The Loneliest Traid

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  • Published: 2 Apr 2017
  • Updated: 13 May 2017
  • Status: Complete
Love and death and war and Gods and blood and magic and dancing and rest and revenge and kings and fate.
Don't worry, within these three stories you'll know yourself,
And I will put you back together again.


33. This is Not a Part of Life

Damn them.  Whoever is to say that your war is part of the life I watch over, may they rot for thinking great tragedy and death fits together with life.  It does not, and it never will.

    I am honoured to spin this tale with my sisters, as it is one of a few where my characters do not believe that fate made animals of men.  It is difficult to find people like that, who do more than send prayers to the other deities when they hear of their own death.  It makes you wonder what sort of people we shine towards, doesn’t it?  What holy really means, even?    

    I wish I could tell you that everything was going to be alright, that we only begin and end life, but no more, and we are blameless in all of this.

    My sister, she is beautiful and she is kind, but she is a liar too.  She spoke of us laughing, knowing what was to come in their world, but did she tell you that at birth she too determines when a person is to die?

    Maybe she is afraid that you will not trust her, as she knows when you too reading this shall go - but you are no idiot.  You have to trust her, she allowed you to be born despite the odds.  And it is not her fault that death must come, she is simply allowing time for you to be when most would not care if you were or not.

    And just try to not trust me, if you can take the dare.  You will find yourself living life in fear, never leaving home, never finding what was to be yours in a world that only takes, so trigger-happy, your people.

    But life is a wondrous thing, and most tend to trust me somewhat, so lead themselves down dangerous paths to find some kind of majesty, fame or fortune, or even just to find something worth living for.

    Damn them who think that this life is no more than getting by days anyway they can.  Our heroes never thought that.  It is about finding something to live for, something beautiful.  It might destroy your soul in the end, send you to hell, but that is not my business.  Mine is one of letting you off to find that thing worth living for.  Your love, your children, your money, your drugs, your knife - I cannot judge you.  How can I?  I made you.

    And for Morta?  She waits for you to lose that, the thing worth living for, with careful, caring eyes.  My sister is wise, never doubt that.

    Now for the heroes, the lonely few who thought they had nothing to live for, and if I can say?

    They only just found it.

    Morta is reading over my shoulder, but for now we give the heroes their time to be with what they love, because do you know what?  And do you know what I am?

    I am the deity of life, and in life, we give them what they need to keep breathing.

    And this is the story of how they’re taken away.

    The ballad gives a gentle strum, and you can hear it from all ends of the second realm.  It is enchanting, and mesmerizing, and we know it is all our fault - and the other Gods stare us down, knowing that too.

    So what do you do with a life with nothing to live for?

    Well, that is not my story to tell.

    Not yet.

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