He was a hero, he had no legs, nor arms. He fought in the Battle for Talamina, or so he said, whenever that took place, and he was revered as a holy relic. People came from all over the known world to adore him, and threw stuffed chickens at him, and coconuts, and baked coffee beans, some even gold! They would plead with him for well-being, or sexual arousal, and one had crooked limbs, another a stiff back, a local murderer had escaped the fetter house, and would the oracle I’m presently begging smite him with the mightiest of lightnings? and so on.
His name was Ascinto, his legs and arms had been left on a rocky island, off the coast of the Land of Figs, where he had met an Angel; and the Angel got a bit upset, being the guardian of that place and a bit concerned about humans messing again in his boss’ garden.
Talamina was the name of the local Oracle and a renowned sacred prostitute. She served her fair lady Inanna, goddess of sex and war. It was she, the Oracle, who transmitted to the ancients the idea of having small images of people fucking in every possible position carved on seals. These were the most ancient commercial business cards from the sun-smitten Holy Land. And so the pornographic industry picked up people’s imagination, and pretty quickly lots of perverts, transfixed by the sheer quality of the sacred sex on offer, jumped onto the wagon, some even got rich very fast. Eventually, the competition became so excruciating that Talamina all of a sudden found herself broke. It must be said that, at the time of our story, she already was very old, like an old rag she had withered away, she was rugged and weather-beaten, with scruffy hair. Her tits were sooo long she could make a knot out of them and toss the knot onto her back. And she often did, when she would wash her hair. She was revolting, and she rarely hit a successful prediction anymore.
She was over.
And so, when she saw Ascinto lying at the feet of the Angel she saw the Potential. She picked up the trunk with a head, wrapped it up in a white linen cloth, dumped the package in a wheelbarrow, and left for home. Her home was a cave, and she had all the things necessary to act out like an oracle. Fumigants and oils, make-ups and thunder-sounding lead slabs hanging from the ceiling, jars of unguents, lapis lazuli powder for the incontinent, fermented eyes of spider for the demented, and so on. She hollered: “NO MORE!” and then a shadow retreated to the recess of the cave, the dormant fireplace picked up heat again, and the vault was lit up once more. She tossed the content of the wheelbarrow onto the floor. It sloshed and smeared the gravel with blood.
“You shall live, I tell you trunk! It is my duty and hope.”
Talamina started applying medical oil to the bleeding parts of the truncated body. She cast a spell on it while rubbing. She got up and went to the larder, picked up a jar with some powder, and blew it into the nostrils of the limbless thing. “I shall see to you, my treasure. A godsend from an angel, from the great Metatron! You shall live I TELL YOU!” – she screamed and screamed, bumping and grinding like crazy, blowing powder all over the place, and in the end the head started wiggling, and the voice of Ascinto could be heard:
“Why did you resuscitate me old witch?” – he spat a glob of blood.
Then he was crying. But the witch couldn’t hear him, her heart having plunged into the Abyss as she was now feeling near-death.
The magic had worked.
“You shall see Ascinto that my home can be very cosy and warm, if you could only follow me for a minute…” – Ascinto was presently rolling on the floor.
“I thought I fixed your seat alright!”
The witch was getting mad at him.
“There’s nothing I can do!” – he complained.
His face fell onto a smear of rattlesnake bile that mixed with his tears.
“Yes there is. I told you, the head is the heaviest part of our body, in proportion to all the rest of course, and if you just take enough care to keep balance by ever so slightly move your head according to the shifting centre of balance, then voilà, I mean, you’re not going to roll over all the time.”
“I say you are just a MAD COW!! Why the hell did you resuscitate me in the first place!? To have me roll over like a dumb manikin in your spit and animal venom on the freaking floOOor!?”
Ascinto was crying again.
She sat by him, lifted up his head and laid it gently on her lap. He had the most harmonious face, his eyes were fierce and blue, she couldn’t explain why but she felt transported by him.
“Please tell me!” – he begged, and sobbed.
She reached for his lower belly, and started caressing him.
“Why you do this to me?” – he asked in vain – “Oooah, I… Hey, wait a minute! AH! Aaah ah aaaaah ah ah… Well, alright then, yes… like so, yes, yes, YES! Keep on going, a bit more, don’t slow down. Perfect! Keep going… O GOD! O MY LORDSHIP and all the angels, YES! O gosh, yes, o yes… o my god, god bless…” – he fell asleep.
The shadow returned from the recess of the cavern, as everyone was now going to their beds. It slimed its way through the crevices, it crawled underneath the furniture, and sank into the pool only to re-emerge a second after, it kissed Ascinto’s belly, ascended the length of his trunk, and sneaked into his ear:
“Wakey wakey, you fool!” – it hissed.
“What’s that?”
