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A Dream
September 18th
Marco is no stranger to dreams of gods and angels. They happened every so often back home - quite often for the first few weeks after he became a murderer. God, or his angels, came down to Earth to punish him for his sins. Sometimes he begged for forgiveness before accepting his fate; other times, he simply let himself be dragged down to Hell.
This time, it's different.
He sees a light. It doesn't feel threatening, or even harsh. It doesn't feel warm, either, but then again, he supposes it's too distant for that. Somehow, he knows he's dreaming.
Then, he hears the voice of the Fourth God.
Marco nods. It's true, his actions today ought to be blamed on the Fog God.
(But then again, is it not still his fault? Is the Fog God not doing this to him because of the crimes he's committed? Marco doesn't voice his thoughts, though he's sure the Fourth God is privy to them.)
He nods again, listening to the Fourth God's words. Yes, the Fog God hurts men and women and children and sinners and saints alike, one way or another. She creates monsters, and the monsters hunt humans, and no good comes of it. It's as simple as that.
And yes, Marco nods once more, he wants to put a stop to everything. He wants to go home, too, but that alone won't leave him at peace. He has to help. He has to do something.
So--
He stops nodding.
Does he want to join the Fourth God?
Marco never had much time to, say, attend church or that sort of thing back home. But he's still religious. He still believes in God. Worshipping another one strikes him as a pretty sinful thing. He needs to think. Think. Think of what he knows about this god, and Liewen, and...
Right. Yes. He was human once. A human child, right?
If he thinks about it that way, then is he really worshipping another god? Isn't he just helping someone in need?
Marco nods. What harm could there be in this? And isn't this what he has been wanting to do, anyway?
He reaches out to the light. Its warmth envelops him, and it occurs to him maybe, just maybe, this is even more right than he suspects; maybe the Fourth God is just a messenger; maybe this is precisely what he needs to do to redeem himself.
He smiles, and his hand grasps the card. Marco knows he's dreaming. Marco knows this is a sign.
Marco is no stranger to dreams of gods and angels. They happened every so often back home - quite often for the first few weeks after he became a murderer. God, or his angels, came down to Earth to punish him for his sins. Sometimes he begged for forgiveness before accepting his fate; other times, he simply let himself be dragged down to Hell.
This time, it's different.
He sees a light. It doesn't feel threatening, or even harsh. It doesn't feel warm, either, but then again, he supposes it's too distant for that. Somehow, he knows he's dreaming.
Then, he hears the voice of the Fourth God.
Marco nods. It's true, his actions today ought to be blamed on the Fog God.
(But then again, is it not still his fault? Is the Fog God not doing this to him because of the crimes he's committed? Marco doesn't voice his thoughts, though he's sure the Fourth God is privy to them.)
He nods again, listening to the Fourth God's words. Yes, the Fog God hurts men and women and children and sinners and saints alike, one way or another. She creates monsters, and the monsters hunt humans, and no good comes of it. It's as simple as that.
And yes, Marco nods once more, he wants to put a stop to everything. He wants to go home, too, but that alone won't leave him at peace. He has to help. He has to do something.
So--
He stops nodding.
Does he want to join the Fourth God?
Marco never had much time to, say, attend church or that sort of thing back home. But he's still religious. He still believes in God. Worshipping another one strikes him as a pretty sinful thing. He needs to think. Think. Think of what he knows about this god, and Liewen, and...
Right. Yes. He was human once. A human child, right?
If he thinks about it that way, then is he really worshipping another god? Isn't he just helping someone in need?
Marco nods. What harm could there be in this? And isn't this what he has been wanting to do, anyway?
He reaches out to the light. Its warmth envelops him, and it occurs to him maybe, just maybe, this is even more right than he suspects; maybe the Fourth God is just a messenger; maybe this is precisely what he needs to do to redeem himself.
He smiles, and his hand grasps the card. Marco knows he's dreaming. Marco knows this is a sign.