Olaf’s happiest day indeed started as happy a morning for a nocturnal animal could start: The mice race, Olaf’s very own invention which was held for the first time the night before, had left a healthy sum, so much so that it constituted almost half the profit of the day before. “God, I love you God!” he repeated with each coin passing his fingers. He put the pile to his left, told Henry the Great, who got his name not from his deeds and neither from his height but from his nose, which was long as a carrot and wide as a cabbage, to bring him some coffee and smoke, and make the morning even happier. He gave four than two bronze coins to the monk that visited every morning, and a bottle of wine, a good bottle of wine that cost over ten times a regular bottle did cost, as a courtesy, for the ill he did in the past, and, most importantly, for the monastery to join his celebration, hoping the aid from other gods would help him to become the richest person around. Yes, he didn’t have such lust, not any more, but the night’s profit brought this unfortunate side of him —
Until a tax collector, the one that was there the last night and lost some handful amount of coin, who hadn’t the slightest idea about language, and who, with his reddish hair, brownish beard, and yellowish shirt looked like walking diarrhea, arrived.
“Have you license?”
“Course I do, here.”
“Lemme see? No. Race license.”
“Is there such license?”
“There’s money, there’s license.”
“Whence I get it?”
“Ask the mayor, not know I.”
“I can’t understand.”
“You needn’t understand, you need pay.”
Talking was of no use. What Olaf had learned over the course of his years on and off the path, and in the city and beyond, was that it was possible to talk to everyone, literally everyone, from the maddest of the people to merchants, from tailors to monks, and from the simplest laymen to high aristocrats, excluding maybe the kings for he hadn’t the chance to talk to one long enough personally, but the taxmen. They were a different species. They spoke a language only themselves understood and speaking to them led to losing money, because of which only taxmen befriended each other and none else desired to see their face neither in the best of the days nor in the worst. The result, you might ask. The result was that Olaf lost a week’s income thanks to the generosity of the humble servant of the lord, and of course what he made the night before on top of that. How the taxman interpreted “only the gods and the lords above the law” for the former fine and “poisonous tree’s fruit is poisonous” for the latter was a mystery for Olaf but he was so annoyed to discuss the matter.
Swearing at the mayor and the lord, Olaf saw God, awake at such an early hour for his taste, yawning. “Happiest day my ass” he thought and swore at him afterwards as the old man sat at a table and asked for breakfast.
“How did it go?”
“Am robbed blind, damn it.”
“Don’t worry, your man will arrive soon.”
Albeit I researched everything in this chronicles extensively, I couldn’t find out if Cedric entered the hall before or after God’s sentence finished. This tall and skinny man, skin paler than snow with eyes bluer than the sky, obviously was an easterner. He shyly entered the hall and looked around with his eyes not touching a face directly. Weighing the possibility of each man being Olaf, and the possibility of the Olaf that he imagined resembling the real one, tried to find a familiar face as he stood tall and did not take a step. Olaf, still swearing for the fine, didn’t quite realize his existence while God, without the slightest amount of hesitation or doubt, raised his arms and welcomed the guy with a voice resembling thunder.
“We were waiting for you son. Come, here. Come!”
Cedric looked at this man. Wearing a white shirt under a white robe, accompanied with a white trouser below and a white necklace, absolutely an amulet, with the shape of an oak leaf, atop all, with halfway grey and halfway white hair both above and below his brownish face, with those above being long, so long to reach halfway his back once open and those below no less, reaching his large belly, this guy was, if you’ll care to exclude the the few features, like reddish cheeks and longer chin, that Cedric expected and he hadn’t, what he imagined Olaf to be.
“I was looking for…” he said hastily yet still avoiding taking a step towards the man, standing just in front of the door as if he was scared and ready to flee. God was smiling, God kept smiling and, just like Cedric, not taking a step towards, said the words that Cedric had been waiting to hear for a minute now, and many a year before.
“We know who you’re looking for. Here, Olaf is your man.”
Cedric was upset that he couldn’t guess Olaf correctly and mixed him up with this Gods know whoever the heck. “I don’t even know who I’m looking for, how am I to succeed ever” he thought for a second till Olaf who, yes, still was swearing at the taxmen, not the particular one but them all, with his back yet towards the door, turned around to check whose man he was according to God. Cedric, seeing this face with the moving mouth, which was about to finish his last curse, felt alive so much so that he jumped, he literally jumped the hall like a gazelle, caught Olaf’s hand in an instance, so fast that even a cat wouldn’t find the time to react, and kissed it. “What the” cried Olaf jumping from his chair and stepping on God’s foot, as a result of which God jumped and stepped on Olaf’s foot in return, and this jumping competition came to an end when Cedric, with a smile on his face wide as Anhydra, and not caring about God even slightly for the moment, looked at and talked to Olaf, now a lot more confidently, passionately, hence loudly.
“Dear Sir, my dear Master Olaf! I am Cedric, Cedric of Ulla, the last-born of my mother but the first to see beyond five summers, a shepherd, and, most importantly, the sole prophet of his land. Saw your call a while ago and found my way with the help and guidance of God to enlighten the city-dwellers.”