“My name is Nimbiz, I am the shadow master. I’m gonna tell you a secret, and now you listen very carefully.”
He was listening.
“The witch can give you your limbs back if she so chooses. Remember she used to be a powerful oracle, she was revered and all. This is a derelict place now. I am fed up with all the loneliness and the deadness of it. Once it used to be crowded, and full of freaks, no offence, and interesting! Now, it doesn’t make sense anymore. It’s not fun, I mean, could you please just consider this fact…” – it paused.
Ascinto was tired, very tired.
“Don’t you dare fall asleep on me!!” – hissed the shadow again. A good hiss, it almost made Ascinto go deaf. But it was all inside of his ears, no one else could hear, not the witch, who was snoring like the whole place had been built on top of a tube station.
“I say LISTEN TO ME, you mortal fool!”
Ascinto opened his eyes, he was paying attention.
“You beg the witch to give you your limbs back. You kill the witch. You are free, I am free. What you say?”
“Mmmph…” – he rolled something in his mouth, then spat a glob of blood. A bit darker than before.
“Your blood is getting darker, you’ll soon be dead anyway. The magic lasts only so long, unless you make a commitment to live, but you seem to be pretty miserable, and I see that you would rather die. I’m just telling you that it doesn’t have to be this way.”
Ascinto hesitated a bit. He was worried that the shadow might be just right, what had he to lose anyway? and so…
“Ok then…” – and fell asleep, exhausted.
When Ascinto awoke he was all strapped and latched onto a wooden plank that kept him erect. He found himself standing on the same spot that previously belonged to the venerable Oracle: a raised stone platform that acted as the altar for worship and pleading. He was wrapped up in silk clothes, deep blue and crimson, a reminder of the sea that witnessed his mutilation, and of the plentiful blood he had spilled only to become a venerable relic himself. Fumigants were fumigating, the lead slabs were thundering away, and that got him awake.
“Will you please stop THAT? I beg!”
Talamina stopped. The gear was working fine. She unclutched the ropes that connected to the slabs, and addressed him:
“I came up with this charming story. It’s good for marketing purposes, you know? I thought that we could sell this act like some sort of rendition of a gentle maid-warrior rescuer sort of drama. Yes, we’ll say that you were not just passing by the glorious Metatron and then got butchered for no particular reason at all, which sounds pretty lame, you see, we shall say instead that you came to my rescue, and that it was the majestic Inanna who commanded you so. And that will help keep the tradition of my fair lady alive, and then I won’t have to wither away like a destitute witch!” – she was clapping her hands.
Ascinto spat another glob of blood. It seemed darker now, almost black. It freaked him out for a moment, and the words of Nimbiz came to him like a shaft of hope. So he overcame his pride and disgust, and breathed in deeply as if to embolden himself. Then he spat out:
“O purest of the Oracles, o Nurturer of my miserable life!” – Talamina was now dancing in frenzy rapture. She wasn’t paying any attention to him.
“I BEG YOU!” – he screamed on top of his lungs. Talamina came out of her joyful bliss and set her eyes on him. He continued:
“Please, o my gracious Oracle, give my limbs back to me, for they were my dearest companions in battle, and it never occurred to me to give them praise on behalf of their usefulness BUT NOW! when I am crippled and deprived of them. And I…”
“That is out of the question!” – interrupted the witch. “You aware this may spoil the whole marketing idea!? How shall I live without a source of income? You tell ME!”
“I thought you loved me dearly Talamina, like I DO love you!” – that came as tough to say, very much. He went on:
“If it is really so, like I hope, I beg you! There is only one thing that I count as dearest right now, and that is my limbs. I beg you, o graceful Oracle…” – Ascinto drowsed.
The magic was starting to fade away. But the witch, once more, wasn’t paying any attention, she was a bit insane with age, you know?
“We shall say that you fought the Battle for Talamina!” – she pressed on. “O what a brilliant idea I just had right here and now!” – oozing self esteem – “And that is because, of course, it makes no harm to entitle a battle to a venerable Oracle anyway, what you think dummy?”
No reply. She went close to him, and slapped him really hard. Ascinto woke up, and it seemed to the witch that those fierce blue eyes were flaming contempt at her. Still, he could function well enough for the moment, and it was about time to test her new toy.
“Please do come by, you derelict plebes! Seek solace from the hardships of your miserable lives! And come to my cosy cave, and admire the new Oracle of the Land! Come admire the saviour of Inanna’s sweetest daughter, that is ME! The hero who fought the invincible Metatron, despising his own life in order to come and rescue my humble bones! He fought the bravest of battles, the battle that now carries my own very name, the mighty Battle for Talamina!”
“How vain…!” – whispered an old woman, matter-of-factly, to her neighbour.
