The Man of God

I want to write the next part of the Wanderer story, but until then here's a short one I writ a while back. My thoughts on what would drive a man to become a terrible being; Love, of course. Here is my short story:


In the 12th Century there was a man whose good nature was unquestioned. He was a believer of Christianity, and he served the Church in order to spread his Faith and combat heresies and Injustices.

He became a man of great renown and skill, and he always used his advantages to help others. As is always with the goodly heroes of this type of origin, during his travels he came across a beautiful girl who he fell in love with, and married.

Even though happily married, the union sanctified in the eyes of the Church, the man faithful to God went to fight in His name; to fight for justice, peace, and other goodly ideals across England.

He was sent off to Europe, away from home, to continue the quest of spreading the Holy word to other countries.

While he was gone, however, his loving wife heard word of his death and, stricken with grief, she chose to end her own life rather than live without him.

When the man returned from his ordeal to find his wife gone from this world, he, too, was stricken with grief. However, with his faith, he decided to live out the rest of his life in service to his religion, comforted in the belief that upon his eventual death he would be reunited with his loved one in Heaven.


And so, one day, after a long and goodly life, he died of old age and was rewarded with eternal paradise. He was given everything he could ever want; except for her.

By taking her own life she had sinned, and because of her sin she had been condemned to Hell. So, even though he had lived his life for God, he was not given his Love.

Religion is one of the most powerful driving forces for men, especially this man. However, one thing that sometimes rules a man’s heart above religion is Love. The man was powerless to do anything though. When it comes to God and His Justice we can simply learn, understand, and obey. We cannot change what is Good. He had no way to bring his beloved to Heaven, for by taking her own life she had defied God and committed a heresy. The one thing a man will always have power over, however, is his own soul. And so, in an effort to be reunited, the goodly man filled his soul with darkness and his mind will evil thoughts.

He filled himself with Lust, Greed, Gluttony, Sloth, Envy, Pride and Wrath. Even though he had already been admitted to heaven his soul became a curse upon it, and so he was cast out into damnation. He descended to the hells; as he had wanted.

Once again, however, even though Man has power over his own soul, he has no power when it comes to God and the Devil, to Heaven and to Hell.

The Devil was indeed joyful at his luck to be given such a tormented soul. And, even though Man and Wife were both in Hell, the Devil kept them apart; torturing them with their never ending search for each other.

The Wanderer

This is a fun little project that I really need to get back to. I wanted to try a diary-like presentation of a story. I'll post the next parts shortly:

September 4^th, 1478

I decided to, before continuing my travels, visit the tombs of my Father and Brother.  I traveled to Baltani, where my father was rumoured to have died near, and constructed a proper burial for him, although I could not find his body. Even that conniving fool, who used the beliefs of apparently himself and for definite others merely for his own gain, I still held some sentiment towards.

I then visited my older brother’s tomb. It took me a while, and a lot of researching and prying, but I finally found his tomb in Târgoviște. What a nostalgic location for his death. It brought back memories of a better time, when I used to live there with my younger brother. Strange, then, that it is my older brother I find there now. I was almost horrified when I found his remains. There were scratch marks on the walls of the tomb he had been buried in, and the bones of his fingers were worn to such a degree…. It was obvious he had been put in here…. Alive. It shocked me, to be sure, but it wasn't so mortifying after the massacres and tortures I myself have inflicted upon people. Some would even call me a monster; and to that statement, many have. Besides, that unworthy bastard always received the luck and advantages in life that I was so deprived. I had to make myself what he was given.

There was no need to visit my younger brother. I already knew what had become of him.

Midgard

So.... first post. I'm going to post many short stories and introductions to large stories here to practice and see how they are received. I may also post some pictures and drawings. Anyways, onto the first story introduction. This is one I writ for an idea I have for a story set in a futuristic world, possibly based on Norse mythology:

It was the thirtieth day of the month. This meant that, in his village, all could see the remarkable monthly phenomenon up above.

As is usual for the night, there were numerous lights that lit up the sky like stars. The giant construct that held these lights could also be seen. But, as is only seen once a month, the spectacle at the end of this miraculous construct was also visible.

There it was, up above, like a silent protector. The giant serpent’s head that glowed magnificently like the mythical moon. Lights shone down from it, and ran down the body trailing behind it, which everyone knew wrapped around the earth.

The giant mechanism was a sign to all that they were safe, despite the sun having died a long time ago. The mechanical serpent wrapped around the earth and heated it, protecting everyone from space that surrounded them, threatening to rush in and destroy their world.