Seeker of Thrones 6-61
“As Kassardis approached his maimed and mangled wives, they scrabbled for their weapons in whatever way they could, clutching their gory injuries. For Kassardis was a ghastly sight: malnourished, clad only in rags, and with a terrible light in his eyes. They should have known then that the fate Kassardis had chosen for them was far worse than they ever could have expected, but they were fools with little imagination, and so chose to fight anyway.
Kassardis took the pommel of his blade, and with all his strength struck each of the wives across the head, knocking them unconscious. It took four blows from the great enameled hilt of the sword to fell Littari, but eventually the pints of blood she had lost stopped her struggle.
With great fierceness, Kassardis drove off Ipreski’s retainers, and tearing scraps of cloth, bound the gushing wounds of his wives however he could. He knew however dire their injuries seemed, they would likely survive, having been bred for generations for thick blood, tough skin, and other valued traits to place them above his other potential wives.
Exhausted, the silver prince finally dragged himself to the road, where he waited for a merchant’s cart, and went to a hard-scrabble town to find an apothecary. There, he bartered the remainder of the old swordmaster’s belongings for medicine, keeping only the blade and the old man’s boots, which he put on.
Finally, there in the gulch, Kassardis made camp, and over the next few days tended to his wives with incredible care. He sewed up gashes, blotted dried blood, and fed them water as they suffered. And though he tried his best, Littari would surely never speak again, Ipreski surely never walk again, and Vastoki’s nose had long since disappeared into a pond.
On the third day, Vastoki, the youngest and most calculating, could finally speak, and when she did she was astonished.
“You fool!” she croaked, “Do you seek to garner my sympathy? When I am well again, I will subdue you, husband, and take you back to our great kingdom and our rightful throne. This changes nothing!”
“Of course,” said Kassardis, “Violence is inescapable. The Very Wise Frog was right.”
And to Vastoki, something had changed in Kassardis. He was more relaxed, and more tense at the same time, like flexible steel. A great truth had settled into his flesh, and his calm was a terrible thing to behold.
“I came to find the land of Samura, where peace is eternal,” said Kassardis, “But instead, I find that I must carry Samura with me.” And he grasped the hilt of his sword and stood, and Vastoki finally realized how tall he was.
“None of the three of you will ever agree to share me, and none of the three of you can best the other,” said Kassardis, “You are already too poisoned by violence. I will run from you, and you will find me, again and again, and again and again you will destroy yourselves in trying to claim me. And again and again, I will tend to your wounds, and flee, knowing that I will never truly escape.”
“Again and again you will destroy yourselves until you are mere hunks of flesh, crippled wrecks of meat. And there will come a day when you have become so ruined that even I will be able to best you in combat, and you will submit to my peace.”
Vastoki did not believe Kassardis at first, for she was a fool, but she humored him anyway. “And what then?” she scoffed, “Your kingdom, my silver prince, will ever await you. It is worth a hundred thousand cattle, and half a million sheep. They will send more wives. Ten thousand of them!”
“And I will tend to them too,” said Kassardis.
It was then that Vastoki knew the truth of Kassardis’ words, but she could do nothing about it, for violence was inescapable. She knew she could not turn from her fate, for the vain hope that she would still win grasped her beyond all reason.
“You will never rest!” she spat, and her missing nose wept blood, “You will flee for all eternity!”
“Such is the cost of peace,” said Kassardis, “Even if I should care for ten thousand maimed wives.”
Then he tightened his wives’ bandages, and soothed the struggling Vastoki, and left them ample supplies. And though his wives spat and cursed at him, they could do little but let him leave, his countenance calm and resolute as he said one last thing:
“I will see you in Samura.”
– Tales of the Silver Prince
Hoarding is a practice of loss
Once counted and vaulted, coins cannot
be spent, regardless of cost.
They don’t carry value for being held, they carry value for how much everyone else wants to hold them.
Like balls.
Observe Mammon, children. Watch, learn and avoid. For he binds himself in chains of gold, and makes the count his master. How weighty that hoard must be, yet he toils to make it heavier still.
Give generously from your wealth, children, before it enslaves you.
yes, give it to me for safe keeping
Alright, Kassardis wins. He wins forever.
By Aesma, that was a read and a half. I applaud you, Abbadon. Well done.
The silver prince has my respect. An oasis of peace in a world of violence. By accepting the world and his own heart he has changed them both.
Peace is the acceptance of conflict, not its abscence.
I wonder just how Mammon “came into his mastery”? Mottom and Incubus basically got their keys from their respective spouses. Mottom at least killed her husband for it, yes; but it’s not like they waded through mountains of corpses and rivers of blood to rise to their positions, and something tells me that Mammon here didn’t either.
I don’t remember where it was stated in the comic, but Mammon is known to have BOUGHT his key.