The witch was on the streets first thing in the morning, shouting at every soul she met, advertising the showcase event, spreading the gospel of this new powerful Oracle that would again bring fame and richness to the Land. She was giving away free cookies to the kids, and free erotic seals of her own making to the adults. The latter going like nuts about those dirty things! And the more crippled you were, the more she would shout at you.
“Come and regain your lost sexual prowess! Straighten up your lifeless stick! Because all this can the new Oracle grant you, if he so chooses!” – she said to this chap.
“Alright then…” – he replied following her with his limp.
She felt in high spirits again, very active, and ready to roll once more. She would challenge this rotten unbelieving ancient world! that despised her more than feared her. And she would astonish all those who lost faith in her powers, and she would prove them all wrong!
She felt hot, and a bit crazy like.
And so around noon an unhealthy procession began: of crippled and deformed, and of women accompanying their ashamed husbands, and sex maniacs from the industry and amateur ones, and women who just wanted to tell their neighbours, and journalists, and TV personalities, and so on, and all this variegated crowd was queuing at the entrance of Talamina’s cave. It was a miserable and depraved sight, but for the witch that meant offerings of food, and fragrances, and maybe she could even gather a few shekels of gold! Her eyes were glowing, while Ascinto’s eyes felt very heavy and he just wanted to sleep for good, and not think much about anything. But there he stood on the stone altar, surrounded by choking fumes and half-listening to the miserable types who proceeded in front of him.
The witch had come up with an ingenious device to deliver answers and consolation to the afflicted plebes. She would hide underneath the altar, and after a pleading had ended, she would slip a dried leaf through a slit at the feet of Ascinto, and every leaf had a different message, and he was meant to pronounce those words aloud. And every message would deliver the same script: you shall go in peace, your pleading shall be granted, and, by the way, don’t forget to leave your offerings at the feet of the altar, and you can go now, thank you very much.
And this went on until sunset appeared.
And so, when the very first darkness started pouring from the Deep and spilled over the earth, and then the earth was once again covered like with a linen cloth, or something like that the Sumerians used to say, Talamina decided it was time to retreat and to start counting the treasures she had newly acquired. But there was only this one man left in the line. And he looked like a brute. He wouldn’t move. He just stood there at the entrance, towering like an oversized ogre, and he would make it impossible for the old woman to shut the gate. He had stuck a wedge of wood next to the doorjamb, and wouldn’t take it out.
“Why are you showing such disrespect for a sacred place, you fool! We must close! The Oracle is exhausted for the day! You know you shall suffer the consequences of your actions!” – threatened the witch.
“I shall suffer the consequence anyway, if I don’t get anything old witch. I have a very demanding job tonight, very demanding scene indeed.”
“What do I care of your petty excuses? Just leave and be grateful I don’t incinerate you on the spot!”
The brute was very much engaged in thinking through the task that was awaiting him. He was pressed to explain:
“I mean, if you could still do what you would normally do, I mean when you were young and all, you would agree that THAT is demanding. You know, there’s this new director that came here and he likes all sorts of freaky action, and one on top, and two on the side, and swap all the time, and then run like a madman to the other side of the room, and start again, one on top, two on the side, and then they bring in all these new Chinese gadgets, and you know, it’s hard to compete with something that is ALWAYS permanently stiff, and you are just a human, and you get tired, and you just need a break and no one listens, always budget problems, and you stop, and you are out of business! I mean, the competition is excruciating!” – god, it felt tough.
“Tell me about it…” – sighed the witch.
“I mean, please old lady, just give me a chance, will you?”
“Alright then. Come on in, but I warn you. Be quick, and don’t forget to leave your offerings at the feet of the altar.”
“Sure lady, thank you. I appreciate that.”
The brute went in following the old woman, and took the wedge from the doorjamb. Then he stuck it at one extremity of a stick he was carrying with him, and then he lowered his makeshift axe on the woman’s head. She collapsed, but he kept beating her, until he reckoned no breath came out of her mouth. And then a loud shrill pierced the air. It was Nimbiz, the shadow master. He engulfed the vault in an impenetrable darkness. So the brute became scared all of a sudden that he might have angered the Oracle. But Ascinto had passed away long before that. And there was nothing he could have done anyway, being not really an oracle himself. So nothing was happening, and the brute stared grabbing at random in frenzy, and he grabbed and grabbed like a possessed, hoping to get some precious metals in the loot, if Fortune would so grant him .
And then he left.
