Seeker of Thrones 9-109
“Once, on the road, Prim met a meditating sage who had spent most of his life on top of a flat rock. They had black bread and shared some ajash, as was custom. The sage was thankful, as the road was not very frequently traveled in those days and he was very near the point of starvation. During his conversation, he was delighted to learn of Prim’s extensive mastery of Empty Palms and the fifty five earthly purities. Delighted, and as payment for his meal, he taught Prim the meaning of watchfulness.
This was the old breathing and cold-atum technique often used by warrior monks in those days. It ran through the following methodology:
Build a tower, and make it impregnable. Make every stone so tightly sealed that no insect can squeeze through, no grain of sand can make it inside. Your tower must have no windows or doors. It must not accept passage by friend or foe. No weapon, no act of violence, and not one mote of love may penetrate its stony interior.
“Why build the tower this way?” said Prim?
“It will make you invincible,” said the sage, “This is the way of Ya-at slave monks. Their skin is like iron, and so are their hearts. They are inured to death and fear. Grief shall never find them, and neither shall weakness.”
Prim thought a moment, and came upon a realization, for she was wise, obedient, and an excellent daughter. “If a man built a tower this way, he would quickly starve, no matter how strong he became.”
The sage was even more delighted. “Yes,” he said, “There is a better way, and I will teach it to you:
Once you have built your tower, you must deconstruct it, brick by brick, stone by stone. You must do it meticulously and carefully, so that while you leave no physical trace of it remaining, your tower is still built in your mind and your heart, ready to spring anew at a moment’s notice.
You can enjoy the fresh air, and eat fine meals, and enjoy a good drink with your friends, but all the while your tower remains standing. You are both prisoner and warden. This is the hardest way, but the strongest.”
Prim saw the wisdom in this, and quickly made to return to the road, but the sage stopped her before she left.
“As you to your earlier remark,” the sage said, “The man who builds his tower but cannot take it apart again – that man is at the pinnacle of his strength. But that man will surely perish.”
– Prim Masters the Road
A mind, they say, is a terrible thing to waste.
This explains why he wasn’t on the meeting.
The count is all.
It’s very possible that Mammon didn’t even choose to send a surrogate to the meeting. He’s so unaware of himself or what matters, he attends to none of the affairs of his own empire. The priests, instead, received the summons to the meeting, and responded of their own accord, without consulting their god emperor.
For truly, it is best not to borrow His Worshipful Majesty with such trifles. The Count consumes him, and he wouldn’t remember the meeting the moment it would be time to set out, anyway.
Another commentator floated the idea a while back that Mammon had actually been dead the entire time, and this more or less amounts to the same thing. I’d say it’s almost certain that the Priests of the Count have been running the show for a long time.
Considering I’m not laughing, I’m surprised just how hilarious I find this.
I’m not even sure what that means.
But got damn that a good reveal
Will it become certain that all seven are terminally tired?
A crown is a heavy burden.
Solomon seems too smug to be tired or sad. But we’ll see, I suppose.
The weight of commitment
and other facets of snow
require attention; beware avalanche
I love the stories below the comic almost as much as the comic itself.
I feel as though the Grand Dragon himself stands below his counted court.
His bureaucracy his grown so engorged, it itself has lost sight of its original purpose. Their leader is a figurehead, too forgetful and consumed with his personal obsessions to bother with normal affairs. When his priests interact with him at all, it is to humor the doddering old man, while the priests attend to his empire themselves.
Did Mammon himself send that emissary to the meeting of Demiurges? Or did the priests receive the summons, and attend to it themselves? Is Mammon even AWARE of a world outside his hoard? Would he remember five minutes later, if you deigned to tell him?
ah yes, the wisdom of age, sweet erosion of the higher mind, leaving only simple purpose and existance. i too wish to arrive to that point.
Longtime reader, first time commenting. I have to say, I’ve loved what you’ve done with the Demiurges. Even with the short amount of screen time each has gotten they’ve been compelling, intriguing characters, each surprising in their own way.
Bearer of the word TOWER, you say? Well, actually I can see it now…
And I really like how this scene turned out to be.
This is the Horror of Bureaucracy, that which puts form to function and regulation to activity, until Purpose atrophies and all that remains is the rote repetition of meaningless ritual. ‘Tis a truly terrible thing to behold, watching a god degraded to simple compulsion, like a child that refuses to sleep without their nightlight.
Dragon not so bad after all ^_^
also, blind I guess? because of his white eyes?
WHEN NEED BECOMES HABIT, AND HABIT IS NO LONGER NEEDED, ONE OFTEN LOSES SIGHT OF WHY THEY WERE DOING SOMETHING IN THE FIRST PLACE.
ONCE, A TALE WAS RELATED TO ME. A HUMAN MOTHER USED TO ALWAYS CUT A TURKEY DOWN TO A SIZE BEFORE PUTTING IT INTO AN OVEN. IRONICALLY ENOUGH, HER DAUGHTER DID THIS AS WELL AS A RESULT. THE DAUGHTER’S HUSBAND ONCE ASKED ABOUT THIS: AND SHE DID NOT KNOW WHY. SO ONE DAY, SHE ASKED HER MOTHER WHY SHE DID IT.
THE MOTHER RESPONDED “OH, THAT IS BECAUSE THE OVEN WASN’T BIG ENOUGH, SO I HAD TO CUT IT DOWN TO SIZE.”
HOW IRONIC: IN THE CONSTRUCTION OF A TOWER, YOU MAY NOT ONLY JUST ENTRAP YOURSELF, BUT OTHERS! TRULY, A TOWER CAN REMAIN FOR GENERATIONS!
I find no comfort in discovering the dragon is so… amiable.
All the gold in existence cannot buy you all of Time, for just as there is bound to be an end of gold, there is to be an end of Time.
This… this seems like it’s going to take a turn for the very sad momentarily.
How fascinating. Has Mammon forgotten want?
That the lord of greed would find some degree of contentment is quite interesting.
Well, now I’m conflicted.
The old man thinks on his long life.
Am I happy?
Did I do what I wanted?
Was my time spent well?
Hmmmmmm…
The old man thinks some more.
What sorrow there is in owning everything, yet having nothing.
What more sorrow is there, to own the world, yet lose yourself.
Reminds me a bit of the part in The Hobbit where Smaug sniffs out the invisible Bilbo. Only with a very old and very depressed dragon
He sounds more like a sweet old man than an eldritch beast of terrifying implications… Can he be my grandpa?
Sure.
If I can have Hipster-Santa Zoss as my grandpa.
the dragon, the guardian of treasure is no more. all that is left is the memory of the dragon that was, a pale shade of greed. and there is no treasure in the world that can quench the thirst of a memory
Old, possibly senile, giant dragon grandpa is best dragon grandpa.
Old, possibly senile, giant dragon grandpa, is best grandpa.