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 All the deaths of the Cloud King

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Number of posts : 283
Age : 27
Registration date : 2008-07-28

PostSubject: All the deaths of the Cloud King   Fri Oct 17, 2008 9:38 am

All the deaths of the Cloud King

In the royal city of Azancia, once ruled the Ninth Cloud King who, like all the monarchs who were born under the sign of the cloud, he was big in thought and little in words.

In the night after the celebrations of his crowning, he gathered a little group of his advisers to a discreet banquet at the palace where, after drinking and eating, the silent king admired the vastness of his realm submerged on the night illuminated by the Mother Moon on his fully pregnant state and only noticing the high execution towers like columns in the entrance of the palace of death and demanded to his advisers which they considered to be the most horrid form to die while a servant served some wine the Grand Counselor.

The Grand Counselor, whom the rest of the royal officials had to answer, said with a proud sneer that inside the great and glowing kingdom there was not a more dreadful, yet just, death that the one suffered by the ones who act against the glory and grace of the kingdom and its fair ruler; being the traitors chained to the towers with their belly opened and his fate left to the carrion birds and the Father Sun.

The Captain of Arms, supreme leader of all the armies and who did not wanted to be overshadowed by the flattering recount of the Grand Counselor, commented in a falsely humbly manner how the footmen who returned from the wars against those heathen who believe in a female earthly goddess instead of accepting the Mother Moon and the Father Sun as even the beggar children know and pray, tell legends on how these barbarians pay with blood all their crimes that range from stealing a fruit or harming a tree that equals with cutting a tip of the finger or a toe to taking away with the other spear the maiden attributes without her consent nor her fatherís or taking away with the spear the living attributes equaling to being tied to a tree in the woods and abandoned with countless wounds to bleed to death, but is also mentioned that the most compassionate ones prefer to simply practice the art of archery, since their blades are immensely inferior.

Dried his throat from such tale, the Captain of Arms drank heavily from his just refilled cup.

To make use of the commentaries on pagans and blood, the High Priest, whose opinion was the most significant on unearthly matters and as the Captain of Arms and the Grand Counselor desired to left a deep impression, commented on the schismatic nomadic tribes that roamed the desert, may the Father Sunís sword fall on them and the Mother Moonís word show their mistake, expiate all their sins, or at least what they consider sin, bury them from toes to neck on the sands and leave them for two days and three nights, since is their heathen belief that the fire and sweat the only way to reach pureness and if they survive their faults are forgotten and if not, the sinner is the one forgotten on the sands of the desert that nothing forgives.
The king, amazed and intrigued by this narration, demanded to know which the punishment for the cureless criminals was while the High Priest drank a sip from his cup.

For the ones whose shadows have corrupted it is preferred by them to be blazed on a furnace so the fire redeem them and free from sin this world.

The Scholar, whom the King demanded his answer, mentioned how each manner to die had at least an advantage except one.
Was not the worst ending the one in which we are not aware that it has finished? The one stoned to death can ask for forgiveness for his crimes or insult his executers. The one doomed to a slow and lonely agony can try to reconcile with oneself and their god; on the other side, the one who dies as quick as a fall did not suffer much and the one who dies in glorious battle has eternal honor while the one who dies from old age generally had a tranquil life. But many sleepless nights have been spent by this Scholar, expecting the big black bird to take his last breath since is far most ghastly that anything told in this is to perish while resting, trapped forever on the realms of dream, expecting a dawn that never arrives to retake the choirs left unfinished while the body decays

The curiosity, common and pesky, attribute to inquisitive minds, invaded the mind of the Scholar as a swarm of bugs and courtly asked to his king, what did he considered it was the most dreadful death while refreshing his throat with a drink.
The Ninth Cloud King admired the faces of his royal cohorts and opined that by far the worst of the deaths was not to be measured by what provoked the decease but whom, and the worst kind of death was the one given by the one this person has invested its trusts as the good honorable woman who dies on hands of her vile spouse whom she loved, the brave soldier whose throat is slid by a furtive traitor dressed on his uniform or the example of the Fourth Mirror King, who was stabbed to death by his loyal advisers and accused his manservant unaware that his firstborn had returned earlier than said from hunting on the highlands and who now sits in the throne while his treacherous advisers dine drunken in power and other matters.

As the thunder that hits the ground, the fright attacked the advisers while the Grand Counselor collapsed on the table, the Captain of Arms fell as soon he stood up, the High Priest did not managed to reach to the entrance of the chamber and the Scholar was peacefully sleeping knowing that his departure has finally started and before the Mother Moon was fully pregnant again, the Grand Counselor laid disemboweled on one of the execution towers he praised, The Captain of Arms was hung from his ankles in a high wall and used by vengeful lancers he had mistreated as a practice target, the High Priest burned slowly to death in a smiting furnace and the life of the Scholar was spared, leaving him with the uncertainty of his own death.

The Ninth Cloud King was invoked and remembered by later rulers as The Peaceful Cloud, since he preferred to instead of declare war to his rivals and enemies he rather asked them to dine with him on palace.

Great is the Father
Great is the Mother
Great are we
Their Rightful Children
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