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Back during school I forgot to post this for you guys to critique. It was a short story competition that also was a major grade in my English class. I received top marks, and also a note from the teacher about being one of the best student writers she has had. The topic was supposed to be some sort of origin story. So I did, why cultures hate snakes, the beginning of free will, and how the continents became separate.
I couldn't find the digital final draft, so i'm sorry. Here you go! Critique at will, even though this isn't my final.
In the beginning, the lands of Plataea were at peace. The gods watched over the people they had molded in their likenesses, commanding and guiding them as shepherds did their sheep. Yet something was different. One god, Acirema, was held back from the mortals. His Mother and Father, in their kingdom of heaven, had cast him away for his thoughts on how the world should be. Acirema, in his aspect of the Eagle, cried out for the people he watched below as he lived out his banishment in that form upon the Earth.
The god of Freedom wanted just that, but at a cost the other deities did not understand. He wanted the people to be uncontrolled, and free to live how they wanted. He saw no glory in mindless worshippers. The Eagle stayed on his perch, at the tallest mountain in the world. This massive structure of stone and earth was the main religious place of the other gods. Thousands upon thousands of people wandered the land to arrive there and pledge their allegiance once more to those who ruled over them.
On the holy day of Desper, goddess of love, Acirema flew over the walking priests mocking them with cries of disdain and mockery. His presence, ignored for so many years, was a plight upon the land in the minds of the people and priests that marched across the land. By a flicker of chance and magical allure, one pair of eyes looked upward upon the Eagle as it flew by again and again. This, but a humble monk, was suddenly mesmerized by the strange creature, and watched as Acirema ended his flight to perch higher upon the mountainside.
Giving up on his pilgrimage, and called by a feeling that he could not understand, the monk wandered upwards, climbing upon the rocks until he found the resting deity.
Acirema looked upon him with sudden curiosity. No one had before visited him, though he had been upon Plataea for a millennia. So he spoke to the monk who looked upon him in awe saying:
“Why have you come to my nest mortal, for I am not wanting to be tainted by your dull view of life.” The Monk, who’s name was Uther, was startled at the voice. It was melodious, deep and powerful, and suddenly he felt a clearing of his mind.
“I have come to look upon you oh most glorious of creatures.” He trembled in his response, for Acirema seemed to grow in size as he spread his wings and screamed a challenge.
“Where have the people of Plataea been when I have called? Where were you oh Monk when I was cast from my home? For it is I, Acirema, lord of choice, and god of freedom. Now be gone before I reveal my divine self and smite you!” His words, though powerful, were in vain. His threats weak. He had no dangerous power in his mortal body, only the ones that were in his mind.
Uther saw something different in the great bird, something he had been blinded of before. He now knew that the Eagle spoke true. He was a god. He cowered now, realizing that he had left this great being out of his prayers. Casting himself down, he immediately wept for the Eagle who spoke to him now.
“Why do you weep for me mortal? I have but seen one man who was free on this place you call Earth, and the other gods, my own brothers and sisters, took his life from me and smothered it with the bars of conformity. Weep not for a fallen god, but weep for your people, for they do not understand the will of who you have witnessed here nor will they ever.” Acirema hissed in anger. Uther looked into his eyes, golden and fearless, and was suddenly overtaken by a sense of righteousness. He understood now what the Eagle said, the great and powerful fallen deity. He spread his lips crying:
“Oh great Acirema, I see what you say is in essence of truth! For the people I come from no not of the glories of Freedom that I see portrayed in thine aspect, but wrong you are on the account that they will never understand!”
Acirema, froze and eyed the Monk with a stare that would have shattered mountains if he still retained his powers of the sort. Uther continued saying, “I shall be your prophet, and you shall grow in power. Give me the words to say and I shall say them, for just as my eyes were opened this day so shall the eyes of my family, and my people.”
The Eagle then spoke to his single believer. He called out words of the true meaning of life. Man was not to be unknowing of the world around them. They were not to live with the purpose of pure worship. The peoples were to be free, free to choose whether to believe, for that made their beliefs even more spectacular. They should govern their own lands, and make their own choices, only calling upon the gods in great need. For what was life without a struggle? How could true happiness exist without anything to accomplish?
Uther listened, and stayed there for many weeks. The god hunted for them both, his keen eyes and sharp claws fending for the two of them. Then, winter came upon the mountainside, and it was coated in a brilliant ice. Never before had Acirema seen such a cold, and he knew at once that the other gods saw his deeds with the mortal and disapproved of them. He was thus angered, for he knew that the whole of the world was covered in winters cloak at the other gods anger. He turned to Uther saying, “See what happens when someone attempts to be a truly good and free man upon the Earth? I now name you in the ancient language of the gods my prophet Uther. I shall call you Justice, and just shall you be.”
