A false god

From down there, he looked at the pillar they approached. It seemed like a beacon of light, and at the same time, a source of life, and the way it supported the Sky on top of it reminded him of how it supported the existence of the Flock.

Having this in mind, it should be no surprise how big it is, taller than everything else in this world, and how thick it is, with one being even able to live with a full family in here, were there a house inside it. But even then it was only in moments like these that he was reminded of this reality.

Once upon a time, this would spark a sense of wonder and utmost desire in him that couldn’t be easily rivaled. He would fantasize about the view there from the top; how he would touch the very Sky with his fingers; how he would see from close how the Sky opens and the powerful winds come down to carry away the people and their possessions from this land. But now, although such a desire was still there, he feared doing this even more than he dreamed of doing it. Were the wind to come, wouldn’t it knock him onto the ground? What if as he climbed the pillar, his hand slipped and he fell?

No, it wasn’t just that. Maybe he feared these desires themselves now.

More than anything though, this made him wonder about how his father used to climb these pillars until the very end; he transpassed the wind, climbed and climbed despite the limitations of his own body, and at the same time even helped others. It was as if he was some sort of hero, always doing the right thing, despite any sort of selfish desire or fear.

At that moment, this seemed to Nico like some sort of ideal human.

That’s it then. He made up his mind.

He took a look around. Eyes were set on him, although in a more discreet way than before, and the people seemed restless. After his talk with him two weeks ago, the Shepherd publicly denounced the acts of whoever took part in the incident, and declared that Nico was ‘a person like any other, who should be protected of such brutality’. Nico was happy for this, but the realization that the general people didn’t share the kindness of forgiveness the Shepherd demonstrated at that moment made him somewhat sad.

But despite this he had to continue his walk. So, step by step, together with Natta he pulled the cart where Gray lay.

His joints hurt and were making a creaking noise, and with each step, he felt like he was losing strength. The life they had been leading wasn’t exactly the best, and it wasn’t really possible to say their bodies were as strong as before. Slowly, the increasing lack of what to eat was taking its toll on them. It wasn’t like they didn’t have anything, or that they were going to die from starvation, but it clearly wasn’t enough to lead a healthy life.

Yet, he couldn’t stop. It was still too early.

After all, he had a debt to pay. Debts that couldn’t be paid even in a full lifetime, so big that they were.

Now, this was the first time such a thought came to him, but what would happen with these debts once he died? Would someone become responsible for them?

…

The dust, coming from afar with the winds, in a journey it would pursue across all of this land, for all of eternity, impregnated his shoes. It was annoying, but some said it was also special and were quite fond of it. ‘It will be there forever, until the very end of this world’ they claimed, but in the end, it was just passing by, waiting to be blown away to somewhere else, at the mercy of powers outside of its control.

The Shepherd said that once someone dies, they will become dust; they wouldn’t ever leave this world, they wouldn’t ever stop existing. Before, Nico didn’t believe this though. To him, dust was just dust, and he didn’t want to ever become something as worthless as it.

Now though, he didn’t know. Actually, looking through that lens, of what he once believed, it was a somewhat sad thing. Strangely enough though, it had never seemed so to him before.

He concluded that whatever dust was, in one way or another, one day it would carry these debts away with it.

He let out a sigh—this was frustrating.

I wonder if mum and dad are part of the dust in my shoes right now.

…

Inevitably, his mind darted towards the golden ring he wore in his right hand. It had been there for so long, without ever being taken out, that he had grown completely used to it. Actually, it was there for so long, that it made Nico wonder how it still fitted in his hand just like it did before even after more than three years. It felt like an extension of his very body.

What should he do with it?

There was no doubt it was something special for him, but it was because of it that he made so many mistakes, that he allowed himself to have bad thoughts, right? After all, it’s not like something special has to be good, it can also be a bad thing.

…Everything would be a lot simpler if this ring never existed at all.

“You don’t dare—”

Right?

Dinner time came and they finally stopped—it had to be done now, as soon as possible.

He stood still, his eyes set on his right hand, looking for one last time at the golden ring and its carved inscriptions; for a moment, he could almost swear that in their places was written “damnation” or “salvation”, but after double checking, he saw nothing of this.

Oh, this was no good, no good at all.

As he reached for the ring, he noticed that his hand was trembling. He gulped down and continued, slowly pulling it away, sliding through his sweaty right hand index finger.

With that done, he watched it in the palm of his hand; it started to glow in its bright golden color, like a fire in the dark.

Why does it shine like this? He asked himself, but soon dismissed the question—it was better to forget about it.

To forget about it all.

To let it go.

Wasn’t it?

Slowly, he released it from his grip and—

It wouldn’t be a problem if he left it in his pocket, right?

———————————————————

“So, tomorrow I’ll climb the pillars,” he told the sick man who lay in front of him.

In the dark tent, the candle’s light illuminated the man’s wrinkled face as his eyes slowly turned towards Nico, and his trembling hand reached to him.

“…Don’t.”

“I need to do it.”

Gray gripped the hem of his shirt.

“Why?” he asked Nico.

“What other option do we have?”

