I am the crown and the wisdom, the understanding and the mercy. I am the strength and the beauty, the victory and the splendor. I am the foundation and the kingdom. I am who I am.
Act 1:
The earth was in complete darkness, on a moonless night. He looked up at the sky; could see a star falling over the horizon. Its light faintly illuminated the entire face of the earth.
Half of his body was submerged in mud, a thick black liquid. Only the trees stood out among the dark forest. He crawled through the swamp with no apparent direction, moving solely out of fear.
He moved for a few minutes, then hours, and then what appeared to be days. In the distance, he saw what appeared to be a large mountain rising above the trees. The mud suffocated him, and he sank slowly.
As he approached the mountain, the air became increasingly dense with smoke. The plague smelled like burned flesh. The trees vanished quickly, and he began to see half-collapsed houses and mud-covered ruins. The smell intensified with each step he took.
With the plague came distant screams, which he heard deep inside his mind. They appeared from everywhere, but he couldn't see anyone. Cries of despair, screams, moans, and laughs. All at once. The smoke turned reddish, as if it had come from a huge bonfire.
There were shadows all around him. They had no shape, whispering in his ears. They were just eyes and mouths with no color. Their whispers were incomprehensible. The shapes of those shadows started to come together. They drowned with him, writhing in the mud and among the ruins. They got closer, grabbed him all over, and pulled him down. A lot of sticky hands all over his body.
He sank into the oil and slowly drowned. His vision was completely dark. He lost all of his senses. Only one image came to mind: a cross-shaped medallion swinging over the water like a pendulum. A big red stone was in the middle. It moved back and forth a lot, like a pendulum. Every time it hit the water, more pictures came to mind: beams of light that made no sense. More and more laughs, smiles that are hard to believe, and colorful beams that go all the way to the horizon.
A red light beam started to take over, repeating itself over and over. The same scene: a humanoid coming up from the dirt and rocks. A person with big red armor on them: steam came out of it. It looked like it had big metal wings. The titan stood up like a tower. Its chest glowed brightly, like a hatch opening, and the flesh inside pulsed and gave off a yellowish light.
Another figure appeared, just as large, with a white silhouette; a splendor. It delivered a powerful blow and lunged at him; they were two gods fighting, two fruits of the same tree. The smoke was so dense that the fight could barely be seen, and the blows produced clouds of steam.
The medallion sped up and up until all that could be seen was the shining stone. His vision was filled with that scarlet, reddish, and orange hue. Big clouds moved through the empty space, looking like stains in a white sky. It was like watching paint in water. Strokes on a canvas.
Stroke by stroke, he filled the whole canvas with that mix. He painted the outline of the red titan's head and torso, paying close attention to every detail, just like in his dream. He was done with the painting, but he wasn't happy with it. —It's too neat. This is not how dreams are. —He took his brush and mixed the paint. —I think I like it there now. He put his tools away on a small piece of furniture.
The room was filled with canvases. There are paintings of a man, a lion, a bull, an eagle, a great tree, a vase, the sun, a snake, a pine nut, and a black cube. There are so many different works that all use the same method. He took off his apron and put it with his other things. —Vanrra! Vanrra! Do you hear me? Hey, are you there? —He heard those voices coming from below.
Vanrra left right away. His hair was a deep black color and had some curls. It went down to his neck. He was about twenty years old. His face was fine, and his nose was straight and soft. His eyebrows and gaze were strong and straight, just like the rest of his face. The mouth was small, and the lips were a little dry. He was wearing a worn leather jacket, plain pants, and boots. The patriarch of the village was waiting for him downstairs. He was sitting in the middle of the room, as usual. A big mandala was sewn onto the wall behind his chair, covering the whole thing. It looked like a rose with big petals
The large house was made of wood and stone, and lanterns illuminated the hallways. The floor was perfectly varnished, and the walls were immaculately clean and well-maintained. There was no furniture or paintings to decorate the space. The servants went from place to place as usual.
—What's missing from the big day? —His voice was that of an elderly man. His beard was white and full. A man was by his side, and the old man held him with one of his arms. His gaze was lost. Seven more men surrounded him.
The man responded. —Everything is ready, boss; all we need is for the girls to finish adjusting the dress. —His voice sounded deep. He had a broad chest and large muscles. He was a hairy man whose hair was partially reddish and dull in tone. He immediately noticed his friend's arrival. —You've finally arrived, workaholic.
—What do you want?
—Were you extremely busy?
The patriarch said to him. —Vanrra, I am glad you are here.
He greeted the other men with a gesture. —Why did you call me?
The elderly man was not in his best health. —Can I call you?
The red-haired man spoke to him. —Have you forgotten another important day? My special day was unique and unparalleled. You should be happy.
—Happy?
The old man hit the ground with his cane. —Vanrra, do not be rude. Esau is getting married tomorrow; please congratulate him.
—I've been congratulating him for three years.
—I appreciate him more than you realize, especially coming from a madman. —He approached and gave him a friendly hug.