What price would such a thing have? What would someone who had a key accept in trade for it? Perhaps we will find out.
True! I forgot about that. So it’s confirmed: none of the Demiurges so far “conquered” their keys by directly confronting and defeating their previous owners. I wonder whether this is going to become a trend…
To be fair, they all killed plenty of demiurges during the war.
He bought it.
He bought his key with innumerable coin and other objects of wealth, fair and square.
Mammon bought his key. http://killsixbilliondemons.com/comic/seeker-of-thrones-2-9/
As for how he got the funds to purchase the key, it probably has something to do with him becoming a giant dragon-thing, and using dragon-ness to acquire a hoard.
Nah, he already has his key in the 2nd panel there, and he’s clearly not gigantic yet. Becoming gigantic is a result of him aging, actually; his species gets larger and larger the older they become. Him becoming fukc hueg is a result of him having lived for such a long time. The time he spent to reach his “mastery” should be rather insignificant compared to how long he’s lorded over creation as the banker mobster monster.
Previous testimony (Seeker of Thrones 2-9) indicates that Mammon achieved his status via truck and barter. /Bought/ his Key, somehow.
Mammon purchased his key, iirc.
Pretty sure he just bought his Key.
A person without a key rarely took one from someone who did, in real combat.
Once you had a key, you needed to kill others and take their keys, or be killed for yours. –at least until the treaty of the Seven Part World.
That treaty is crumbling, and only the strongest will survive to inherit The Prize.
Ancient prophesy has foretold that there can be only one.
“Heeeere we are! / Boooorn to be kings, /
We’re the princes of the uuuuniveeerse!”
Didn’t Abaddon say on his Tumblr that Mammon took his like the rest of the Demiurges? I think the “bought” thing was an original concept that was discarded, but then reiterated by a character who has possibly flawed information.
I bet he wants to carry a box deep down.
Don’t we all.
That’s a strangely uplifting ending to the tale.
Also, heist time!
The silver prince chose well. Far better than the ending of Hasset Om’s tale. With an endless stream of wives in a world of violence, the former husband of Mother Om chose the path of the demon. Their respective rewards are just.
Behold, the terrible price of Royalty.
The last of his herd, he must truly be a tortured soul inside.
Given that he personally had all of them killed (paying other mercenaries to do it)…I doubt he has any feelings about being the last of his kind.
He’s only the last of his clan.
Other clans of The Kind People can be seen hauling loads on the King’s Road.
Another day, another hole in the ground. I’m starting to think that YISUN likes Onua best.
That was the weirdest variation on “I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew” I have ever read.
Despite internet convention there are few things, in truth, which actually make me laugh out loud.
The realization your comment sparked has now joined that list.
That was the weirdest variation on “I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew” I’ve ever read.
We descend once more!
Fear the ire of porters, for they see much while unseen, and are very strong
The Silver Prince is most impressive in him resolve, and in some ways most cruel.
Is it cruelty to accept, and float atop, the cruelty of the universe where one was born.
Do you call the actuary cruel because he keeps truthful account of the murders Time commits?
Are you like the peasants who hated Machiavelli for speaking the Truth, of how politicians must lie to them, or face hatred and rebellion?
Do you despise those that reap the blood that red-toothed nature spills? Know ye not that the blood I reap will be sown for the next harvest.
Cruelty is a real thing.
An entity that is cruel is cruel regardless of whether or not you think it’s benevolent.
Kassardis is cruel. He could have chosen to end his wives, and end their sufferring. Instead, he chose to run. He did this to uphold his own ideas, flawed as they are–not to save anyone, other than himself.
Remember his reaction to being told that violence is inescapable.
He is kind, to let them live as they see fit. They are slaves to their own delusions. They are, of their own free will, at any time are free to abandon the path of violence- or would be, were violence not inescapable. They make the choice, they act accordingly, to the eventual end of their ruin and submission to Kassardis’s peace. He has made his choice and will act accordingly, and has said so. Their inability to see the truth of this makes it no less true.
Yeah, Charon’s crush on Mammon checks out. He is both cool AND solid.
Surely he won’t betray the party to cozy up to the Grand Dragon.
Certainly not, it is not fitting to serve under one’s rival. Even if it is strictly for the purposes of usurping them later.
All Hail God Mammon
PRAISE MAMMON
Welcome to ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶r̶i̶c̶e̶f̶i̶e̶l̶d̶s̶ Samura, motherfucker!
That’s one hell of an ending.
I just ordered the KSBD book!! I’m so excited! 8D
And lo, Kassardis learned a great and terrible secret: Kiting the enemy until their AI bugs out and turns aggro to each other.
Kiting forever. Truly, the prince has become wise.
But they were already doing that
[“Whales” intensifies]
Wait are they digging a hole through the coins? will they begin their journey via money tunnels?