Justice bowed low, and looked upon the god in a different light. To be named in the language of the gods was a blessing, one he would never forget. Acirema paused, looking out across the lands from the mountain. He knew then, that under that cold and grey sky, it was time.
“I command thee my prophet to go now. Go out to your friends and family. Show them what I cannot, for I am surprised my Father and Mother have let me get this far. To end your mortal speech is a whole different type of power, one that they would need the consensus of all of the gods in the holy court to enforce.”
Justice nodded, but voiced his question and worry then:
“Would it not be easy for them to come to an agreement my lord? For they are likeminded in even your banishment, may they be accursed for that unrighteousness.”
Acirema smiled, for he saw what the mortal said as true, but there was a single thing that he knew was wrong in the reasoning of him. “Woe be to those above my disciple, for as I said, it would require all the gods. They may have taken my authority over the Earth, but they can not unmake me. God as I was, god still I am, and I will never agree to their treachery.”
So Justice went out, arriving in the lands of his people. They greeted him with happiness, but were thus confused at his view of their lives. When he spoke of his life on the mountain his own family cast him out and were ashamed of him. To speak against the gods was unheard of, and they would not listen. Doors were closed, but this stopped him little. The prophet stood in the marketplace, he spoke of the Eagle, and of the blindness the others lived in. The gods gathered together in Heavan’s courts saying, “What can we do to silence this mortal? We would have to call upon our broken brother, and he would refuse us still.” So they spoke, and thought hard.
Justice continued in his ways, and now some stopped to listen to his words, and question with sincerity. Those who stayed started to believe, and as that number grew, so did the power of Acirema. The more who believed in his existence and his teachings, the more restored his power would be.
Seeing this, the King of gods, his own father, called down to him saying:
“My son, how dare you question the authority of those above. We art most exalted, and yet you try to usurp us such!? What say you!?”
Acirema gathered himself into a dangerous wrath, and threw forth the cry of the Eagle before responding. “Is it but my duty to question the will of my Father and his before him? Am I not the scorned son? The embarrassment? Hold fast father, for my deeds are all but done and just as the weak child calls out in the night for his needs, so shall I keep calling until I receive my just reward.” A great storm fell across the mountain then, sheets of battering rain pummeled the earth and stone. Acirema fled into the wilderness, leaving the precipice for the first time in many years. He called back as he flew saying, “In the end I shall have my will and way, and the foolish ones you surround yourself with shall bow to me father.”
Months turned into years, and every day another storm crashed down upon Acirema where he was. The Eagle outran them all, calling out in mockery to those who caste them. For every single man who believed in Acirema, the weaker the gods above became, until finally it was time for a challenge. After so many years, many upon the Earth trusted in the god of Freedom, and the opposite was viewed towards those in the Heavenly Courts. So, the king of the gods came down in the form of a man, and gathered all who still believed in him and his fellow deities to him in a massive conclave. He spoke of Acirema as a usurper, and a false god, making it out so that he was an evil spirit here to take their lives away.
Justice, who hid behind a great stone and listened to the speech, hurried away to find his master. The prophet after many years knew that the Eagle would want to hear the rage that his father had built up in the other people. When he spoke to him Acirema cried out mournfully, for he kenw his father had found a way to be rid of him. Only by mortal hands could his life be ended, and now all but few of the hunters and warriors would be after him. He flew long and far until he arrived once again at his original mountain home. He found the whole sumit crumbled and scattered for miles in every direction.
The banished god wept, and his tears brought the pity of his mother up on high. She was the one who had not given up on him, but for fear of his father, and she snuck out of Heavan’s gates that night and came down to him in the form of a dove. When he saw her he drew himself up in attention. Her voice was soft and sweet on his ears as she comforted him saying, “Come my son, it is not to be over just yet. I see now the true cruelty with which my husband has treated you and your own with. It was but I who stayed his hand thus far, but now it shall be to late for you.”
At these words Acirema shook his head. “Nay, my father has forgotten one ancient right of mine, instilled by your own father at my birth.” The queen of the gods shook her head fervently quoting what she knew was her son’s thoughts fearfully:
“When the world is all in strife and the race of man spills it’s lifeblood across all the lands, then the Eagle shall regain his power to end the suffering, for none but he understands the plight of the mortal race.” Acirema’s mother finished the prophecy tearfully, but no words would persuade her son that such a thing was wrong.
