The Vase
Thursday, November 19th, 2009
In the old days they used to believe. Give ten men an ember of glowing fire, and they would shower you with fresh meat, skins, pottery, whatever. In those days they could believe the hell out of something.
They used to believe that when God created being he used one vase to hold all the souls of man. When a child was born, God poured soul into it from the vase. When a man fell in battle against beast, sickness or time, his essence was cremated, and his soul returned to the vase to be poured anew.
The first people were very protective of the vase. They labored intensely to maintain their numbers. If they had too many babies, they believed the vase could not pour essence into them, and some would be born soulless and evil. If they had too few babies, a plague could decimate their human forms and leave them trapped in the vase forever. And so it was for centuries that they lived unwritten in time always birthing, burning, recycling themselves. When a person died just before a birth, it was thought that the soul remained near the top and had not yet mixed with the others, so they gave this new child the name of his fallen ancestor. And so it was that these spiritual accountants lived their lives among the world.
In the old days they used to believe. Give ten men an ember of glowing fire, and they would shower you with fresh meat, skins, pottery, whatever. In those days they could believe the hell out of something.
They used to believe that when God created being he used one vase to hold all the souls of man. When a child was born, God poured soul into it from the vase. When a man fell in battle against beast, sickness or time, his essence was cremated, and his soul returned to the vase to be poured anew.
The first people were very protective of the vase. They labored intensely to maintain their numbers. If they had too many babies, they believed the vase could not pour essence into them, and some would be born soulless and evil. If they had too few babies, a plague could decimate their human forms and leave them trapped in the vase forever. And so it was for centuries that they lived unwritten in time always birthing, burning, recycling themselves. When a person died just before a birth, it was thought that the soul remained near the top and had not yet mixed with the others, so they gave this new child the name of his fallen ancestor. And so it was that these spiritual accountants lived their lives among the world.