Neytopia › Part 2: Noon › Chapter 25

Damned heathens

The raven and his band traveled north looking for new recruits for his army. But all he found was scattered tribes fleeing from the northern king. Eventually they reached a road that led to a small town. Millenary trees covered both sides of the road up to the town. From the distance he spotted something hanging from them. As they came closer, the picture became clearer.

Whole families hung from the branches, fully clothed and decomposing. The wind rocked their bodies carefully, like newborns in their cribs. But the hungry gulls had stripped their flesh and plucked out their eyes. The raven spoke in hush tones to his band, fearing an ambush or worse,

Quick, hide. I’ll investigate that place. Come only if you hear me whistle twice.

The raven covered himself with bandages and other white cloth to look like a burn victim once more. Then he walked to the town and begged in silence. He sat outside a tavern and listened. A drunk man close to the door was talking particularly loud,

And I tell thee in all truth, they be a threat worse even than the heathens.

A second man replied,

Damned heathens.

Those f-f-filthy barbarians have taken over the main port-city. They have all their people there, drinking, fornicating—

Goddamned heathens.

The profits of trade hath swollen their bellies and bought them armies beyond counting. Though southern lords should unite against them, they won’t for the pettiest of causes—

Fucking heathens!

Yes, they rather the heathen slayeth their neighbor than put their differences aside. Such is their hatred.

A woman dropped a coin for the raven, but he was so focused on the conversation that it hit his eye. He twisted and cringed to show his appreciation for the gift, playing the part of leper, but the woman had already left. A new voice joined the conversation.

Have thou heard? The northern king is recruiting more men. Rumor sayeth we shall soon wage war on the heathens.

The drunk man replied,

I mean, of course. It-it’s only natural that barbarians should come here once the south has fallen.

The raven wandered beggarly around the town. He eavesdropped on townsfolk who ignored him completely as long as he was standing far enough. They all talked about “burning heathens”, “killing infidels” and “the Greatest glory”. He left the town and returned to his band. He removed his bandages and grabbed two swords.

Giant, come with me.

The girl put her hands on his, trying to stop him. She asked,

Please, no.

He pushed her aside and marched on the town with the giant by his side. As they walked through the main street, the citizens came out to meet them. All of them kneeled and looked at them with tears of joy in their eyes. Only one man stood up from the crowd and spoke, never looking directly into their eyes,

We have waited for your return for so long, o Ruler of the earth and skies, o Greater man.

The raven and the giant looked at each other. Then the man continued,

Thou hast come unto us to bless thy children, o Father. Thou hast come to deliver us from evil!

The giant stared at the man, thinking,

He sounds like he just had a stroke.

But then he remembered those words were popular centuries ago. The giant asked, pointing at the trees where the families rested,

Who hung those people!?

The hallowed men did, o Greater man, o Lord. For THE EVIL ONE had kissed those families. They broke our covenant with thee, wherefore they were surely put to death. Art thou not jubilant with this?

The giant and the raven were shocked at his calm justification and the complete complacency of the rest of the town. The raven could not hold his tongue,

What is the meaning of this? Are you all insane!?

The giant thought about what the man had said,

Wait. Why did you call me that, “Greater man”?

Whispers began to mount among the believers. The man replied,

We thought you knew, o Master. Thou art the ruler of the land, and thy servant who walketh by thy side is holy as well, therefore we look not upon thine eyes. Many a year ago, a prophet among us was shown thine image, that of a man Greater than any, ruling the people from thy home in the most far away place. Thou told him what he and our people should and should not do to keep thy favor, and we have followed thy commandments since.

The giant replied eloquently,

Bullshit! I have spent hundreds of years isolated in an island. You must be mistaking me for someone else. How did you recognize me as your ‘Master’?

For the prophet drew thine image, and we know thee.

The man pointed to a church. On one of the side walls there was a large mural with the face of the giant, eyes wide open, above the sentence “He watches over all”. The resemblance was uncanny. The giant continued, confused by the image,

That image is… confusion. But I’m not who you think I am. I would never command you to murder a whole family on my account, no matter what the parents had done, the children were innocent.