“It’s—” he was interrupted by a dry, harsh cough, “it’s good enough as it is. You’re too young to occupy yourself with this. The equipment won’t fit on you and you don’t have the strength to do it by yourself. It’s easier for you to end up dead than for anything good to come out of this.“

Gray’s face was wrinkled and pale, but it hadn’t always been this way. His eyes were tired, and his movements sluggish, as if his body couldn’t stand it anymore, even though he once was surprisingly physically able for his age.

“Please, I want to do everything possible to make things better… No, actually, I need to, and that’s the only way.”

“…”

“I’ll do it independently of whatever you say.”

“…Alright” Gray sighed and turned to the other side of the bedroll.

“Good night.”

He didn’t receive an answer.

I hope he doesn’t get lonely while I’m outside.

He blew out the candle and everything went dark.

Step by step, walking in a fine line between falling after tripping over something and standing up, he got to the bedroll, where he slept in fear of the dreams he might have.

The few things he could still see disappeared as he closed his eyes, and soon they were substituted for something out of this reality.

“Hello.”

It was a strong, reverberant voice, echoing inside his head.

He turned back and saw someone floating there; it must’ve been the origin of the voice.

It had a familiar face…

“After all you can’t forget me as long as I still exist, even if you wish so.”

“W-wha—“

“Well, I’m Mitra, the patron of humankind. Nice to meet you, again.”

In the completely dark place they were, so much so that he couldn’t know where the ground ends and the walls, or maybe the horizon or something else, start. As a consequence, the man—or maybe, the being—in front of him, who even if somewhat overwhelmed by the oppressive darkness, shined, stood out strongly against the background.

“Are… are you real?”

It was the same question from long ago.

“As long as you believe so.”

It was the same answer.

“I… I don’t.”

“I see. Well, but unfortunately for you I’m here anyway.”

“Then what you just said is a lie?”

“No, not really.”

“Then—”

“You’re probably holding some kind of misconception,” he interrupted.

“Which is?”

The man shrugged it off, “it’s up to you to know.”

He claimed to be a god, yet affirmed that his existence depended only on others’ belief. How ironic.

Shouldn’t a god be self-evident?

There’s no way he isn’t a fake.

But then, who is he?

…

This was a question he couldn’t think of an answer to at the moment.

It’s not like he could tell anyone about this either, or it would have some… unwanted consequences.

“Well, besides all of that, it looks like that other guy finally won his bet, doesn’t it?” the self proclaimed god let out a sigh and continued. “I’m disappointed in you.”

The bet…

“I did the right thing.”

In the blink of an eye, the nonchalant posture of the man changed completely. He had an accusing glare in his eyes, and his muscles contracted as if he was ready to jump at Nico.

“Oh, really? The right thing?”

“Yes, the right decision.”

“You gave up on all you had, you forgot what was taught to you, you resigned yourself to this illusion… and that’s the right decision?”

At that moment, the man, the self proclaimed god shone brighter than ever before, illuminating Nico’s face, which was previously hidden in the shadows. And as the darkness retreated, he aggressively walked a few steps forward, approaching Nico.

“…Yes,” Nico said unwaveringly.

But the light stopped advancing, and the man came to a halt before he could reach him.

“You’re confined there, aren’t you?”

The man stood still and answered him. “Yes, this darkness is like a jail.”

“Which type of god is powerless like that?”

“Sometimes the obliviousness of many overwhelms even the brightest of truths.”

“…Stop making excuses. I won’t believe in your deceit. Not anymore.”

The man stopped floating, his feet now touching the ground. His head was on the same height as Nico, and he was looking at him eye to eye.

“Funny, you were proven wrong the moment you came in here.”

With the wave of a hand, the man had a ring floating in front of him.

It had a golden color, and was shining just like him. In it, there were carved inscriptions, which the meaning was unbeknownst to him.

Nico immediately reached for his pocket. It was empty.

“You—”

“Will you really choose to ignore all of what he did for you?”

“I…”

“Will you?”

“He doesn’t exist!”

He would be very grateful if he did, but that was not the case.

“In my book, that’s the same as saying ‘yes.’”

…

“Y-you can get rid of it then. I don’t need it anymore…”

“Look properly at it.”

He gave a step forward, into the light, but immediately came to a halt. It was too much, too bright, it hurt his eyes.

He tried to get out, but the man held his arm there, and with time, he grew used to it and the pain went away. The only thing left was a feeling of vulnerability and discomfort, as if at any moment something would happen to him.

“Now, look at it,” the man commanded.

He felt reluctant, but even if hesitantly, did as commanded.

He put his eye right in front of the ring. Across it, he could see a different world entirely; green hills and weird sticks coming from the ground, full of a green covering themselves and carrying what looked like fruits in them. He blinked and, right next, this sight was substituted by another, of a place full of red mushrooms, of the most varied sizes and shapes. Then, another, and another, and another.

“What is this?” he asked.

“It’s what you are giving up.”

“I’m not giving up on anything. I just looked at reality.”

“As your god, I assure you they are real.”

“You are a false god.”

The man sighed and looked right into his eyes.

“Listen, you are free to think whatever you want.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“No, that’s not a permission I’m giving you, it’s something you need to realize.”

And with that mysterious affirmation, it all went away.

He opened his eyes, and there wasn’t any of this there anymore.

He put his hand in his pocket—it was still there.

He wondered what to do, but in the end, left it there.