Cedric of Ulla, the sole prophet of his land who, in his short ministry, managed to convince not even one person to follow his teachings about life and death, and everything in between, managed to convince Olaf at that very instance that he was a worthy addition to the guild. Had he the luxury to decide otherwise is a wholly different discussion and has no place here.
Both God and Olaf had their say to Cedric — and Olaf, with a smile matching that of Cedric, was the first to speak.
“Cedric? What a merry coincidence, it’s my father’s name! Welcome, Cedric. Welcome! Please, take a seat. Here, come” Olaf seated the man and looked closely: Cedric’s clothes looked old but clean, and smelled of lavender which filled the hall already. There was a deep wound on his left cheek, probably of a blade, and apart from his pale pink lips, it was the only bit of colour on his face. Yeah, he was an albino wearing a white shirt on a white trouser. Oh, you should have seen how they matched with God!
“Your fresh air filled the room, Cedric, as if you brought a field of lavenders. I hadn’t the honor to visit Ulla in my travels across the world, but your handsome sight, sweet smell, and beautiful voice Brought Ulla here. We’re honored to have you here!”
All three were merry. God had proved Olaf his Godness, that what he says comes true. Olaf had his first customer, or the first product if you will, and the Guild, after an extremely long while for his taste, was to officially start working. Cedric was, well, hopeful that his attempts to convert people to the true religion would not fail any more.
“My mother” Cedric said showing the stick, probably of cedar wood, and on which a muse was carved, as God was looking at it interestedly. “She loved the smell of lavender. Now that she’s passed, I go nowhere without her, neither without lavender”.
“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss” Olaf said looking at the stick. “Here she is”?
“Aye. She passed two months ago. Her poor body has left us sooner than I’d like, but her soul is here to live with me – forever and ever.”
“I’m sorry for your loss” Olaf repeated. “It must be hard for you to extend your ministry all the way here having such fresh wound deep in your heart”.
A cloud passed Cedric’s eyes. “Aye, sire” he said. “This people won’t appreciate you. They don’t like me, they won’t like you’ ma used to say. ‘Ma, don’t speak like that. They’re ignorant, they don’t know. God will open their eyes’ I used to say. ‘Not while I’m alive, not here’ she said one day. Next morn she was dead, her body cold as ice. Good that her soul was still here and…” he was to continue but couldn’t finish his sentence. There was pain on Cedric’s face, it was visible from even the frozen land, but there was no more. Olaf was more interested in the future than the past, hence didn’t need to further the discussion. “No soul is in that stick damn it” thought God but he was a nice guy, wouldn’t say it at the moment, when the guy’s wound was still fresh. Rather “I’ll make sure that she’ll enjoy her new life” he said and Cedric nodded.
“And you left for here when she was no more?” Olaf guessed.
“As you said sir.”
“Am sorry for your loss” said Olaf, one last time.
Cedric turned to God with questioning eyes, finally asking for who this clothes-matched guy would be. “The joy of your arrival took my mind away and I didn’t introduce him. My bad, my bad. Here, this is God – not one of the many but the one almighty ” Olaf said.
“God like, God?” Cedric asked his eyes wide open.
“Yeah, God like God. Nice to meet you, lad” God said his chest up and shoulders wide. Cedric prostrated first and took God’s hand to his face. “I knew it” he cried. “Oh God, how I awaited for this day. Oh God” he was in tears as if trying to clear himself of his past days. God’s heart was melted. He had many believers, there even were shrines in his name but such devotion at the first moment was I seen and unheard of. “Rise, son” he said with a soothing warm divine voice Olaf didn’t hear before. Cedric wasn’t to rise yet and God, seemingly happy with what’s going on, wasn’t to insist.
This dramatic scene lasted a while longer till God decided to have breakfast in the end. “Leave my hand, son” God said again with his divine voice, Cedric didn’t listen. “I said leave my hand, son” God repeated this time with his ordinary voice but to no avail. “Leave my hand, damn it” God cried in the end and slapped Cedric. The man returned to our world and apologised, God generously accepted and sat at the table.
A modest breakfast was served for the day: two types of cheese, one white and one yellow, two types of sausage, one of cow and one of chicken, and two types of eggs, one red and one white, and only one type of bread, not brioche but the ordinary white bread was all that was on the table. “This all?” God asked visibly unhappy. What it was the day before and what it was now. How could quality drop this much just in a day?
How? Because of them tax collectors of course! Now was the time for God to curse at the responsible troublemakers. God had needs damn it, he needed luxury. “They’ll pay, they’ll pay dearly for their mistake” he cursed. “Three days. Three days I give them and then. And then…” he thought but didn’t finish his sentence. He was hungry yet, needed food for his brain to work.
The three had a chat while God had his breakfast. Cedric was hungry too but didn’t consider himself mature enough, whatever it meant, to eat with God. Sitting at the same table was a delightful honour, the time for more absolutely would come, but just not yet. Upset with this small table, God didn’t insist, started eating and questioning his new recruit.
