The defenses of this small city were considerable. The red saints near century long campaign against the Frenchman had culminated in this. For days his army of celestials clashed with his army of demons. The saint sat in his chair reviewing the vega looking for something to tip the balance.
A courier arrived at that moment with a package. He spoke, "I know the solution and carry it here." Then the courier placed an ornate book at the saints feet and all but fled.
The saint lifted the book and scanned its cover learning its title, "the ballad of kale"
The saint placed the book down and nearly snorted in disgust. What need have I for the gods? Does not my understanding of justice surpass theirs? Have I not found ways to emulate their power and enlist their angels? Have not their angels left their service for mine? Have not I gained my own immortality? Do I not sit in judgement of lesser mortals? What need have I of gods when I surpass them?
No comments:
Post a Comment