* * *
I spent the next two millennia destroying the Human King. Well, not him, personally. Mostly just his descendents. First I killed him, of course. That was easy thanks to my horde of angry goblins. Then I invaded his capitol, taking special care to keep his pregnant wife alive. I escorted her safely to a backwater farm town on the other side of the world. She did pretty well there.
I waged constant war against all the other races. I attacked just frequently enough to keep my army too small to defeat any of theirs. Over time, I had my goblins tear down various palaces and use the parts to add a few floors to my own tower. That became an ongoing project, and even after two thousand years, it still wasn’t done. As to the human heartland, there wasn’t much left. I burned it, plundered it, sunk it under the sea, and blasted it with an underwater volcano. Sometimes, a teddy bear encased in magma still floats up to the surface of The Sea of the Smitten. Some people think the kingdom still exists.
Meanwhile, I paid close attention to the king’s descendents. I made sure that no more than one male survived each generation. It was a straight, unbroken line. I was well-practiced in pruning family trees, so the hardest part was making sure that the tree kept growing.
Things got interesting when one of the king’s descendants dug up my rib while he was plowing a field. I acted quickly, and appeared to him as Dulcis to inform him of his prophetic destiny. Dulcis was a useful tool for keeping the prophecy alive. The boy didn’t argue, and he gathered up a band of misfit adventurers to storm my ever-growing stronghold. He got lost in the tower and died of old age, and I had a contingent of goblins forge the rib into a sword and bury in the same field.
That led to a fine tradition of plucky young lads digging up a sword and attacking me. I wouldn’t have it any other way; it always amused me. Some were even competent enough to meet me face to face. I always let them live in disgrace, just to spread my legend and motivate others to follow. Best years of my life.
I didn’t let any of them beat me, though. They weren’t worthy. They didn’t have enough character. They didn’t appreciate their lives. The wish was part of the prophecy, so it had to be respected. The night before they stormed my castle, Dulcis asked each of them, “When you smite the Dark One, what shall you wish for?”
The answers were always things like wealth, women, fancy clothing, land, power, etc, etc. Nothing of value. Nothing real. I couldn’t bring myself to grant that kind of wish. I’d be endorsing it! I was making a stand against my cruel and arbitrary brothers, and these upstarts try to use it as an excuse to get rich? I didn’t feel the least bit bad about feeding them to my gargoyles, or dropping them very quickly into a bath of lava.
Then Dinkus arrived. He was, like most of my other sworn enemies, a farm boy who had dug up the Rib of Hope while plowing his radish field. Very heroic vegetables, radishes. He had spent years tracking me down. I subjected him to the usual test. “If you should defeat the Dark One, what will you wish for?” I asked him.
He replied, “Dulcis, there is only one wish in my heart. For centuries, my ancestors have assaulted this evil god, and it has shown me something. I must wish for hope. Hope for a world that does not live in the shadow of fickle gods, who attempt to smite us for no reason. Hope that men can live freely, driven by their own ambition and goals. Hope to choose our own destiny.”
I couldn’t argue with that. He got it right. That’s why when he was captured by goblins, wrapped up in a chain, and dangled over a burning tarpit, I instructed my goblins to lower him very slowly.
It didn’t take much for Dinkus to free himself and reclaim his sword, the Rib of Hope, and meet me in my throne room. I greeted him in my finest armor, three tons of cast iron mail covered in spikes and barbs. It was coated in oil, and I set it aflame. Only one material could penetrate this armor and my flesh: the bone of a god.
“Greetings, foolish mortal,” I said, doing my best Lux impression. “Who dares to challenge Acerbus the Smiter?”
He trembled before me. I wanted to encourage him, to help him ignore the stain growing on his pants and finish this charade once and for all. But I had to let him do it himself. This had to be hard for it to matter.
“I am Dinkus, bearer of the Rib of Hope. I shall smite the Smiter, and reclaim the destiny of the world.”
I could feel Lux’ eyes upon me. He did not know the extent of my plans, but he knew what was at stake. Or at least he knew what prophecy said was at stake. He had tried to contact me after the first war ended with creation very much intact, but I refused to let him into my mind. There was nothing left to speak about between us. I had chosen to defy him, and there was nothing he could say to stop me.
I made sure Lux got his spectacle, nonetheless. I drew a sword of flame from behind my back and faced off against the young hero. It was an epic sword duel full of leaping from banisters, slicing thrones in half, the maiming of innocent bystanders, and anything else you could hope for.
It ended with me “letting my guard down by accident” and being run through with my own rib. It still fit.
“Let there be hope,” said Dinkus. It was obviously rehearsed, but I got over that.
“This cannot be I am invincible I can’t believe you slayed me you must be a true hero,” I muttered as my armor faded away and an earthquake shot through my castle. It was finally over. Well, almost over. There was still the wish.
I tapped into all my remaining power as I dissolved into energy. He wanted a world where men could be free from the whim of Lux and his ilk. I’d be happy to oblige, but how? Then it dawned on me. I thought back to what Fromdon had said all those millennia ago. “The coconut shell of the sky.”
When I was done, it was no longer a metaphor. I encapsulated the entire universe in a giant coconut shell. It would keep the other gods out forever. Soon Lux would try to look at this universe again, and all he would see was a giant, impenetrable coconut. That thought made everything seem worthwhile.
“I’ll miss him,” I heard Fromdon say. At least I had managed to win one of them over.
THE END
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