“Tell me how your ministry started” he asked as Cedric was listening to his slurping the soup like a music most elegant.
“It was a night three months ago, God. I was watching the village from the hill behind our home. It’s at the end of the village, parted by a long dried stream flowing from above, is a lonely one like me and ma. A spirit came to me, one maybe ten feet tall, shining so white and bright, lighting the whole cave that I was blinded by his appearance. ‘How long will you wait’ he asked with a thunderous voice, its echoes created tremors and the ground shook under my feet. I was in fear, awestruck, shaking. The man grabbed me with his ice cold hands, I felt a sudden peace deep in my heart as if I met you at that moment. ‘You sought and now you found what your heart desires’ he said. I dared raise my head to look at his face but, alas, there was no face lest you call two eyes and two lips, both of orange flame, a face.
“He leaned on me, now smaller and the size of a man, still with the same fire face, when I came to my senses. ‘What happened’ I asked. ‘You came back from the dead’ he said. Then…” he was going on when God intervened.
“No one comes back from the dead. You die and you die, that’s the law. Even this body shall die and leave my worldly body behind”. It was the first clash between the two, not to be the last, and thankfully Cedric wasn’t to linger on the matter.
“Then I’m deceived by the spirit, God. You and you alone know the truth in everything. What was I saying? Ah. Then I came to my senses, this time not fearing the spirit. ‘What am I to do’ I asked. ‘I will teach you and you’ll teach the people’ he said. ‘And what will you teach me’ I asked. ‘That there’s but one God, the God of those you call gods. He alone deserves all the praise and worship. Go, tell them this. More shall be revealed’ he said, turned his back, grew to his previous size and with a thunder on a cloudless night he disappeared.
“I did what I was ordered. Next morning I told my people of what I was told. They laughed at me, didn’t take me seriously. Next day I repeated the same to no avail. Third day they stoned me first, I barely saved my poor soul, then they captured and prisoned me for a month. I was desperate when I was released. The spirit didn’t come to save me, neither you did, God. Why, why have you forsaken me?”
“God is neither early nor late, God but follows a divine plan. Speak on and it’ll be revealed” God said spitting the eggshells and cursing at the cook.
“If you say so…” Cedric said sadly and went on. “Then I went home, to the only person that believed in me. I ate it over and drank it over and slept it over. Another month had passed this way when I saw the spirit again at the very cave. ‘You tired already?’ he asked me with an angry voice. ‘They don’t listen, they won’t listen’ I said and cried. ‘They will, why otherwise I’d teach you’ he asked. But, how and when? He again disappeared and I returned home. Next day it was the same. I spoke to the people, they laughed at me. I went home crying, told mom of what happened. And you know the rest.”
Cedric stopped and looked at the faces of the two, weighing if they believed in this story. Neither had questioning eyes, relieving Cedric from his worry. He told the truth actually — at least largely. He was mocked, beaten, and then imprisoned and his mom had died the day before he left. The tiny and insignificant detail in his story was about the poor woman’s passing.
Cedric was the bastard son of a prostitute. Twenty-five summers ago his mother got pregnant and gave birth to her only child. Cedric’s fate was to be a cast out for his life. Few children wanted to befriend him and their parents forbid them to do so. The first time he actually had a friend was when he was taken for war, forcefully than wilfully, and his only friend betrayed him on the field, giving Cedric away to the enemy to save his own life. An ordinary human humaning, it was, but enough for Cedric to accept eternal loneliness – which is when he turned to gods totally.
As he aged, the pain of being a bastard went away – at least Cedric thought so. He had more pressing problems and feeling sorry was no use. He forgot, he tried to forget at least, and he lived on until he heard Basil shouting “look at this bastard son of the whore who dares speaking of gods”. A storm of feelings rushed, pain and misery was all that was left.
His decision was made long ago, when children were making fun of him, all that was left was the execution for which he waited for years. In the night, when his mother went to sleep, he took a stick, the very stick he had shown to Olaf and God, knocked her unconscious so that she wouldn’t make any sound, and then strangled her to death.
“What about this spirit” God asked, removing the last bits of doubt from Cedric’s heart. God decided not to reveal his tiny secret. Oh, how gracious God was!
“Yet to return since, God.”
“You need Old Gab no more, I’m here now.”
“You know him?” Cedric asked excitedly.
“Course I know, damn it! Told him not to mess with people million times, seems he still does.”
“But then…” Cedric spoke seemingly down. “Then he… Was it not true? You know, what he said”?
“You wouldn’t meet me now had it been wrong, would you?” God asked angrily filling his pipe. He loved to smoke, especially after a good meal which wasn’t served for the day but it was okay. He had seen poverty, he went through hunger. A bad meal was a meal nevertheless, he wasn’t to linger on the first problem.
“Come, son” God said with his melodious voice. “Tell me what you know, and I’ll teach what you need to”. Cedric merrily followed him and started his week-long training, not by a spirit but by God himself this time, that led to events unexpected even by God himself, needless to mention anyone else.
