Chapter 2-Shurn

Shurn was many things. Despised, unlucky, troublemaker, problem-child, poor second-rate second son… the list went on. An idiot? Not so much.

This mysterious evil club could take him places. He could take over the village. . . No, the Kingdom. . .

As he held the object, visions began to take shape. Shurn saw himself leading a horde of subjugated monsters against the self-righteous villagers. Vision-Shurn turned the club on them, erasing their will and turning them into mindless slaves. Then, he was a magnificent armored man riding a legendary dragon, a horde of brain dead do-gooders stood opposing him with their vacant eyes, audibly mouthbreathing–

The vision came to a screeching halt. Shurn had one moment of confusion before the visions and the feelings of god-like dominion and pride winked out.

Then they came back.

Then they were gone.

Without warning, he saw himself as a wandering fortune teller, toothless and spouting nonsense to random passersby.

Then he was a middle-aged herbalist with a wise and rather bland demeanor.

Then he was a street clown, juggling several rats who were squeaking in protest.

Each vision was disorienting enough on its face but with each one came thoughts, memories and impressions. He remembered being the fortune-teller; Khaba.

He was Ursum the Greenthumb. He missed his wife and children who’d passed away in the plague seven years prior. Naturally, he knew the effects of Wormroot and Knoxwort and he hummed as he sold some along with careful instructions to an exhausted innkeeper.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Most bizarrely, Traxit the Entertainer knew how to tame rats to the point where they allowed themselves to be juggled without running or biting him. He also knew how to juggle. Specifically, how to juggle rats.

All in all it was a terrifying experience. Shurn suddenly leapt up and ran to the cave exit before emptying his stomach over the hillside.

Unfortunately, he was still holding the club.

His head spun as more and more memories assaulted him, drowning him with their intensity. He was a pauper, a priest, a killer for hire, a farmer, a duke, a judge. Finally, he was a god, and saw the world in front of him. It was vast and beautiful and also tiny. Distantly, he could taste. . . Tea? Some kind of fruity mixture. . .

Shurn lay slumped at the cave's entrance. His pupils were very wide.

Interlude-Lord of Deceit (and Mid-life crisisisis)

See, you mortals like to give us Higher Beings names like ‘Shuldar, God of Order’ or ‘Malifus, He-who-is Chaos Incarnate’. Yawn. Honestly? That's just you projecting yourselves onto us. We aren’t ‘Righteousness Personified’ or anything and neither are we all that evil as far as I can tell. We just exist on a different order of magnitude than you do and with some different rules.

I mean, you can call that a god, but that’s a bit like a microbe calling a human a god. You can see the microbe with the right tools but it doesn’t make you a god. Context and Sh*t. You get the idea.

Anywho, it was by reflex that I sent the kid visions of fulfilling his childhood fantasies. You wouldn’t believe how many people become my pawn with just that.

But then, I said to myself, is this really who I want to be? Time and again I keep getting kicked out of the playground as it were. Maybe it’s time for a change of strategy? I thought about some professions I might send the kid down, looking a couple of decades into Fate down each possibility. Oh yeah, Fate is just the complete knowledge of all ongoing variables in the equation that is the World and an Understanding (Capital ‘U’ here) of how it plays out when you alter certain aspects of it.

No biggie. What's that? You mean you don’t look into the cosmic tapestry of existence when deciding what to get at the grocery? Yeah, stay in your lane microbe. I may be having a midlife crisis here but I'm still. . . erm. . .Me. Sure, let’s go with that.

Now that I think about it, is someone watching me? I always feel like somebody’s watching me..