New voices, new flash-length fantasy.
When the Wind blows...
By Sergio "ente per ente" PALUMBO
I AM THE WIND.
I go up and down, to the East and to the West, over the continent, past the islands, across the seas, higher than the mountain ranges. To the end of the World…
But I can’t get any relief, any joy. I possess no freedom at all.
It all began many years ago. At that time I was the former Emperor of the Great Kingdom of Gerkkkk, the powerful country that, for the first time in history, did rule all over the continent, uniting by force every county, realm and fortified town within its wide territory. Our stalwart cavalry and the well trained infantry troops marched on and conquered all the enemies who ever dared to oppose us. I was the mind that made that happen, the man who set up everything, who built such an army and dictated the military operations, the leader who started the wars, the king that became an Emperor, the first Emperor and the Emperor of all the Emperors.
My middle-aged face, my blue eyes, my black shag over a long, pointed nose and my gold crown were an icon, a symbol of victory for my men and a sign of coming defeat for all our adversaries.
Then, during my advancing route to power and conquest along the endless steppes of the western part of the mainland, one day our troops came near to the town which was the gate to the sacred Temple of Jun. Well, indeed, it was sacred for the people who lived there, within the Republic of Junlehw. . . It was a religious state on top of a hard mountain range and was run by monks. They were prayerful, weaponless and peaceful, as far as we knew, but their religion was nothing for us, meaningless. We believed only in power, strength, primacy and fighting, so we did not value so much their ways, we did not listen to their prayers, we made fun of their way of living. We put our arms against their calmness, our aggressiveness against their weakness and there was no match. Our army proceeded anyway, no matter the resistance found, the lives taken, the dead left along the streets of the lower town. "To the riches of the Temple!” the men cried out "To the Temple of the monks!” and so I agreed.
Our soldiers were famished and weary, they needed prey to feed on at once, and the good opportunity given from that place full of gold, silver and precious stones was just the right target to reach at once. To calm them, to make them happy, to continue the war.
And so I agreed.
We lay siege to the Temple, our wait was brief, the conquest very fast, and the destruction we brought there was really impressive. The monks fought bravely, but they had no chance, so, when we entered the main hall inside the building, past the destroyed doors, the dead guards in armor and the many, many bodies on the ground, we finally faced the Altar of Jun.
The chief monks were still inside, ready to defend it by means of their own lives, but they were very few.
I gave them the opportunity to surrender, to join our cause, to fight our war, but they refused to worship our principles, even to worhip me! They even tried to threaten me; “If you try to defile this sacred Altar, terrible consequences await for you!” the chief monk told me, and so I became really upset. I had all of them put to death, the whole temple burned, and I kept watching it burning all day long, as it was a huge building all of wood.
But, as it was the Temple of an Air God of that (now forgotten. . .) people, it all began, and indeed a bad consequence occurred to me.
I never had any confidence in the words coming from the monks while they were sabered, counting them only as desperate cries by dying people, but indeed they proved true in the end. As their chief monk kept telling me, even while our swords left him bleeding, if I had the sacred Altar violated, the Air God would have taken revenge on me. I had a big laugh at that.
But soon I changed my mind.
In the following days, my well being began disappearing little by little. . . I was feeling strengthless,dubious, exhausted, and my men told me that I looked not strong as before, my paleness began worrying them, maybe I was ill…In fact, as the old chief monk had said, the Air God was upset cause of the destruction of his main temple, and made so that the air current blowing from the East keep away from me one piece of my being everyday, at first maybe even unnoticed, apparently unseen, but more and more consistently, day after day. So my strength went away, my body was weakened, my mind failed to work appropriately, my will diminished.
The air currents stripped away from me- hour after hour- all the many atoms, the particles we are told to be made of…
Until one day I completely disappeared, staying without substance, having no form or physical appearance. Without even a body.
And so I am now.
A Wind, strong, powerful but incapable of touching everything, of possessing a single good, of deciding how to act or where to spin my force…no freedom at all, no real power indeed, no riches at my disposal anyway. . . no more.
Once I was everything, the king made Emperor of the whole land,the Emperor of the Emperors, and now I am nothing, only a pale reflection of my past being, flying around according to current’s desire, not to my own.
So when it blows I go with it, by force, necessarily, as a part of it, driven by it, following its spin, its will…the will of the Air God! And so I pay for all my bad actions, my acts again innocent people, my bloody rise to power.
So, forever, I go up and down, to the East and the West,over the continent, past the islands, across the seas, over the mountain ranges.To the end of the World…
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My biography: I'm an Italian public servant who graduated from Law School working in the public real estates branch. I've published a Fantasy RolePlaying illustrated Manual called WarBlades, which is more than 400 pages long. Some of my works and short stories have been published on American Aphelion Webzine. I am also a scale modeler who likes mostly Science Fiction and Real Space models, some of my little Dioramas have been shown also on the American site StarShipModeler or MechaModelComp.
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