“Oh mother of mine, who is queen of gods and beauty, learn this now in my presence. The life I have lived has been a hard one, but I know that those on this Earth want to be free. I feel it in my bones, and in the air we breathe. They must go to war now, my people against those of my father, and in the pinnacle of the bloodshed shall I have my strength restored.” He shook his head, knowing the weight of his words.
His mother fled then, hiding in her chambers high above and refusing to see anyone but her personal servants. The Eagle called forth his people, just as his father had, and gave unto them the knowledge to create weapons of war. Long metal blades, and heavy shields. They knew his purpose, and went out then in a serious mood to wage his war.
Years passed, and still none knew what the outcome of the brutal warfare would be. Justice led the armies of his lord, and he won many battles. Whole rivers of blood flowed behind the armies of the free, for none could withstand the will of them in their beliefs. Acirema watched them in their conquest, gaining strength every day. Whenever asked of the prophecy, he would answer, “It shall soon be fulfilled.”
Into the winter of the twelfth year, a massive battle was fought in which all of the gods of the heavenly court stood about in sudden fear and worry. This was to be the one; they could see it in the signs sketched throughout the universe. Many fled then, going to different corners of all creation. The king of the gods then huddled down on his throne, watching as Justice raised the flag of freedom, which bore the vicious symbol of the rattlesnake, over the bodies of the fallen.
Acirema then was at his full power once more. He took his true form, a strong man with flowing locks and a beard. Those who served him saw the fierceness in his gaze and the freedom in his movements then, and praised him saying, “All but you are unworthy of our prayers!”
The god of freedom went into the heavenly courts, leaving Justice behind to rule in his stead, as he faced down his father. The other, older and weaker then he once was because of the deaths of his subjects, looked upon him with great fear.
“What is to become of me, oh snake?” He hissed as he spat at the feet of his son.
Acirema caste him to the ground then, and toppled his throne crying, “Oh but I, Acirema, and to be a snake unto you? I who was forced out of his own house because I was not in the mind to bow so low that I would be breathing dirt? Nay, it is to be you who is a snake.” With that Acirema cursed his father, and the serpent, to be symbols of cowardice and evil throughout all the mortal lands.
Then, the god of freedom gathered all of the other deities to him saying, “I shall divide the lands of earth, and split them with great oceans of water, and each of us shall govern but one. Mine shall be the land of the free, and it shall be the greatest of them all.” At his words the great continent of Plataea was split, and the oceans and seas were formed. The peoples were divided, and the other gods thanked him for his mercy.
The Eagle then viewed his work in his return, and found it just.
The race of man was free.
I couldn't find the digital final draft, so i'm sorry. Here you go! Critique at will, even though this isn't my final.
_____________
In the beginning, the lands of Plataea were at peace. The gods watched over the people they had molded in their likenesses, commanding and guiding them as shepherds did their sheep. Yet something was different. One god, Acirema, was held back from the mortals. His Mother and Father, in their kingdom of heaven, had cast him away for his thoughts on how the world should be. Acirema, in his aspect of the Eagle, cried out for the people he watched below as he lived out his banishment in that form upon the Earth.
The god of Freedom wanted just that, but at a cost the other deities did not understand. He wanted the people to be uncontrolled, and free to live how they wanted. He saw no glory in mindless worshippers. The Eagle stayed on his perch, at the tallest mountain in the world. This massive structure of stone and earth was the main religious place of the other gods. Thousands upon thousands of people wandered the land to arrive there and pledge their allegiance once more to those who ruled over them.
On the holy day of Desper, goddess of love, Acirema flew over the walking priests mocking them with cries of disdain and mockery. His presence, ignored for so many years, was a plight upon the land in the minds of the people and priests that marched across the land. By a flicker of chance and magical allure, one pair of eyes looked upward upon the Eagle as it flew by again and again. This, but a humble monk, was suddenly mesmerized by the strange creature, and watched as Acirema ended his flight to perch higher upon the mountainside.
Giving up on his pilgrimage, and called by a feeling that he could not understand, the monk wandered upwards, climbing upon the rocks until he found the resting deity.
Acirema looked upon him with sudden curiosity. No one had before visited him, though he had been upon Plataea for a millennia. So he spoke to the monk who looked upon him in awe saying:
“Why have you come to my nest mortal, for I am not wanting to be tainted by your dull view of life.” The Monk, who’s name was Uther, was startled at the voice. It was melodious, deep and powerful, and suddenly he felt a clearing of his mind.
“I have come to look upon you oh most glorious of creatures.” He trembled in his response, for Acirema seemed to grow in size as he spread his wings and screamed a challenge.
