Gigo Rreres sons, changing hands and being the site of a few minor battles of warriors whose squalid and wretched graves had been long forgotten.
Then came the great saint, some sixty and one years ago, that Sini Naqihu. He had gone when he was younger in the southern lands where the Culiqaquists still suffer but are more abundant. He seeked out the great lord, saying he, “Wished to discover the secrets of the workings of the universe.” And that he did, joining a monastic order considering his impure bloodline banning him from priesthood, mastering alchemy, mathematics, anatomy and particularly astrology. All of it he learned, finally specializing in medicine. From the workings of flesh to the spirits of metals. In a minor war he helped as a doctor, finding survival where many did not. At the height of his carrer at that point, he, entirely by himself predicted an eclipse with sublime perfection.
Culiqaque called for him from the few lordships the Ojotillas had banished him too. There he asked the great saint, “Come, and tell me what you desire, young man.” He only responded, “I only wish that others know as much about your beautiful world as I do know. Understand it.” The god had smiled at him, and told him, “You have what it takes. I will ordain you and castrate you for service to me, Sini Naqihu, a glorious day you were named after. More glorious still shall you make it.”
The young man had been surprised and eagerly asked him, “In spite of my bloodline's impurity?” Before he could apologize Culiqaque chuckled at him and said, “Indeed. Your lineage is absolved of its sins through me and through you. I forgive your whole lot, even your cousins thrice removed. Now go-serve for the rest of your life, through death, and after it. Only then will you truly, entirely, find my glory. Bring me a thousand souls.”
And that he had done, bringing forth over a thousand souls to the great god Culiqaque’s grasp, taking with him a minor member of the Qse Rilu. He had not the power to tear apart even a tenth of Huse Napasa, but he won the hearts of the people, made them drive her out with sticks and stones, in all the hamlets and towns that once served her. All that fifty-four years ago. She swore to him, “I will have them back-they will cut down your grave tree and feed it to the termites.” We can all see how wrong she was.
He returned to this town before preparing to enter Rilu Jiguhi. He died bravely by the hand of one of Qejonus dreadful followers, eternal enemy of Culiqaque and son of the horrid Gigo Rrere. All this fifty years ago. He came with one of that god's beastly creations, dealt his life so that it would surrender itself to death. Grand Martyr! His body lay beneath the earth, his tree here, and his spirit in high heaven.
…
“That was an insightful story,” I commented to Pipo, Relino and Qasipeqi, “There’s a small flickering of doubt within him. Is this the first time he gives this speech?” Qasipeqi flinched upon hearing my voice and with nervousness responded, “You’d be correct. We’ve never truly had to test someone claiming to be a god.” He added soon enough to defend his uncle's honor, the wretched young man that Qasipeqi was, “But that doesn’t matter! He is well prepared for this! His judgement isn’t erroneous!”
I only shrugged and uncaringly said to him, “I’ve seen a lot of public speakers far less talented than he, that much is sure at least. Can’t say anything more to mark him appart..” A shred of fury appeared to bubble up within Qasipeqi, quickly suppressed by the memory of my attempt to put him to death. He was distracted by Relino who asked him to shift him away from my conversation, fearful that he was too, “Say, you told me there was one part of the text you found rather funny, but I can’t remember which part.” Qasipeqi turned to him with glee, joyful for distraction, and began, “Ah, yes, you see-”‘
Their conversations were shifted to such senseless and useless matters and I lost track of it. People indeed lost the renewed interest in the crucifixion quickly enough. My god heaved in pain and handled it as though it was routine, but such a thing fell on blind eyes. Everybody calmed down. The moon continued its path across the sky, and every once in a while a musical group came up to play a beautiful tune. Some fell asleep while others struggled yet remained waking. That god suffered for an uncaring audience, yet didn’t cry out or argue.
When dawn cracked and the roosters sang, when Qisigus great horn rang, everyone's attention was once more called. The center crawled so heavy with people it seemed as though it would burst into pieces. They all stared at Qsigu and my god as if they were the radiant sun himself to use the expression of my homeland. Qisigu proclaimed with utmost joy and seriousness, “I, Qisigu of the most ancient lineage, we who renounced Gigo Rrere, Huse Napasa, and welcomed Culiqaque, proclaim that this here spirit is none other than one of the Qese rilu!” Juja and Sugihu said, “We corroborate that such a thing is true.” Those who had sat during the test similarly proclaimed, Qasipeqi among them, “We affirm that such a thing is true.”
As all that went on Relino whispered to me, voice breaking in someting between joy and shock, “I didn’t really think all this would truly work. Not truly.” He said it in a shaky sort of tone. He is cunning, he only dared say such words because he taught me in a pleasant sort of mood. He was correct. I took it in stride and smugly proclaimed,”Of course, my creation is glorious. Only the highest gods would recognize it as anything other than what it proclaims itself to be. And they will never face it-we have nothing to worry about!”
I lay there, and basked in my own gloriousness the hoots of victory resounding with joy. They were unanimous, drowning now. The great god had nails lifted from his flesh, many wounds remaining on his body. Those with some knowledge of medicine, following my god's own intricate knowledge of human anatomy, helped dress the wounds. It was all done in a prodigious amount of time, my god always resembling neither man nor beast but rather a shimmering statue.
With great and glorious strength he struggled to stand up. One woman asked him with great care in her voice, of those who had nursed his wounds, “My god, do you require a staff to stand on?” He shook his head in a pleasant sort of manner and finally filted himself up, the ilusion of the statue-like being regained, “There is no need for that.” Once that happened, a few of those most loyal to him knelt with their knees facing the cobblestones. Slowly but surely, most did the same. I muttered under my breath, “Some luck I have!” I did the same at any rate, though it may be horrible and humiliating. Though I may swear one day I will make all these folks pay for such a disgrace.
I could make out what went on well enough by sound. The fluttering of his robes as he bowed down to them and cheerily proclaimed to all of them, “Glorious people! You have not lost your glory! We will advance and liberate as many from the Infidels' jaws!” With their knees facing the ground, Qisigu, Sugihu’s and Jujas knees could be heard on the hard stone as they went over to him. That pitter patter as they moved towards him while knelt. How those in the crowd moved without going anywhere just to increase their own pain.
I couldn’t see it, wretched be they all! But I could hear as they kissed and licked his feet, the way people do with a great and mighty Lord. I suppose it was a victory for me, though it would be better if they honored the maker rather than the object. The great god then loudly proclaimed to all of them, “Bring an oxen and a mighty bull! Let them be sacrifices to the Lord! I will pick among the best of them.” People organized themselves like great amounts of headless chickens.
My god finally accepted Qisigu's arm in order to walk over, as people gathered to brusquely sweep the ground on which he walked. There was something glorious about seeing such mighty men acting as mere servants to a thing greater than themselves. Some found it noble. I don’t think I found it so, but I did find it pleasing. To humiliate others, to make them lowly and make myself high, that is what being grand really is. All that I entirely deserve.
“Soon,” I whispered in the most secretive of ways to ever-vigilant Relino, “I will be the one they treat like that.”
