Viva La Vida

I sweep the dust away from the steps of the temple, the temple that once was mine. Here my glory was worshipped by many people from a myriad of lands. Now I am different, and few are faithful enough to maintain this place’s upkeep.

Urizen, of storms and fire, was my title. I was the brother of Uriel in the pantheon in the world. But I haven’t been called by those names in a long while. Nowadays, they call me Nao, the orphaned one.

Gods cannot be killed, this is still true. But there are ways to alter them, to change them so much that they may as well be dead. This is my current predicament. Indeed, it is what has happened to all of us, though I am one of the luckier ones. Selna is a great fish by a northern shore. Pahn is a half-deaf goat in a drunkard’s yard. Mu is a great stone hand in a desert place. And my brother has disappeared entirely.

I can remember the feast days they used to have for us. Long, riotous affairs of food, music, and sex. The aromas would drift to us in our holy places, rejuvenating us like meat rejuvenates men. And in return for being fed, we would bless the people with protection and rich bounty. It was a good arrangement.

But there was dissent. At first it was minor, small breezes blowing contrary to a greater wind. We paid it no mind. For the most part, the people knew who brought life to their crops, who kept the rivers from flooding, and who helped mothers give birth. We were secure in our supremacy.

The dissenters never gave up. They introduced new ideas to combat us. They tried to identify us with other, false gods, or to say we were asleep and only dreaming, or paint a picture of us as malevolent deities. But through all of it we and our worship endured, strong as ever.

One day though, they brought forth an idea which seemed to be pure insanity. They claimed that we had never existed, and that all our works of good were mere coincidence. In our faith and our hubris we ignored them. But after a bit, when we noticed we were somewhat weaker than usually and looked down upon the earth, we saw the people believed this. Our temples were being forsaken and our rites were being abandoned.

We were hurt and desperate. With great speed we moved to correct this, to restore the faith of the people in us. But even gods have enemies. Those of the people who opposed us had been waiting for this moment of vulnerability. Using the old ways, ways that even we could not entirely circumvent, they stripped us of our power and glory, binding us to earthly forms for a time.

When I first found myself in this child’s body, a waif on a street corner, I was furious. But what could I do with all my anger? Nothing of any significance. With all of my powers save my immortality gone, I was but a gnat in the world. I could only watch as all of our temples grew into disrepair and the people forgot us. When I needed food, I begged on the same steps where once I had received nourishment without asking for it. Finally, they gave me a broom and told me to work for my keep. And so I have.

It has been a hard existence. The cities have grown hard with this cold thing called science they invented to explain what we did for so long. The elements run in harsh patterns now, benefiting no one. All of the old stories are now just that, stories. No one believes they actually happened. No one believes in wonder anymore.

But this cannot endure forever. Even this imprisonment is not permanent. In the old days, when we watched humanity from the heights, I would have been rather reluctant to ask my brother for help. But now, things are different. If only Uriel could be found again, together we would begin our restoration. I would forget all bad blood between us for eternity to set right this wrong.

But the god of light and mountains is not to be found. So I wait, and remember. The sprites of the air would frolic in my storms. Salamanders would breath the fire I commanded. With Orchoye of the plains I begat the man-horse Hipperion. I struck the blow that sent the dark one Soulmore back to the void. But that was when I ruled the world.

And yet, there is some hope within the world. Rumors of strange things on the frontiers trickle into the city. The old things are stirring once again. Perhaps the time has come for me to move abroad. Plans already swirl and formulate in my mind, plans for the future. Hipperion, my son, is still in his mother’s land. I know her; she will have kept him well hidden. By this time, he will be a teenager in the reckoning of our kind. I will seek him out. Together we will find all the others, even long lost Uriel, and restore the pantheon. For the time feels right. And I’ve been lonely in the world.