“Where have the people of Plataea been when I have called? Where were you oh Monk when I was cast from my home? For it is I, Acirema, lord of choice, and god of freedom. Now be gone before I reveal my divine self and smite you!” His words, though powerful, were in vain. His threats weak. He had no dangerous power in his mortal body, only the ones that were in his mind.
Uther saw something different in the great bird, something he had been blinded of before. He now knew that the Eagle spoke true. He was a god. He cowered now, realizing that he had left this great being out of his prayers. Casting himself down, he immediately wept for the Eagle who spoke to him now.
“Why do you weep for me mortal? I have but seen one man who was free on this place you call Earth, and the other gods, my own brothers and sisters, took his life from me and smothered it with the bars of conformity. Weep not for a fallen god, but weep for your people, for they do not understand the will of who you have witnessed here nor will they ever.” Acirema hissed in anger. Uther looked into his eyes, golden and fearless, and was suddenly overtaken by a sense of righteousness. He understood now what the Eagle said, the great and powerful fallen deity. He spread his lips crying:
“Oh great Acirema, I see what you say is in essence of truth! For the people I come from no not of the glories of Freedom that I see portrayed in thine aspect, but wrong you are on the account that they will never understand!”
Acirema, froze and eyed the Monk with a stare that would have shattered mountains if he still retained his powers of the sort. Uther continued saying, “I shall be your prophet, and you shall grow in power. Give me the words to say and I shall say them, for just as my eyes were opened this day so shall the eyes of my family, and my people.”
The Eagle then spoke to his single believer. He called out words of the true meaning of life. Man was not to be unknowing of the world around them. They were not to live with the purpose of pure worship. The peoples were to be free, free to choose whether to believe, for that made their beliefs even more spectacular. They should govern their own lands, and make their own choices, only calling upon the gods in great need. For what was life without a struggle? How could true happiness exist without anything to accomplish?
Uther listened, and stayed there for many weeks. The god hunted for them both, his keen eyes and sharp claws fending for the two of them. Then, winter came upon the mountainside, and it was coated in a brilliant ice. Never before had Acirema seen such a cold, and he knew at once that the other gods saw his deeds with the mortal and disapproved of them. He was thus angered, for he knew that the whole of the world was covered in winters cloak at the other gods anger. He turned to Uther saying, “See what happens when someone attempts to be a truly good and free man upon the Earth? I now name you in the ancient language of the gods my prophet Uther. I shall call you Justice, and just shall you be.”
Justice bowed low, and looked upon the god in a different light. To be named in the language of the gods was a blessing, one he would never forget. Acirema paused, looking out across the lands from the mountain. He knew then, that under that cold and grey sky, it was time.
“I command thee my prophet to go now. Go out to your friends and family. Show them what I cannot, for I am surprised my Father and Mother have let me get this far. To end your mortal speech is a whole different type of power, one that they would need the consensus of all of the gods in the holy court to enforce.”
Justice nodded, but voiced his question and worry then:
“Would it not be easy for them to come to an agreement my lord? For they are likeminded in even your banishment, may they be accursed for that unrighteousness.”
Acirema smiled, for he saw what the mortal said as true, but there was a single thing that he knew was wrong in the reasoning of him. “Woe be to those above my disciple, for as I said, it would require all the gods. They may have taken my authority over the Earth, but they can not unmake me. God as I was, god still I am, and I will never agree to their treachery.”
So Justice went out, arriving in the lands of his people. They greeted him with happiness, but were thus confused at his view of their lives. When he spoke of his life on the mountain his own family cast him out and were ashamed of him. To speak against the gods was unheard of, and they would not listen. Doors were closed, but this stopped him little. The prophet stood in the marketplace, he spoke of the Eagle, and of the blindness the others lived in. The gods gathered together in Heavan’s courts saying, “What can we do to silence this mortal? We would have to call upon our broken brother, and he would refuse us still.” So they spoke, and thought hard.
Justice continued in his ways, and now some stopped to listen to his words, and question with sincerity. Those who stayed started to believe, and as that number grew, so did the power of Acirema. The more who believed in his existence and his teachings, the more restored his power would be.
Seeing this, the King of gods, his own father, called down to him saying:
“My son, how dare you question the authority of those above. We art most exalted, and yet you try to usurp us such!? What say you!?”
Acirema gathered himself into a dangerous wrath, and threw forth the cry of the Eagle before responding. “Is it but my duty to question the will of my Father and his before him? Am I not the scorned son? The embarrassment? Hold fast father, for my deeds are all but done and just as the weak child calls out in the night for his needs, so shall I keep calling until I receive my just reward.” A great storm fell across the mountain then, sheets of battering rain pummeled the earth and stone. Acirema fled into the wilderness, leaving the precipice for the first time in many years. He called back as he flew saying, “In the end I shall have my will and way, and the foolish ones you surround yourself with shall bow to me father.”
