You could call me many things. Overconfident asshole. Famous god slayer. Unrecognized herbalist. Whatever. But what I will not have you call me is self-centered, uncaring or unloving. Yes, I do stab people to death. But these people pretty much had it coming. See, I have this thing called patience. It’s like a long string of gum. You can pull on it or even twist it. But there will always be that moment when it snaps. And when that happens, you better run.
The top ladder for anybody in this country, except being the king, was to become the Representative of a deity. The god or goddess in charge will bestow upon you even more power, and it is said that some Representatives serve their gods for several hundreds of years. That’s some dedication, I guess.
Well, now that you know how things are in the kingdom I live in, it’s time for something to happen, right? Fear not, things are about to go south for me!
Silence. Awkward silence. On the one side the Representative Aat and her followers, on the other side a curious crowd. And we in-between. I remember pursing my lips, wanting to say something witty to defuse the situation, but Aat was faster. She whispered into the ear of a close follower, who then spoke in her stead.
Hawthorn helplessly looked down at us, as if we just asked him the most challenging riddle the world had to offer. Fear not, old man, we’re equally confused! Let us share this moment of confusedness in silent contemplation.
She was angry. Yup, pretty angry. My mother hadn’t closed to the door to our house since my father chose to be woefully absent and purchase dinner from the small night market along the way. So not only was I getting an earful, the entire neighboorhood was going to be entertained. Just great.