Cedric, however unbelievable it might sound, was a religious man: he did more than just lip service for the church, paying a handsome amount of alms every year and every Tuesday, held his gods above anything – maybe except Olaf, and showed respect to the priests all the time. This was why the priests were so determined to prepare a proper ceremony and burial for Cedric, making sure his soul would find its way to the grand hall, pass the test, and remain forever to serve the gods in heaven forever than returning the void before the beginning of time.
Olaf didn’t care much about gods, priests or religion until seeing them all in action. Beads, simple dark red robes, inaudible sounds from moving lips, bald heads, funny shoes, and even funnier walking sticks… They were so fascinating and unworldly at the same time that as if ordinary men and men of cloth were living in different worlds and could see each other only temporarily, as a result of the side effect of some conjunction.
Olaf forgot about his fascination till his father’s first death anniversary. As per the tradition, the soul of Cedric had went through all hardships during this time and now was the time of the test: an exact year after his death. A boost to help him remember, find, or even make up the right answers in front of the gods was highly recommended by the priests, of course in return of a small fee, which was paid by Cedric in his life already. As you see, the priests were decent enough people not to forget Cedric’s payment, neither they asked for Olaf to pay a second time.
The reminders started a month in advance. Olaf was supposed to wear the last clothes of his father, spend the night at his father’s grave and recite some prayers together with the priests till sunrise. A blue sky meant that the deceased had passed the test. Yellow and orange meant after some torture the deceased was to serve the gods, and red meant red: his soul was to disappear forever, to where and in which conditions no one knows.
“His soul shall rest in peace under the guidance of the gods, find joy in serving them and benefit from the fruits of heaven on his off times. He needs us one last time more, son. Your father needs you one last time. Ready yourself.”
Yeah, yeah. He’d rather find some people to annoy together with Arthur than spend the night with them boring priests. Twenty eight days he didn’t care about them but on twenty ninth he did after seeing his father in his dream, swearing and cursing, yet this time at him than others. “You’ll be nothing too, I swear I’ll at least that much” he said disappearing from Olaf’s eyes. “What I deserved wasn’t this but you’ll get precisely what you deserve”.
Was it Olaf’s unconscious, a miracle, or the making of the drink that the priest gave Olaf? I don’t know, all I know is that the next night he was ready to see Cedric off. Clothes were worn, rites were recited, funny moves were acted and with the sunrise they saw the blue sky, at the blue hour purely out of coincidence, and Cedric was gone from this earth and to his gods for once and all.
“What happens if we are no more” asked Olaf returning home with priests, tired and sleepy.
“We don’t exist. What worse can there be?” replied the eldest one.
“I didn’t exist before I was born. Did I?”
“Aye, you did. You were with gods, waiting for your time.”
“I didn’t exist before they created me, then. How is it bad?”
“Because you existed once. It’s worse to lose than not have at all.”
“Then it’s gods that lose, not I. They’ll be short of one that serves and praises them. They should care, not I.”
“Happiness is with gods, they desire for you to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
“Real happy.”
“Are you really happy?”
“I sure am.”
“Keep rolling, then. I’m fine as I am.”
The priests were speechless. So was the problem of this religion – there was no real punishment to divert people like Olaf to the true path. This lack of power didn’t help Olaf to discover his interest in religions but planted the seeds for the second time he was the witness of a death, this time of an acquaintance:
Years had passed and he was with the caravan. It was a cold night, they were south of the desert, on the way to the silver lake, when the apprentice of the blacksmith, a young boy walked maybe seventeen years on the earth under the sun, maybe, and according to Olaf for sure, less than that, couldn’t survive the illness that started shaking him three weeks ago and died in pain, but at least in his sleep. You’d call it coma today but then they didn’t know such a thing – sadly, or happily.
Olaf, having heard of the existence of another religion yet not having seen one in action, therefore believing all are more or less the same thing, recalled what had been the case with Cedric and wondered who was to assist this poor boy’s soul a year from that night, both out of wonder and worry. Morning had brought him surprise: they cut a tree down, laid the dead body after washing him in the stream below on the wood, and burned him – if it could be called him any more.
