Leo stood at the side of his altar, looking out over the hundreds who had gathered once more in his halls. He had not seen them this full in a dragon's age, not since Herios had spoken his last commandment from the skies above Norstro. He was happy that the people had decided to hear him one last time, he hoped they were ready – truly ready – for what he ached to tell them.
It was moons ago now that Leo himself had last spoken with the gods, he had spent his whole life listening and providing for them and yet they had stopped talking. He still tried to hear them, although it was as easy to hear them as to notice a draught during a storm. The gods had up until recently erred on the side of quietness, of silent peace. Yet last night he had once again heard the storm, the bluster and might that only a true god of Norstro could muster. So, he listened, to the story that he was to tell, the tale that he was to wield at his altar.
Leo wanted the historians, and the studious to remember him well. He was not a weak man but he was by no means a warrior or even truly a prophet. He was a mouthpiece for those that worked in the shadows and from the skies. The speaker took the his stage, gracefully yet with clear honour he stepped up to his Altar – the place from which all the legends were borne. He began to speak...
I was there you know, when men first walked this land. When fire was discovered and clans broke apart. Our people did not partake in the bloody battles across the ages but we did not quite stay our hand. We are as much a part of your bloody history as your kings and your noblest warriors. Although we crept from the shadows and tugged at the very nature of your hearts, we still guided you through what we wanted to find out.
This earth, populated by billions and thrived upon by a destructive people is but a laboratory. A large one but yes still just a lab for our people. You see we live for so long, what you refer to as a dragon's age, that boredom fills our lives. We wake to the same sky every single day and we sleep to the same shade of grey falling from the moon. So we fill our boredom with "things", we make toys and we play. While you hunt to live, fight to survive and attempt to build truly meaningful lives we watched. For centuries we played from behind the scenes easing you towards what we enjoyed. Guiding you into war and battles. Making your people squabble like children over a rattle.
You see life is a gift, but once it extends, once you have nothing to stop you from living it becomes a curse. Life only matters whilst you fight to keep it going. It is this fact that made us live through you. We cannot die so we entertained ourselves by watching you pass by one another's hands. It is truly a disgusting life we lead and yet we continued to lead it.
You question why I bother to tell you this, why I share what your gods truly are. We are vile, we have built your lives to bring them down again. Yet there is nothing you can do against this, though we are few you do not even know where to find us. What it would take to stop us. This is why I talk with you in secret, this is why I helped your family to build and maintain this temple and your followers. You need to lead them far from us, far from our hands.
We are not your gods, we are merely children who never had their toys taken away. I will try to guide our people away from this nature and away from your people. Please build a new people of your own, guide them and shape them as we shaped you but treat them well. War is not in your nature, love and peace are.
Leo ended the story with only a three words, "They are Liars". Those who had filled the hall roared, they screamed with anger and fear. So they marched through the doors and filed down the streets to newer pastures. They needed somewhere else to go now.
YOU ARE READING
The Forsaken People
Short StoryA short story about gods and people, a world that has been treated well but a people who have been disrespected