The man from the crowd was growing anxious when he replied,

But when thou spake unto thy prophet, o Greater man, thou clearly said: ‘No person nor animal shalt eat of the fruit that grows facing the ground, for it faces sin, and the person wilt too face sin. Thou shalt eat only from the fruit that faces the sky, for it faces virtue, and the person that eateth it wilt too face virtue’.

Then the man pointed to trees with hanging familie and explained,

That family ate sinful apples and were in bed with the evil one. Those others did eat of a lamb that was without blemish which was meant for a burnt offering unto the Lord, so thou would forgive our sins and heal our sick with the blood of the sacrifice. But there was no sacrifice to be made and our sick could not be healed because of them. And lo, the sick died. And, lo, that family died too.

What are you talking about? I would never, NEVER, make up these bullshit rules. I’m afraid someone has tricked you, you poor delusional fools.

The man stood up and the other townsfolk followed. The giant had clearly struck a cord. Both the raven and the giant realized they made a mistake coming to the town. But it was a mistake they wanted to make. The whispers among the crowd turned to chatter; the chatter turned to accusations. A woman screamed from the crowd,

That is not the Greater man, he can’t be!

They’re trying to trick us into sin!

Impostors!

Evilmongers!

Damned heathens!

Demons! They are demons!

The crowd fetched their pitchforks. The giant took a deep breath and roared as loudly as he could so the crowd would shut up and listen. Once there was silence he spoke in a last attempt to reason with them,

Only a madman would ask you to murder children, can’t you see that? I’m trying to help you realize that you’re sick. I’m not a madman, you are!

Now the crowd was really angry, and there was no stopping them. The crowd shouted,

We’re the chosen ones!

This monster is a traitor and an impostor!

Burn them, burn them all!

Demons!

Demons!

Cleanse the impure!

Bring the fire!

The crowd rushed to attack the raven and the giant with whatever they could find around town. Some tried to poke them with pitchforks. Others flung lit lanterns and torches at them, trying to burn them. The raven unleashed his wings and flew high above the crowd.

Kill the flying demon!

Slay the monsters!

The raven had a clear path to fly away from the town. But the giant could not flee because all the town was there blocking their way, so he was forced to stay and fight. The raven didn’t even think about flying away. He whistled twice to summon his band. The giant crushed the townsfolk when they tried to burn or stab him. The raven flew above the crowd, avoiding pitchforks, pans and pokers. He sliced arms, faces and throats alike as he descended on his enemies to then regain altitude. His band crushed one of the town’s flanks using the weapons and armor they had stolen from the manrabbits.

The townsfolk fought down to the last one of them even when they had never been trained for battle. Many children were stomped by the frenzied townsfolk, others by the giant. A little boy came at the raven with rusty scissors. The raven froze, unwilling to attack the little boy, and the boy stuck the scissors on the raven’s leg. The raven, mad, cut off the boy’s head.

The battle grew vicious and desperate. Candles and torches started fires where they fell. The houses and buildings were made of wood, straw and sometimes a few rocks, the only building materials that were considered pure and therefore allowed in construction.

Everything caught fire.

As the fire raged, the fight became more cruel and miserable. After watching their neighbors and children die, the townsfolk lost their fear of death and charged recklessly. Part of his band fell in battle, and the rest had to retreat before the flames trapped them. The raven hurled those who attacked from windows and balconies on the ones below. The giant stomped and kicked whoever came at him.

The streets ran red with blood.

Not a soul tried to flee. When fire trapped some people in a building, they jumped off trying to hit the raven or the giant with their body.

All the people in the town died.

Every single building burned down.

When the fight was over, the raven and the giant barely made it out. They were bleeding out and kept slipping on the bloody ground. Flames blocked most paths, so they forced their way out pushing away some rubble.

Exhausted, bruised, cut and burnt, the raven and the giant reached the millenary trees. There they laid, looking up at the sky. The raven’s plumes were charred. Before they passed out from the pain, the giant said to the raven,

Y—

The giant stopped to cough some blood.

You should’ve flown away, friend, saved yourself.

No, I needed you alive. You can’t die on me until I free you from your oath.

They both laughed as the town collapsed on itself, burying hundreds in its charred ruins.