Telling of a Story

An old storyteller gets paid to tell the history of the city

The old blind man tapped his staff along the cobblestone streets as he made his way from the small shack, he called home to his spot in the market.   His belly rumbled slightly from hunger, but it was nothing new to him and he ignored it as he did with all the aches and pains of his age.  He spread his blanket on the ground and squatted on it, his tin cup by his right knee and his staff leaning against his left shoulder.  It was still early, and the crowds wouldn’t start to form for a few hours, but if he moved, another may take his spot so he sat still and waited.

 

Cadeyrn Jodocus raced ahead of his friends towards the market.  He had gotten a few coins from a sailor down by the docks.  He had already spent most on food, but he had saved a single coin for old Bradan in the market.  He loved listening to the old man’s stories and dreamed of one day being a storyteller himself.  He would become so good that the Gods would come to see him.

He skidded to a stop in front of the old man and looked around.  The stalls of the market were just being set up, but the old man was already in his place.  Flipping the coin into the air he waited for his friends to arrive.

“You are blocking the sun young man which this old man would thank you for if you weren’t also blocking any who wished to pay me for a story.”

“I want a story, old man.”

“An old man can’t tell stories with a dry throat.”

“Me and my friends will get you water.”

“Ah so you will work for the story, then I will tell you of the story of the Smith and the Assassin.”

“I don’t want to hear that one.”

“But supplying water to an old man only earns you the right to hear the story not to choose it.”

“I have a coin.”

“A street boy like you has coin,” the old man laughed.  “Who did you and your friends rob for the coin boy?”

“We robbed no one.”

“So, you have taken to selling yourselves.”

Cadeyrn spit.  “That is foul old man.  I earned it, worked hard for it and now I wish the story of my choosing.”

“Coin and water first then we will discuss the story,”  Bradan stated as Cadeyrn’s friends arrived gasping for breath.

“That isn’t how it works old man, water then a story and the coin only if we enjoy the story.”

“That is true, boy.  Get my water and we can discuss which story you wish.”

Cadeyrn sent one of his friends to get water from the nearby well.  “I want the story of the city.   I want to hear the story of Karkarmach old man.”

“That story boy, are you sure, it has no heroes or adventurers in it.”

“I am sure,” Cadeyrn said as his friends groaned and begged for another story.

“It is my coin, so I choose.”

Bradan wet his throat with the water and got comfortable.  It had been a long time since he had told this particular story.  Most wanted stories of adventure filled with heroes and danger, a few asked for stories of romance, but none for a long time wanted a story that told the history of a place.

“To tell this story properly we have to go back, way back to a time before mortals even existed, even before the time of the Gods.  In the beginning, there was the void empty and endless where nothing existed and then into and from it Bogdar the All Encompassing was formed.  He was happy at first, but then he became bored and lonely.  He tried his hand at creation, first creating the Heavens, but this made him even lonelier since now he could not only sense but see he was all alone in the void.

Drawing on his immense power he created the first of the Gods and Goddesses and imbued them each with a portion of his immense power.  These new beings made him happy and he enjoyed watching them play and work for hours on end.  He allowed these new beings free rein on what they would do with their power only demanding they never create life themselves.

The first deities had children and those children grow and children of their own filling the Heavens with life.  To them life was new and exciting, everything was an adventure.  They played and worked hard enjoying all that life had to offer, but they were immortal and in time became bored with their lives.  They finally sought the diversion that Bogdar had sought.  The creation of life, but they only had a fraction of Bogdar’s power and each only a piece of his skill and knowledge.

They made many mistakes in their attempts at creating life, but finally, after much time they created this world and all that is in it.  Things were once again new and exciting for them as they watched us mortals go about our lives.  They visited this world and inspired man to worship them as the Gods and Goddesses they are.  But in time they became jealous of each other, each wanting more worshipers and devotion.  They had their faithful march to war against each other seeking to destroy the followers of the others.

The fights and arguments spilled into the Heavens and they fought each other.  Bogdar had silently watched all this.  He had watched over their shoulders as they created the world and all the life in it and he felt pride.  As they gained worshipers and fought, he felt disappointment in them, but as the fighting moved into the Heavens he had enough.  In a fit of anger and rage he banished them to this plane, forbidding them to ever return to the Heavens above.

Even being banished didn’t stop the fight, but only intensified it.  Trapped on this plane with their Godly abilities they continued to fight.  But then they stopped to catch their breaths and looking around they saw the destruction they had wrought on their creation.  The world burned around them, and we mortals hide from them, fearing their might and power.  They called a council on the shores of a great ocean by the banks of a mighty river the Gods and Goddesses meet.  They agreed to put aside their differences and fix all the destruction they had inflicted on the world.  So, none would delay in this task they imposed a deadline of a year and a day.  All were to return to that spot at that time.

When the time was up all but one had returned.  A powerful God, one of the first had not returned.  They had all kept their godly powers and immortality, so none could think of why he wouldn’t or couldn’t return.  A great argument broke out each accusing the others of some foul deceitful trick.  Just when blows were about to be struck the missing God appeared.  He was beaten as if he had been in a great battle.  His wounds refused to heal even when treated by the greatest of the Gods and Goddesses of healing.  He could barely speak from the pain he was in, but he related his tale and how he had met a woman of immense beauty.  She had transported him to her castle, and he had forgotten his mission only seeing her, loving her like he had loved none before.  But as the time of the meeting grew close, he awoke for his dream state and tried to leave.  She attacked him, and he fought back at first only attempting to defend himself, but soon trying to vanquish this woman.  He could not beat her and fled.  Lost he wandered for many days until he found himself here again.

With his story told the God collapsed into a deep death-like sleep.  The others felt fear seeing one of their own, one of the most powerful of them brought low by an enemy they didn’t know.  They had wanted to go out into the world and explore to live among the mortals, but now none dared to travel alone.  They decided to raise a city on that spot, a city for them to live in.  So, with their most powerful magic, they drew forth from the very ground a great city and a wall to defend it.  They built a great tomb under it and laid their fallen brother to rest in it even though he was not truly dead.  In time we mortals came to investigate this great golden city with the white wall.  Some stayed building a city around Karkarmach the City of Gods.  In time the outer city took the name of the inner city and all became known as Karkarmach.

 

As the old man finished the tale, the boy tossed the coin into the tin cup.  A few other coins joined it and the old man allowed himself a smile, he would eat tonight.

“Tell us of the Sleeping God,” one of the boy’s companions yelled!

“No, tell us of the Demon Queen,” another shouted his request!

“For a single coin, I would tell either of those stories.”

The blind old man couldn’t see it, but he pictured it as the boys looked around hoping to find someone to beg a coin from.  The crowd that had formed as he had told his story drifted off, but he wasn’t worried someone else would come to hear a story.

Cadeyrn watched his friends try to beg for a coin for another story as he went and sat in the shadows by the old storyteller.  He wanted to hear another story, one he hadn’t memorized already, but he was too tired to beg for a coin, so he would wait and hope someone would request one for him.

Author's Note

I know the story being told needs work and is one of the things I'm working on rewriting.