Wielder of Names 4-65
Once, on the road, Prim met a mendicant sage. The sage was chewing umbral blossoms and sitting in a ditch, filthy and ragged. Curious, Prim crouched down and asked the man what he was doing, for the day was quite hot, and there were beasts and worse about.
“What makes a man the most powerful?” said the sage. “I’ve wondered about this question for a good three days now. I’ve scarcely drunk a drop, or eaten a morsel, or got a moment’s sleep!” Prim itched to leave and continue her journey, but instead gave the man water and sat beside him, as at one point in her life she had been an excellent daughter, and old habits die exceedingly hard.
“Is is the strength of a man’s arm?” said the sage, “Is it the timbre of his voice? Is it his luminous gaze? Is it the way the light strikes his face?”
Prim was sure it was none of these things, and told the man so. “I thought as much,” said the sage, “so I considered further. Is the root of power buried in the soil of violence? Must it be nourished with blood? But many violent men are overthrown with ease by those who use only words. So it must not be so. Does power lie in the throat, then? Does a truly powerful man keep it in his body like a deep and mighty lake, boiling and bubbling in his guts, only to spill forth when he parts his steaming lips?”
Prim was certain it was none of these things, and told the man so. The sage nodded and continued, chewing on his leaf. “I think so too,” he said. “In truth, my conclusion is that the most powerful of men are neither wholly violent, nor strong of voice. The most powerful of men are radiant. Their power suffuses the air around them, and enslaves the will of others around them, by their own unwilling consent. It is an illusory power, which makes it all the more dangerous, since it feeds off belief. Such a man can kill without thinking, if he so chooses. He is sovereign from the laws of other men.”
“What do you think?” asked the sage, looking equal parts exhausted and pleased. Prim didn’t have an answer. “Well, none of that! I’ve been on this for three days!” sputtered the sage. “Which do you think? The violent man, the vocal man, or the radiant man?”
Prim thought of the violent men who had passed through her father’s house, and the iron rod of her father, with which he had not been sparing. She thought of the silken-voiced men that whispered near her father’s hearth. And she thought of the royal men, who came in processions to consult with her father, carried on their palanquins.
“None of them,” said Prim, at last.
“What?” said the sage, aghast.
“The most powerful man has the capability to be violent, charismatic, or sovereign, all,” said Prim, “but he chooses to be none of them, because if he does, he has become cruel, and a cruel man has lost all claim to power.”
She stood up and dusted herself off. “If God were a mere fisherman, he would earn my respect,” said Prim. She gathered her things and returned to the road, leaving her canteen with the sage, who remained there a day longer. He then gave up on the question, and later abandoned his sage’s rags to become a successful farmer.
– The Song of Maybe
Pree Prim seems to have wisdom blossoming within.
They’re all wearing her hat! By Yisun’s nose hair, they’re all wearing that same bloody hat!
The form of hers we previously saw was the shade she cast in the void. So, apparently, though her soul appears all distorted and evil, she’s been able to keep her body looking young and fair.
That, or this is a puppet or a disguise.
The alt-text lied! It looks like the good king will be lasting for THREE pages rather than two :V
(Well, I guess it depends on whether “lasting” is counted from page beginning or page end.)
Someone’s got appearances to keep up.
I figured she probably had some kind of glamour going on.
Ah! It seems the Mercy of Mother Om is as pure and consummate as her beauty.
Ouch. That’s the worst insult. The guy obviously came there to just spit in her face and end it all, and then the pompous bitch doesn’t even give him that.
A tender mercy is granted when one is not forced to watch his people die.
Even if it is only because he is already dead.
Only the truly powerful can choose to grant the greatest mercy: to turn away from power—from sovereignty and violence—and allow others to flourish as they will. God as a king is a poor god indeed.
Mercy is not turning away from power. Mercy is an exercise of power.
When you hold a blade to a man’s throat, but decide to spare his life, he is no less defeated than if you took off his head.
Indeed, hence why I said that it is the powerful who can grant mercy. The most powerful has the capacity to grant the greatest mercy; that is, not allowing or indulging in the domination of other wills. A merciful God is a god that becomes a hermit.
You believe a kingdom without a king to be merciful? The seven are the result of a vacant throne.
Three of the emissaries in panel 2 are shocked at Pryam Sor’s boldness. The fourth just realized how paltry her offering is in comparison to his. Identification of the latter is left as an exercise for the reader.
Seeing how her key glows, this kingling is going o have a bad time.
Also I dig Mottom’s style. If I hadn’t seen her twisten rotten form, I’d have a crush on her.
Oh, who am I kidding? Ofc you’re cute, Nadia-chan! <3
ah i forgot to say, your art just keeps driving increasingly nuts, those everything you do, wow
She said “mercy”! Run you fools!!
I revise my earlier confidence. This could be a double with a lesser key, or it could be a glamour, or her true physical form- where her previous appearance was the void showing her true self.
However, I continue to suspect that the next page will involve that fork and terrible violence.
The Good King starts to fall for the Goddess’ beauty & charms. Illusion!
Our Heroine with the Key reveals Queen Mottom’s true nature & Name.
All Lies.
Thus the Good King wakens. Again.
Oooooh. So it’s her soul that is a rotting hag. But yeah, he dead, likely due to the definition of “mercy”.
Oh. That poor, dumb son of a bitch just forgot to enumerate his offering. He just gave her ALL the bones of his people.
UT OH
We observe a chill in the uttering of that word Mercy that penetrates to the very core of our æther.
This guy is SO fucked
To quote the indescribable Mr. Popo: HE DEAD!
My prediction? She’s playing the court. She offers “mercy”, the king knows the way Mottom truly is and throws her supposed generosity back in her face, and she is justified in exploding his head while maintaining an appearance of goodness. “How could anyone blame her for headsploding him? He insulted a divinity when she was kind enough to forgive his first insult! Such restraint – she would have been justified in ending him after the first slur on her honor!” – that sort of narrative is what she wants.
Pree Liza is most wise.
At least the man got out a damn good speech before his destruction. The multiverse is rarely so kind.
I like the short story but mentions of child abuse always make me cringe… D8
“The most powerful man has the capability to be violent, charismatic, or sovereign, all,” said Prim, “but he chooses to be none of them, because if he does, he has become cruel, and a cruel man has lost all claim to power.”
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the Earth.
As a raven once put it: Casterfight! Casterfight!