The death of Plnosimdr
It was in that time, when in the holy land of Ivodi in Ubilan the laviog Anv Fungu visited the lonesome iuniln Plnosimdr. Plnosimdr was a iuniln, once one of the creators of the world, he now was the owner of a body, and so was doomed to die. He or she (for in a iuniln the distinction is not always clear) had been the god of the hope and all expectations, but these had all left him now.
He lived far from the people in the city of Ivodi, outside and away, hidden in a house in a thick forest, and with his own thoughts. This mortal, very different way of looking at the world he had created, made him very remorseful, although the people living in the city thought of him as someone wise. They said he was one of the very few iunilniz with knowledge of the gods, and some said he used to pray for hours and hours to the nine gods, who once had been his friends and colleagues.
He had been on earth for almost twelve centuries now, and he refused to take any part in the world around him anymore. He had grown very old, and most likely was about to die.
The door Anv Fungu the laviog had just knocked on, was opened by Egruo, the man that had been taking care of the old Plnosimdr for the past thirty years. He led the laviog to the living-room and offered him some milk. Anv Fungu sat on the floor, and didn't speak for some hours. Plnosimdr was sitting in his chair, looking motionlessly outside the window. Only after three cups of milk the laviog asked: "Are you afraid, Plnosimdr?"
The wrinkled and stiff iuniln didn't answer.
Then he turned to the laviog, and replied: "I can't guess how much true contact you laviomin have with the gods, but mine is disappointingly little."
"Anybody has about as much true contact with the gods as he or she wishes for himself," said Anv Fungu, "but I can imagine yours is little because you've been dismissed from their middle and discharged from your duties. I pray you, be not disappointed because of the contact lost, but glad because of the contact that used to be."
"No," the iuniln replied firmly. "Not everybody can have as much contact as he or she wishes. We all, plant, animal, human, laviog, iuniln, we all are being fooled around with, betrayed, and laughed at. The nine gods will accept the prayers, receive the sacrifices in gratitude, but never, never will someone catch one glimpse of them. The gods won't ever show themselves in real again."
"But, my dearest Plnosimdr," Anv Fungu now said, "how is it possible that of all living creatures I hear you compare gods to men? You should know better. There's no choice but to accept the fact the gods have the knowledge, and therefore also all of the real power, just because they have created the world around us. You don't get the gods back; what you get back is love and peace." He had almost added trust and hope to those two, but just in time he remembered that the iuniln's only trust would be death. Life wasn't worth mentioning in this room.
The iuniln was obviously thinking, sitting in the chair in front of the laviog. Anv Fungu thought the iuniln looked like he had already died, but the thoughts in his head probably went so far back in history as only the thoughts of a iuniln can. Then he glanced outside the window and, at last, shook his head.
"I know what you're thinking now," the laviog said, to the surprise of Plnosimdr. "Of course; you've also made a part of nature. Once. But later on in the game you didn't play by the right rules. You knew in advance violence just couldn't be accepted."
"It could have ended otherwise..." Plnosimdr tried.
"No," the laviog replied. "It couldn't. You were the ones using force, so the others had to win in the end. Don't forget the presence of the god of time, my friend. Righteousness exists with the gods, but that's also something you should have known."
"Wouldn't you want to be a god?" the iuniln asked the laviog.
"No," he answered. "I like to be outside, to be here, in the woods, the mountains, to hear the river, the sea, the birds, the trees, the wind. Why should you want to ask for so much work to do, when you can simply be, and be glad?"
"I just can't forgive myself," the iuniln silently spoke. And again a long silence fell. Anv Fungu drank the rest of his milk.
"Yet forgiving yourself is exactly what you should do, my friend," the laviog said. "It's no use complaining about your mistakes, hoping silently Iulgia will notice, pity you, and will take you back amongst the gods. There's no way back."
Plnosimdr was silent again, now for even much longer than before. He looked outside his window at the setting of the sun in a clear purple sky. Anv Fungu kept watching the old iuniln, while night enclosed the iuniln in his chair with darkness.
After a long period of time Plnosimdr turned around in his chair and looked the laviog sitting next to him in the eyes. He was crying, and in a weak voice said: "Tell Iulgia I love him."
Anv Fungu rose from the ground and embraced the old man. "He has heard," he said. "Rest now." And when the laviog closed the door behind him, Plnosimdr was greeted by Iulgia.