Esau had goosebumps. Vanrra said to him. —You're nervous.
—Is it so obvious?
—You resemble a tomato.
—The happiest tomato in the world.
—The world? It's pretty obvious.
—A tomato and a madman; who knew we'd get this close? Would you have expected it?
—It was one of the greatest things that could have happened to me.
One of the people present said. —Vanrra, did you try on the suit I gave you? We don't want you to show up wearing those rags. Tomorrow, you must present yourself as best you can; perhaps then you will be able to impress a girl.
—You're the only ones who need to look presentable when flirting. Do you really believe I need that?
They replied. —Whatever you say, darling.
Esau gave him a pat on the back. —We take it as a compliment.
Another of the men commented. —It's good that we're not missing anything anymore.
The patriarch used his cane to attract attention. He addressed Esau. —You're forgetting anything?
—No, I do not think so. The food, flowers, and musicians are all prepared. We've installed everything... —The patriarch removed something from his large robes and handed it to Esau. —Is this a pine nut? An ordinary pine nut. I was never sure what they were for.
—I want you to give it to Mahia and tell her to put it on her dress. It represents something very important; it is the key to everything.
Esau passed the pine nut to Vanrra. —Brother, you do it; you know I can't see the bride until tomorrow.
—I'm always their messenger.
One of the people present mocked him. —That is what the village madman does. —Vanrra appeared ready to start a fight. —You really believe you can tickle me, weakling? —You look so adorable!
Esau stood between them. He pushed the other man away. —Don't pay him any attention; this is for our friendship. Also, this could be your last message; after tomorrow, you won't be needed anymore. You will finally be free of my romantic troubles. —He patted him on the back. —The conclusion of your martyrdom.
He spoke to himself. —This is just the start of a new one. —He started for the door.
The old man spoke to him. —Oh! Vanrra, I nearly forgot. What have you painted today?
He remembered the children's screams from deep within. —I painted something I saw in my last dream: a... massive red giant.
—A red giant? What was it like?
—It was huge, taller than a windmill. It was a vibrant red with numerous yellow lights. It had what appeared to be wings.
They made mocking gestures. —It appears you haven't lost your mind.
The elderly man continued. —Wings? A giant with wings?
—That's how it appeared, but they were extremely rigid. It wore armor and a war helmet.
—Have you ever had a dream about a titan?
—A titan? —The word took everyone by surprise.
—I know an old story. It is said that a long, long time ago, titans walked the earth. Giants are dozens or even hundreds of meters tall. They dedicated themselves to terrorizing and devouring humanity.
—Devour? They eat humans?
—That's what the legend says.
Esau asked him. —What was the origin of the titans?
—They fell from the sky. Fallen angels. People from heaven who slept with women; from that sinful union, the Titans were born.
The man with red hair answered. —Thanks for never telling me that story when I was a child, old man. I can't even think of the nightmares I would have had.
Vanrra was interested. —What did people do to beat the Titans?
—Beat? No, nothing like that. We had no chance against those monsters; humanity was about to go extinct. They were exterminated by a great flood, a deluge that covered the entire world. A cleaning done by God.
—God? Who is God?
The old man was left catatonic, with a blank stare and no movement. The men came over to help him after a few awkward seconds. —Help! Get in touch with a doctor! —All of the servants came right away. He was still breathing. They took the old man straight to bed. This wasn't the first time.
Vanrra wanted to accompany the elderly man. His friend stopped him. —You've got things to do. Do not worry. He'll be as good as new by the afternoon, old man things.
—I want continue asking him questions.
—Do you want to learn more about these stories? Go ask the children. They are nonsense.
—Of course not; it's just that he'd never told me anything about the village's history. Do you know anything about the history of the world?
—History? Is that important? I'm getting married tomorrow; I couldn't care less about those stories.
—You claim you know nothing?
—What is nothingness? Does that exist? What does "not knowing anything" mean to you?
—Do you know who founded this village? How long ago? Are there other towns beyond the mountains? You think we are the only ones in the world?
He rubbed his chin. —Now that you say that, I never thought about it before. I don't know anything that isn't in the mountains. I've been to some towns, but none across the mountains. This valley is my whole life. But I guess if there are more people, what's that doctor's name? The one who lives in the mountain...
—Hiram.
—You get along with him very well; you're the only one who goes to see him. He came from outside and got here about three years ago, not long after you did. You should also know what's outside; you were supposedly born outside.
Vanrra was a little uneasy. —It's been three years already; time flies.
—True. I forget that you're not from these valleys, so maybe that's why you're like this. Someone who forgets things, even their own name.
—Yes, it might be because I'm not from here. I wish I could remember. But aren't you still curious? To understand this world? What is in it? How did it come to be?
—It wouldn't help me at all. It's better to raise cattle.
— I don't understand how you can live like that, not knowing what you're doing. Like a total madman.
—If I'm mad, then everyone else in this village is too.
—Then I'm the only one who is sane.
—Whatever you say, nut.