Lunanti

I found myself in a strange land. I was alone, in the middle of a road. The ground had been beaten to dust by the countless feet of men and horses. To my left was forest, and to my right stretched a vast, golden wheat field. Among the wheat, not too far off, had been erected an arch made of crudely-hewn wooden beams. The structure was not very impressive; it stood no higher than my neck. Yet, I knew it had been constructed with an earnestness that told of its sacred duty. It was a tribute to the local god, a god of agriculture. A god of harvest, peace and light. I approached the construction; I stood before it and considered it. “What kind of god do these people devote this to?” I asked. “What kind of god has only wheat and peace to offer? A weak god, surely; a god of farmers and cowards. A useless god.” As I stood before the wooden thing, there appeared a figure beside me. He was clothed in pure white, fair and beautiful. His head was adorned with short, golden curls.

“Who are you, to question me?” he said. “What can you provide? Nothing. You are not fit to judge me, nor my people. I provide light, bread, warmth. I provide all they need. There is no better god to care for a people than me.” He continued to talk in this way, telling of his power and ability, until a second figure appeared. Along the treeline which surrounded the wheat field, there appeared the form of a woman, dark and terrible. Her beauty was that of the raven, or the night itself. She wore all black, and her skin was of such a dense darkness that no light played upon her features. The upper portion of her face was an intense blue, the color of woad. She was fearsome to behold, yet I believed her to be most beautiful. She only showed herself for an instant, and was gone. Yet it was long enough to stop the speech of the god. He had caught sight of her and was rendered silent. I could see he was stricken with fear.

I had gone on my way, down the road. I stopped to sup at an encampment I came to, a small stockade on the countryside. I sat at a wooden table, eating my bread. The land stretched out before me; in the distance I could see the warriors preparing for battle. To my right, a large pen contained all the animals: swine, horses, dogs and cattle. I watched as I ate. Presently, I became aware of a form beside me. The god I met earlier sat close by me. He was angry about the trick played on him. “Without me, there would be no bread for you to eat,” he told me. He wanted to convince me of his power, of his worth. He wished me to believe he was the most powerful and worthy of worship. “What power could you possibly have?” he challenged me. He looked at me, and for an instant my face took on the appearance of the dark goddess. He became startled, but he continued to challenge me, asking what power I had. I decided to show him.

I stood, and made a grasping motion with my hand. All the animals before us began to writhe in pain, wailing and crying out as had never been heard before. They kicked and bit at each other in their agony. The god looked uneasy, but he did not seem impressed. I uttered the word, “die.” Soundlessly, they all collapsed to the ground. They did not stir. The pen was littered with the bodies of the animals. “What good is that?” the god asked me, though he had gone pale. I stretched out my arms, and the dead animals all rose up again. They broke out from the pen and rushed at the warriors, and a battle between man and beast broke out. My body became as a great raven, I flew over the scene and chose the men who fell. The god of light was speechless and horrified.