Author's Note: This one is kind of like the awkward "middle child" of what I've done so far. Personally, I'm a bit proud of it. But not TOO proud. It's a weird one, I guess. ;]
By Deanna CoultonTheme: Greed (duhhh)Word Count: 1,200
There was once life inside the thick mass that made up Tranquil Grove.
The most peaceful beings to exist were the humans that made their home in the vast forest. Differences were distant in the hearts of these people, for they each held a trust in one another that could only be born from the ashes of mutual persecution.
But there would come a time when lasting peace would only breed naivete.
It had been years since an outsider made his way through the forest and into the village – where he was surely greeted by warm smiles. The man himself did not bear the face of one who could be trusted, but the people of the Grove did not pass judgment on him. Instead, they cared for the weary man and showed him the route to exit the woods when the time called for him to take his leave.
Years later, the man would return once more after a great terror had struck the entirety of the forest: people were dying, and no one knew why.
Fortunately, this man had an answer...but it came with quite a literal price.
“It's the water,” bellowed the familiar voice. It did not take long for the villagers to recognize that he had gained quite a bit of weight since they last saw the man. However, his statement about the water had confused them even more than his gain in mass.
Upon further inquiry, he elaborated that an estimated ninety-percent of the world's water was being tainted by some foul poison. There was but one true cure: the power of a magi. Luckily, this man was such a being that could cleanse the water of all harmful toxins. He even drank a glass before the awing crowd to display the safety of his gift.
Of course, using such magical power would be quite burdening, so the man decided that a price would have to be set.
Four years had passed since the magi had arrived and used his powers to purify the sacred life source. His belly had grown larger, which was quite displayed as he rested himself upon the finest seat in the finest house the village had to offer. Each day, the people would come with coins and a bucket of the defiled liquid and watch in amazement as he restored it to grandeur. Of course, the amazement soon ran out as the man's gift drained their pockets.
It didn't take long for this man to be scorned and dubbed with the nickname “Miser”. No one quite knew any other name for him, nor cared to find one.
Eventually, Llano (one of the poorest blokes in the village) would bring Miser insufficient funds and beg for the sake of his family.
Llano was a good-hearted man, but being so did not earn him the favor of Miser. But he did allow the poor fellow to clean his manner to make up for the lack of coin.
And so Llano returned home to his small hut, where he greeted a family that eagerly awaited the buckets he carried with him. Miser was a bit less sparing this time.
“Leaving the village is useless,” Llano's wife would fail horribly at consoling him, “we need you here.”
“But what if there is pure water out there? Why should we continue to suffer?”
She shook her head and continued to rinse their dishes in dirtied water that they could not afford to replace for anything cleaner...or poisoned, of course.
The same dreary scenario would become commonplace for Llano as his funds continued to decline. He was wondering about the welfare of his family – as he always did – when he caught a glimpse of Miser wandering about in the nighttime. It was hard to miss him – it's not like anyone else was well fed enough to look like that.
At first, Llano thought nothing of it. But as days went by and he continued to catch a glimpse of Miser, he grew suspicious. In his heart, Llano didn't want to admit that something strange was afoot. He was too sheltered – too comfortable with this world where everyone could be trusted.
Eventually, Llano could endure no more torment by his curiosity, and would rise one night to make way to the woods and follow the strange magi. Of course, he feared having his good name tarnished by stalking another in the dead of night, but he couldn't help himself this time.
His silent chase soon brought him uphill and to a small waterfall that dictated the entire flow of the river that danced around the village. Here he saw the large man, kneeling beside the falls with a bag in hand. He watched for a minute as a powdered substance spilled out in waves to mingle and fall with the rushing water.
The wheels inside Llano's head began to turn, and he cried out – almost in a desperate yelp, “Wh-what are you doing?!”
Miser would turn his head, with wide eyes that sat in the middle of his face like half-sunken marbles. He dropped the bag, stumbled to his feet in haste, and pointed a finger at Llano.
“How dare you follow me, you cretin?!”
“What are you doing?!” This time, Llano's voice grew in strength.
It became obvious to the demon of a man that he was displayed for all that he was – and now, his sins revealed themselves in a fashion more obvious than the beast-like fiend he had began to depict.
In a moment, his shock formed a wicked grin, “you've always been a stupid fellow. But this? This can be the undoing of you, your wife, and your little ones.”
The horror of this statement became painted on Llano's face as soon as the monster continued, “let us not forget who holds the power here, yes?”
Llano quickly became the weakest man in the village – in the planet. At that time, he had wished for nothing more than to tear his own eyes out so that he could never rest them upon the horrors of betrayal and sin again.
Miser contemplated the situation with a strange sense of pride at the groveling man before him. But the change would be so quick that he wouldn't have much time to react; Llano nearly leaped from the ground before grunting in fury and charging him. With firm hands, he shoved the hefty man and sent him flying back to the pit of the falls, down to meet the fresh toxin that spread like disease on top of the water.
Llano heard the sounds of a splashing struggle and a few gasps of air before everything went silent. For awhile, there was only one thought to enter his mind: “it seems like I'm the one that holds the power, now.”
Discord
Light Style