Over mountains and forests and seas
Was it better or worse? Different, certainly. Where money and wealth were the conduits of greed and power, magic and influence seemed to be the drivers in this world. Having lived in both, he could declare that they were hopelessly similar, with deities replacing the greedy megalomaniacs who were determined to run Earth into dust for their own benefit, uncaring for the future generations.
Perhaps it was too harsh of a judgement, too far a leap to make. And yet… his innate distrust of anything who would call itself a god or a herald of a god was happily making these leaps today. Kia’s return had done much to stir up old prejudices and judgements within him, despite all that he’d been through personally with the gods.
‘The history of my world is written in the blood of those who tried to explain the world around them using deities and gods – the stories became twisted when some cunning, evil individuals would think to label themselves Gods, and demand such rituals and services that would keep them and their friends rich while their followers would become poorer and poorer. All in the name of enlightenment.’ A bitterness tainted his words as he conveyed them. It was something he’d said as much to mostly anyone who dared strike up the topic with him.
‘I had come to hope the deities here were different. Real.’ Silence followed, heavy with thought.
‘I don’t quite know what to think of any of it now.’ Softly, the words came, the admission, before more silence. Then, as if he abruptly remembered what Deimos had actually asked, he added: ‘Many on my world choose to believe in religion, in false gods. Some parts of the world do not have a choice.’
Perhaps it was too harsh of a judgement, too far a leap to make. And yet… his innate distrust of anything who would call itself a god or a herald of a god was happily making these leaps today. Kia’s return had done much to stir up old prejudices and judgements within him, despite all that he’d been through personally with the gods.
‘The history of my world is written in the blood of those who tried to explain the world around them using deities and gods – the stories became twisted when some cunning, evil individuals would think to label themselves Gods, and demand such rituals and services that would keep them and their friends rich while their followers would become poorer and poorer. All in the name of enlightenment.’ A bitterness tainted his words as he conveyed them. It was something he’d said as much to mostly anyone who dared strike up the topic with him.
‘I had come to hope the deities here were different. Real.’ Silence followed, heavy with thought.
‘I don’t quite know what to think of any of it now.’ Softly, the words came, the admission, before more silence. Then, as if he abruptly remembered what Deimos had actually asked, he added: ‘Many on my world choose to believe in religion, in false gods. Some parts of the world do not have a choice.’
to go anywhere that I please
CHULANE