When Talamina regained conscience, she acknowledged the mess, and thought that that might have been a sign of bad Fortune, and that maybe with her actions she had angered her mistress Inanna. She looked at Ascinto. He was asleep, so very pale. And so, as if struck by a lightning, she realized in the end. It just clicked in her head! And so she shivered, and her heart shrank, and shrank. She now knew all too well that time was ticking away, and that her ideas might well just end up being worth a delusion. He was dying! The Oracle had not very long to live left! And so she revived, and considered her transport for him, and for a moment she dreamt that this one good deed from her could grant her his love. And so she commanded to her heart that Ascinto had to live, and prosper, and be with her, no matter what! How could she lose those eyes? She sighed. And how could she give up that craggy face? And what powerful limbs you shall have my lovely dove! and so on.
And so the witch, without Ascinto’s knowledge or approval, started working on some new magic. A magic so powerful that he would eventually regain his limbs.
“To hell with marketing and all! I shall gain a young lover! and be pleased and make love! And if only I could convince him to stay…!” – sort of sad and delusional in tone.
But it so happened, and it was just by mere accident, her being excited and all, that Talamina let slip an unexpected ingredient in the concoction. It was a very sought-after variety of dried human brain powder, all the way from Ur III, that she looted in the Royal Tombs one night many years ago, when she was still young and brave. Quite an ingredient that was! It gave immortality and reversed a range of effects. And so what the old witch prepared ended up being quite different from what she had planned.
The smearing of oils, and the screaming of spells with all the bumping and grinding all over the place started again, until the witch found herself drowning into the Abyss once more, and then fell into a catatonic state.
It took a few days, but eventually Ascinto’s limbs started growing back. They sprouted like little phocomelic flowers at the beginning, but in the end they developed and bloomed into full-fledged limbs worthy of such a brave warrior as he was. And one day, when he saw that he could stand up if he so chose, he did. He looked for the witch, and he saw her asleep. So he sprang like a battering ram, and charged the old witch in her bed, with all his strength and all the hate he possibly had. And she let him do it, the brute’s attack having weakened her so much. And it was very clear by now that her new love would not have considered spending the rest of his life with her, and that she was so very old, and getting tired of all this coming up all the time with new tricks for a crust of bread, and a prolonged miserable life.
So, while Ascinto was strangling her with his bare hands, the witch so chose to leave her body, and be gone from among the mortals and their sorrows. And she ascended to her lady Inanna, who had been waiting for her all that time, like for the most precious of her lost daughters, and who has been waiting for her ever since: the old witch getting lost on her way to the Heavens, her being a tad bit demented with age, and forgetting where it was that she wanted to go in the first place, and so on. And so Talamina left her body, and then her corpse collapsed like an empty bag. And a loud piercing shrill engulfed the cave.
Darkness fell like a snap.
“Cut the crap, will ya! I did this for you too, mate!”
“Alright then, just conditioned reflexes, you know?” – replied Nimbiz, who was now retreating back to its crevice. But then, at the last split second, as if he had remembered something important, it stuck out its head and said:
“You’re a demigod now Ascinto! I can see it in the Radiance of your face. The old witch not only gave your limbs back, but also made you immortal. You earned it pal! May the gods cherish you forever and ever! I shall soon be free myself!”
“Thanks lad, but I just wanted to enquire with you about the fact that my limbs seem to be slowly shrinking again… Any idea about that?”
“Well, that may well be just a side effect. Just sleep it over, and you’ll see that tomorrow will be an even brighter day!”
And so he did.
He slept it over, and the following day he woke up. It was the early hours of the morning, when silence still dominated the outside wilderness, and no living creature dared venture into the perilous darkness, or so he thought. Ascinto felt a light itching on his arm, and tried to quench it, but there was nothing to quench it with, and nothing to quench either. His arms being gone, and his legs too!
“It seems that the witch has put a counter-spell on you, and that you shall lose your limbs once again in atonement for the killing of a sacred being.” – hissed Nimbiz.
“You never told me that! You sick scavenger of people’s hopes!”
“How could I KNOW!? I’m giving you an educated guess here, pal. Also, it may be, just may be, that this condition of yours, now that you are a demigod, may last forever…” – sort of hesitant, but also pretty much matter-of-fact like.
“What you mean LAST FOREVER!? you MOTHERFUCKER! You liar, and con man! I’ll kill you Nimbiz, I swear I’ll kill you somehow, someday!”
Nimbiz did not reply, he had left already. He was never to be seen any more. He was now free! So the shadows disappeared, and the fire in the middle of the room picked up heat at that most unusual hour of the day, and the cave became all lit up again.
In the meantime, early pleaders were starting to queue outside already, and discussing about this new Oracle of the Land, who all of a sudden was so much HOT again.
He was a hero, he had no legs, nor arms. He fought in the battle for Talamina, or so he said, whenever that took place, and he was revered as a holy relic. People came from all over the known world to adore him, and threw stuffed chickens at him. He never liked chicken, and he was sick of it all. He just wanted to die.
But couldn’t.
(c) 2012 Crugi Smear
smearcrugi@gmail.com
londonunpublishing 