Burning the body? What the hell it was? Olaf was ready to fight to defend the honour of the deceased until realising, following a quite lengthy discussion with two, that this would be his demand had he chance to express his will. This was the moment Olaf’s interest took an official form: there seemed to be as many religions as languages. He had started learning a new language, why not learning new religions as well?
He did. He bought an empty book at the first instance and wrote about all the beliefs he came across during his travels. He learned seven languages, two fully and five others, well, enough for him to roam his head around freely, met maybe thousands of people which included tens, maybe hundreds of men of cloth, hence tens, maybe hundreds of beliefs and religions, so much so that a second notebook he needed before changing his profession.
Olaf’s business idea, I was saying. He and two companions from his band took a break at Chilkmoor. A tourist attraction the much times and conditions allowed, this village offered breath-taking views of the mountains above and the plains below. Views can be found everywhere, yet hot springs, especially those as hot and healing as in Chilkmoor, are rare to come by. He met a man, a unique man that’s one of his kind: He was no man of God, no. He was God – and not a God but the God, one and the only one at that. Olaf first laughed at him and went, though the two, by fate, came to meet at the bath in the afternoon.
“I’ve met countless prophets on the path, old man” Olaf said to god while receiving a good back massage. “Not one says the same with the other”.
“Lies don’t cover the truth. It’s one, you like it or not.”
“And you’re the one truth?”
“Aye.”
Olaf wasn’t sure if this man was serious till seeing his face saying “aye”. It wasn’t determination or dedication, it wasn’t simple thought or belief either. This guy knew that he was god the way and much Olaf knew that he was Olaf. If you dare questioning philosophically how Olaf is sure of being himself, I have to but take a step back and leave you two alone for you to discuss the matter as long, deep, and extensively as you prefer.
“Tell me of yourself, god” Olaf asked with respect. God was happy with this change of attitude but wasn’t yet to reveal himself.
“First you tell me of what’s going on in this wide world” he replied with curiosity.
“You’re god, don’t you know, man?”
“I wonder the much you have to tell – especially of them prophets you mentioned. Tell me, I want to know it all.”
“Where I start, any preferences?”
“I let my creatures do what they will fore the judgement comes.”
“Let that be, then” Olaf replied and started telling of the events first, and the prophets later. God seemingly was more into the latter, nevertheless he listened with genuine interest the recent events either. He wasn’t happy to hear about the skirmishes to the east.
“Why does it matter?”
“I had my mother’s grave there. Them bastards should have ruined it.”
“Didn’t know that God has a mother?”
“Whence I come, did you think?”
“Yeah, my bad.”
“I pardon you for this sin, boy.”
How many of you had the privilege of being personally forgiven by God? Olaf, grateful for his graciousness, started his stories of and with the prophets. God was happy at times, to the extent of clapping his hands and dancing with joy, and angry other times, with his eyebrows crossed and even swearing.
“What did that son of a bitch say again?”
“That we’ll reincarnate till we’ll be Gods ourselves.”
“Imbecile. I’ll better turn him into a chicken.”
“Why chicken?”
“So that he gets fucked every day.”
Yeah, God was scary.
Their talk lasted for hours, from afternoon to late evening, and would last even longer had either the bath didn’t close in the end or Olaf hadn’t a guest, and a maiden one at that, waiting for him for a while already.
Next day he looked for God but, alas, he was long gone. “He comes around quite often but rare he stays for three consecutive nights” the innkeeper said. “Don’t you be fooled, he has many followers round here. Even downstream is a temple for him, aye, but he likes to stay here. You know, bed is more comfortable than rock. But he pays for the room and leaves some tip. He’s a good guy even if not God, am happy when he’s around”.
“Don’t you have a fortune teller? Or a soothsayer, a shaman, something? Anything?”
“We had but no more, she went to try her luck elsewhere. Why would you need a middleman when you have the God himself?”
This was the moment Olaf thought of the guild. If you have the God you wouldn’t need a middleman – but what about the times you don’t have it? Wouldn’t you rather choose among some than just going by the one at hand?
You know the rest of the story. Now let’s fast forward in time and return to the day that he officially established the guild.