Months turned into years, and every day another storm crashed down upon Acirema where he was. The Eagle outran them all, calling out in mockery to those who caste them. For every single man who believed in Acirema, the weaker the gods above became, until finally it was time for a challenge. After so many years, many upon the Earth trusted in the god of Freedom, and the opposite was viewed towards those in the Heavenly Courts. So, the king of the gods came down in the form of a man, and gathered all who still believed in him and his fellow deities to him in a massive conclave. He spoke of Acirema as a usurper, and a false god, making it out so that he was an evil spirit here to take their lives away.
Justice, who hid behind a great stone and listened to the speech, hurried away to find his master. The prophet after many years knew that the Eagle would want to hear the rage that his father had built up in the other people. When he spoke to him Acirema cried out mournfully, for he kenw his father had found a way to be rid of him. Only by mortal hands could his life be ended, and now all but few of the hunters and warriors would be after him. He flew long and far until he arrived once again at his original mountain home. He found the whole sumit crumbled and scattered for miles in every direction.
The banished god wept, and his tears brought the pity of his mother up on high. She was the one who had not given up on him, but for fear of his father, and she snuck out of Heavan’s gates that night and came down to him in the form of a dove. When he saw her he drew himself up in attention. Her voice was soft and sweet on his ears as she comforted him saying, “Come my son, it is not to be over just yet. I see now the true cruelty with which my husband has treated you and your own with. It was but I who stayed his hand thus far, but now it shall be to late for you.”
At these words Acirema shook his head. “Nay, my father has forgotten one ancient right of mine, instilled by your own father at my birth.” The queen of the gods shook her head fervently quoting what she knew was her son’s thoughts fearfully:
“When the world is all in strife and the race of man spills it’s lifeblood across all the lands, then the Eagle shall regain his power to end the suffering, for none but he understands the plight of the mortal race.” Acirema’s mother finished the prophecy tearfully, but no words would persuade her son that such a thing was wrong.
“Oh mother of mine, who is queen of gods and beauty, learn this now in my presence. The life I have lived has been a hard one, but I know that those on this Earth want to be free. I feel it in my bones, and in the air we breathe. They must go to war now, my people against those of my father, and in the pinnacle of the bloodshed shall I have my strength restored.” He shook his head, knowing the weight of his words.
His mother fled then, hiding in her chambers high above and refusing to see anyone but her personal servants. The Eagle called forth his people, just as his father had, and gave unto them the knowledge to create weapons of war. Long metal blades, and heavy shields. They knew his purpose, and went out then in a serious mood to wage his war.
Years passed, and still none knew what the outcome of the brutal warfare would be. Justice led the armies of his lord, and he won many battles. Whole rivers of blood flowed behind the armies of the free, for none could withstand the will of them in their beliefs. Acirema watched them in their conquest, gaining strength every day. Whenever asked of the prophecy, he would answer, “It shall soon be fulfilled.”
Into the winter of the twelfth year, a massive battle was fought in which all of the gods of the heavenly court stood about in sudden fear and worry. This was to be the one; they could see it in the signs sketched throughout the universe. Many fled then, going to different corners of all creation. The king of the gods then huddled down on his throne, watching as Justice raised the flag of freedom, which bore the vicious symbol of the rattlesnake, over the bodies of the fallen.
Acirema then was at his full power once more. He took his true form, a strong man with flowing locks and a beard. Those who served him saw the fierceness in his gaze and the freedom in his movements then, and praised him saying, “All but you are unworthy of our prayers!”
The god of freedom went into the heavenly courts, leaving Justice behind to rule in his stead, as he faced down his father. The other, older and weaker then he once was because of the deaths of his subjects, looked upon him with great fear.
“What is to become of me, oh snake?” He hissed as he spat at the feet of his son.
Acirema caste him to the ground then, and toppled his throne crying, “Oh but I, Acirema, and to be a snake unto you? I who was forced out of his own house because I was not in the mind to bow so low that I would be breathing dirt? Nay, it is to be you who is a snake.” With that Acirema cursed his father, and the serpent, to be symbols of cowardice and evil throughout all the mortal lands.
Then, the god of freedom gathered all of the other deities to him saying, “I shall divide the lands of earth, and split them with great oceans of water, and each of us shall govern but one. Mine shall be the land of the free, and it shall be the greatest of them all.” At his words the great continent of Plataea was split, and the oceans and seas were formed. The peoples were divided, and the other gods thanked him for his mercy.
The Eagle then viewed his work in his return, and found it just.
The race of man was free.