Doth speaketh dearest one? How fares thee?

This one does not fare well, for I have been shamed.

Shamed? Thy troubles share with me. Upon my shoulders, shed thy weight.

The one I loved has spurned me.  She has turned away from my house and shares in another’s love. Despite my kindness and devotion, she dreads my being. If only I had known before I fell for her that she would tread so heavily upon my heart. And now, our matrimony freshly old, she has turned to another man and brought dishonour upon my house.

Fret not, dear one. No wrath shall she know like mine own. Upon her house will diseases spread and eat out all health and material. Locusts, like locusts shall they be, that bite and sting at flesh. And she shall be left alone, her name eaten like cloth by moths. Her youth shall dry and wrinkle for the wickedness in her heart will show upon her face so that all who remain to love her will despair and turn away. Cry no more, dear one.

 

Thou spake. Of what dost thou call for?

I am sorry but I have disgraced your names. I brought failure to your graceful feet.

Thy troubles, little one, thy troubles lay heavy upon you. Share them and I will ease thy burden.

Yes. My troubles. I shrink by your greatness and in your name I’ve slain men by dozens. When I called, you gave me strength.

Yes. Faithful thine heart doth memory serve justly.

At battle with our tough enemy, we were victorious. Glory reigned as your greatness served us. But soon, as the battle was won, my soldiers turned upon me. Loyal men at my command were slain and the victory taken from my grasp. At their forefront a man I once called my friend; Callistus, a fearless warrior I trusted to lead armies with me, now, he is a traitor. Many good men lay dead on the battlefield because of him. But I am ashamed. In triumph did I call out your greatness, in glory, yet I was defeated, forced to retreat from battle having uttered your glorious names.

Fear not, little one. Be still as all things shall be just. Within my breast doth thy comrades rest, as must all warriors. For these traitor’s names, utter no more. From all knowledge their names shall dissipate, out of the ages their deeds disappear, and any remembrances of their fortunes fade. Disaster shall strike thine enemy; storms and plagues ravage their marches; their wives and daughter’s valor be stolen by vagabonds. This is the wrath for treacherous men.

 

Yes, close one. Thou art before me. What layeth in thine heart?

My heart sings for thee. Dearest ones, I am plagued by strife.  Rivals take profit from my pocket and do bad business to drive away my company.

Speak now, close one. Let me the secrets of thine breath.

We were within merriment at houses of ale and wine; merchants and guilds meeting, food and coin gained and lost between palms. One such merchant and I became close and agreed to share in the secrets of each other’s wealth. But it was only later that I learned he had stolen my craft and sold at lower amount to harm my trade. He intends to drive me from town as to become the sole craftsman of the place.

Fear not. For even as thou spake the covetous snakes of gold and bronze slither away from his stalls. His profit shall shrink like fruits in the sun and his product wither into dust. On the streets, he shall beg, but even the kindest will turn away their hearts. He will starve and die and his corpse shall become a home for flies and maggots. This is his fate.

 

Who hath come this time? A face unfamiliar is it.

I am but a humble traveler come in search of answers. For years I have wandered the land taking in foreign tales and glimpses of strange traditions. Over this journey, I have come to know you. Through tales of your deeds by those loyal to your worship or from those that warn against your wrath, within each believer I saw both fear and respect like I have never seen before. So, I have made my journey to you this day to inquire for my desire.

And, youngling, which desire rests upon thy words?

On my journey, I heard tales quite strange to me.

I come from Ennismuth with stories of a woman, a lover and wife, whose beauty mysteriously turned to vileness. Her once good house burned like paper to fire. She died; alone and homeless. Many know her tale there, a memory that has not yet passed into darkness and perhaps never will.

At Castinople, I learned the fate a traitorous general met some time ago. However, the citizens there have largely forgotten this tale. The dire struggle for the city has long been lost too. Though search I tried I could not find anything more, not even where the corpse of the warrior was buried. And his men, they seemed to have scattered like bugs to the wind, nestled in some dark place to die.

And when I came to a small town in the desert, I met an old hag at the town center who told me of a merchant’s fate still whispered through still night breath. Of those that knew him before and after his fall none was sure about the circumstance of his death, but remembered vividly the image of his corpse. They say it was a bloated mass of wet meat whose vileness was so great it was only after the sun had dried the body into a tough husk did they move it from the market square.

I have come all this way not to ask you for favor, but to ask a question.

For that, you may ask.

I asked myself how these things could be. It was you, no doubt the answer concludes. These are all ends met by design. The ones who wished it had reason enough. It is not justification I seek for their reasons are their own. But none who wished got what they intended, I expect. For, what I know is not that of a vengeful god, but one of wrath. The question that bites at me is this: Why listen to these people? You do not fix problems but destroy them. Why, then, grant anything at all? What reason can a god have for giving his people the wrath they deserve?

All can gain from something. From rats to kings. What they gain is what is valued and what they gain is what I desire. Thus it is so. One asks for something one must give in return. And they have given to me what they have asked.

If I may, what have they given you?

One may ask.

The simplest of all things. Each left circumstance with life and had life only left to offer. They are with me now. That is the trade.

I am confused. If I may ask but one more question.

Thou mayst ask many more questions.

Is it fair to take from them in such dire moments? Would they trade if they knew they were trading? Would they make the trade if they knew what they were trading?

At all times one is trading yet doth not know it. For the items being traded, it matters none for all are meaningless unless one seeks them. Of nature, that is the order. Thou hast sought answers and traded thy time and effort to gain them. I was presented with questions and accepted the trade to ease them. Now comes time to take what is owed. Ponder this, youngling. What doth thee think I want in return?