She is a bitch, pretty much."
- Annor Welraen, Scholar, 72 ABTP.
I admire my parents. They were always pious people, committed to the Temple.
Eventhough the Kingdom is at war with Siblion Valley to avenge our dead King Elruud Teleane, Rolinbragh isn't much different from what it used to be. We are sure to hear some war cries behind the Heights of Lyca'nus, but we are living our usual, everyday lives. My father carries on praying at the Temple every end-day of the week and attended to seasonal ceremonies at the end of every nìen. I remember the first day I attended to those prayers with him, but that I will speak about later.
My father was a fylla. He was from the depths of forests of Midland Ossax, a village closeby to N'ya City. When he moved to N'ya to learn politics and diplomacy, he was relatively young. He worked in N'ya for many years, then they relocated him to Queendom of Wundh. He was then moved to Giuio to the Frozen North. Eventually he was relocated to Dwese, where he met my mother.
As you can presume, my mother is an eila. She is originally from Guern-Vent, she was born there when the Island was an independent realm. With the War emerged there, she moved to Kith'lath. With the civil war emerged there some years later, she fled to Dwese; where she eventually settled and lived for some years.
My mother could not study; either in a Khia or in an Academy. She never had the environment and the chance, for her youth was never stable; she had to move elsewhere forcefully all the time until the time she settled in Dwese.
When my parents met, Ulban Teleane was planning to start the reconstruction of burnt-down Rolinbragh. Good times, I presume.
Long story short, they met and fell inlove; lived in Dwese for about thirty years until my father was eventually relocated to the newly built Rolinbragh as the N'yaian Ambassador. Then, I was born.
My father always worshipped Gosto He'uch like the rest of the N'yaian Society, when my mother was a Lyca'naen. It is not a heritage though, for her Guern-Ventese parents were Dol'sharoc worshippers. I didn't know she was converted. N'yaian prayer customs and Lyca'naen customs are pretty much alike, so they only visited the Temple on end-days of the weeks. They had seperate altars for all the recognized beliefs in the Kingdom, my father always took Gosto He'uch's, when my mother was praying at the biggest altar at the Temple. My father was content, cold-blooded and scheduled as every other fylla; but I have watched my mom somehow get older and older everyday in front of that altar. She was in pain, just like a sinner. She was begging for mercy in her motions. She grew gray hair in one-two years, at the age of fourty three. She lost a lot of weight.
Eventually, she died of despair. My father showed no signs of sorrow at her day of death. He looked like he was expecting it, and he sort of had this expression resembling "something I expected just happened" satisfaction. He just carried on praying. My mother was, just like every Lyca'naen, cremated.
When I was thiry-six, at her death anniversary, I visited my mother's shrine at the Rolinbrag'hyxnar, the big City Graveyard. My father never visited the shrine, and I never questioned him. But at that day, I have seen him there. Crying, in front of her shrine, speaking in fyllian. That was the first time I have seen my father cry - pretty much the first time I have seen any fylla cry, actually. I slowly walked closer, and as he was weeping, I touched his shoulder. He was over one hundred and fifty years old, but he still looked younger than me.
"I have seen the Gods," he said. "I have seen them. I have seen how they have forced your mother to fade away."
I have to admit, that sentence did not make any sense to me. I was confused.
"What, how?" I could say. Then he told me the true story about my mother.
She was one of the few tribal worshippers of both Iara Enàa and Marvyll Dengraid in Ollgaer Plains, Soutern Wundh. One day, one of her sisters sinned in the eyes of Marvyll Dengraid, Wundhian Goddess; for she fell in love with a Wundhian man. Wundh was and still is a very strict and despotic Matriarchy, and they only see men as sex objects who they can fornicate. The entire aim is to enjoy sex and give birth to strong, healthy Wundhian women. Then, most of the time, the fornicated men is slain and cremated. Anyway, let me tell you the story now.
My mother's sister, after one of the countless fornications she have had with a prostitute in their town, left the Graen'dolas (the Public House in Wundhian dialect) to go back home. It was, according to what my mother had heard from her sister, a cloudy night. As she walked, she felt heavier, somehow happier. She realized that she somehow was focusing on that guy she just had sex with, and the more she focused; the more she was happy. This was an entirely new feeling for her, and just like every new feeling felt for the first time, it makes one uneasy. That is how she felt, too. It somehow resembled falling in love with a woman - but hell no, why feel the same things for a man? It didn't make sense. She had to stop, because she realized her heart was beating like mad. She sat on some bench.
"This is Love to a male, my child," said a soft, incredibly soothing voice. Then she saw a blinding green light in front of her.
"Who or what are you?" my aunt could ask, grabbing her small axe.
"You cannot harm me, Schael," she said. "I am here to guide you. I am here to explain you what you feel. What you feel is Love, you are just aware of it. You are in love with a man."
"It is a sin, witch," said my aunt. "We Wundhian do not fall in Love with petty males, and slay the ones who do so."
"Ignore it all you want, may you realize the beauty of your feelings soon. You are now-"
"CURSED!" yelled another woman, unlike the first voice, it was tough and furious. "Iara Enàa, my Mother, stop poisoning my brethren! Take your Love and leave this realm!"
With the witnessing of Marvyll Dengraid herself, my aunt was immediately convicted of falling in love with a male and executed shortly. With this low reputation, my mother's family could not stay there much longer and left Ollgaer.
With the death of her one and only sister, my mother started questioning the ways of Wundhian Matriarchy. After a while, she realized that falling in love with males did not seem any more absurd that falling in love with females. She even made a valid connection between sex and love in her mind, for sex required an attraction in any case. She always found the male body attractive, but she never thought she could actually think of 'liking' it. It was a tool. A fun, pleasant tool. That's all.
As she grew older in Arthea, a coastal city in southwestern Wundh; she wrote articles about love and sex. She tried to publish them, but she never revealed her name for she knew she would be immediately slain if she did so. She managed to publish them somehow, with a fake name, and her theories of love roamed the streets of Arthea. She was known by the name Maryv Aarhus.
One night, Marvyll Dengraid appeared to her in her dream.
"Infidel," the Goddess spoke. "Infidel, you shall pay for it!"
She woke up from her nightmare, she immediately left Arthea and took the first boat to Guern-Vent. She was literally attempting to run away from a Goddess. She somehow made it. She lived in Guern-Vent, she managed to survive there. Everything I told after that was true. Kith'lath, Dwese, my father, Rolinbragh... Somehow apparently, her curse followed her all those years into Rolinbragh, when she eventually started praying. Lyca'nae Verd was furious at her for abandoning and running away from her true Goddess, no matter how untrue Marvyll Dengraid's ways seemed to my mother.
Then I have realized that my mother was trying so hard to convince the Gods to forgive her. Just because she opposed to an idea, and just because she wanted to be able to justify how love should exist.
Lyca'nae Verd is known as the most merciless God. Eventhough he thought my mother was right in idea, just because she opposed to a God she was created for, he punished her for life. My mother died trying.
I am at the age of 100 now, and that is a remarkable age for a half-fylla. Being half-Wundhian and half-fyllian, I possess a perfect physical strength, especially for the other women I see around. I have seen many things, many men in the past - no matter how you forge your self in idea, being of Wundhian blood forces you to have sex emotionlessly and you automatically avoid falling in love somehow. Yet, I have fallen in love with a man. Weaker, thinner and shorter than I am. That little man is the reason why I am not a Wundhian woman anymore.
I am Gaon Rea.. and I am never going to go to pray again.
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