For Mammon, a note of perhaps misplaced pity. Consumed by greed, there is little left beyond the counting. Crazy Ulurhad, No Reasonable Offers Refused, I bid ask a question; is the weight of one’s coin so enticing? I assume you would be the one to ask.
To Charon, be wary. When you try to take the last thing one has left, be it the whole or a fragment, they will fight with a terrible fury to protect it. Mammon’s treasures are all that he has left to value, and he bears a Key. Then again, this warning would do just as well for the rest of the heist crew.
To Kassardis of his tale, I am happy to know it ends well. Not well in the sense that it ends happily, but in that Kassardis finds his peace. On my homeworld and many others, the phrase would be something like, “finding the calm in the eye of the storm.” The storm ever rages, ever moves, ever tears apart the sea and land and sky. Seek not to flee from it, but rather find the calm within; there, you shall find refuge, and perhaps some fleeting power over that storm.
The first snare of the Great Enemy is called Empire; by fear is it born, by fear is it sustained, and by fear it dies.
The second snare of the Great Enemy is called Stagnation, which binds not through fear of others, but through fear of self. To take a single goal, and attempt to stretch it far enough to bind infinity. To not only deny the possibility of change, but to luxuriate in its impossibility. To believe the past an inviolate prison, and the future no more than a continuation of what has gone before.
One coin in one’s possession, dear Arkwright, outshines all the jewels of Heaven for its splendor, and falls more heavily than the judgement of Zoss. And yet the ten thousandth is of less concern than a discarded toenail.
Consider: how wretched and debased must be the creature whose billionth coin is of equal value to the first.
If the Goldfish sees beyond
the boundaries of their pond
will they grown or keep their bond?
I would take it this is not directed at I.
But yes, to steal one’s fate; likened to their power of a word… Is to invite terrible fury none-the-less. And frankly? Not worth the time unless they are weaker than you.
One is tempted to draw the conclusion that Mammon’s lack of emotion is a way to cope, a defense mechanism against the way he was ostracized by his fellow beings.
To be spat on by one’s own kin as a young Dragon would surely cut him deeply.
Wow. You are phenomenal with short stories.
This is a 7 deadly sins thing isn’t it. We’ve already had Glorious Mottom and her GLUTTONY (although PRIDE, beautiful PRIDE, also had a semblance of occurrence in her court), Incubus with his beloved LUST, JUGGERNAUTS holy WRATH, and now MAMMONS well placed GREED. I wonder what the other delecious sins we will encounter as Al Yis Un learns that the only true virtue is VIOLENCE.
Consider ye the nature of this universe, that these to be extolled as virtues; and one realizes these are holy saints. And that the truest and most virtuous is VIOLENCE itself.
Amusing, but alas; being removed from the wheel for my own crass mistakes makes it so I can only post on this strange medium…
With regard to Mottom, her “gluttony” was related to her gross and excessive consumption to the point of waste (killing an entire planet for their wood, probably to make something like a teacup cabinet or something). It wasn’t only her own court that was guilty of this, but she herself as well. But though they did it so that they could continue to live out their lavish wives, she did it so that she could get over her fear of death, her intense feelings of nihilism. There was no no way that Mottom could continue her campaign of ripping up and harvesting worlds forever; for sure, had Allison not appeared, it would have continued on for a long, long, long time. But it’d end, one day. The way she ruled just couldn’t be sustained and, just like her increasingly ineffective method for immortality, she’d only be able to see both her lifeline and kingdom slowly be ground away into nothing. Allison simply pushed up the deadline.
Be it known that PRIDE is a feature of Solomon David, SLOTH is Jadis (entombed in glass), and ENVY is Gog-Agog. It has been written, and is the most glorious of lies for being so inscribed.
…to a limited extent. the Seven have all failed at a step along the path to Royalty. And superficially, their faults appear as the Seven we know and fear.
Solomon David bears pride. Gog-Agog bears envy. Jadis bears sloth. But much as the Imperatrix at the Gates of Fire’s gluttony was but a superficial covering for the terror that rules her heart, I think you will find the demiurges more complex than your simple sins allow.
Consider the tale of the Silver Prince. And consider the story if Kassardis, upon arrival to the ashes of Samura, made it his mission to hurl himself upon the blades of his wives. An ending, yes. An ending to the pain of his existence, in a universe where violence is the only inescapable truth. But a selfish one, and one without possibility of change.
Consider Pankrator Jagganoth.
And consider what hidden spring could produce such an all-encompassing rage.
Solomon David is prideful, believing himself to be just and right. Gog-Agog is vanity, putting on her facade of humanity. Jadis is sloth, with her infite repose behind the glass.
That was well established many dead ages ago
Forgive this poor Preator his vanities, I simply observe what is placed before me. Alas that the NAILS allow no other actions.