It took me a lot of anguish to come to this decision. I really did not want to leave my family. But after a week of the type of pondering you do when your mind is already set, but fears the consequences of that choice, i realized i could not resist. I loved my wife, i truly did. My son too. But…
The hollow god weeps, and i must partake
I did not leave them a letter. They would not understand my reasons. I fear that even i do not understand my reasons, and even if i did, neither the best of poets nor a god itself could help me explain.
The journey there was not without its suffering. There are few things as agonizing as knowing your exact destination, feeling a craving; a need, but still being unable to do anything but wait as a ship transports me most of the way. I must power through. Be strong.
Food can hardly quell my hunger anymore, and my thirst will no longer be sated by any liquid known to man. The only thing that can somewhat fill me is the thought that…
The hollow god weeps, and i must partake
Walking down the streets of a small village on the way, people stop to look at me. I must be quite the sight to behold by now. Eyes sunken in, posture lumping. Clothes that no longer hug my body the way they did at the outset of this journey, now in tatters, scarcely covering up what little else than bones is left of me.
I seek the harbor, to find a local who can provide me with travel to the small island in which my destination lies. Most turn me down with a frightened look in their eyes. I wonder if what brings such fright into their souls is the island, or my visage. Not that it matters, i do not harbor the will to force them, and even if i would, this form simply no longer possesses the strength necessary for such an act.
Finally, one fisherman who does not seem frightened agrees to take me there. His vessel is a small boat, barely even large enough for the two of us, but it must do. At least until i can get to the island.
Of course, even he raises concern along the way. I am not the first he brings here, he tells me. But he has yet to ever see anyone leave. I wave his concerns off with a stare into his eyes. He understands that i simply cannot turn back. There is something i must do…
The hollow god weeps, and i must partake
The island itself is a set of large rocks, jutting out of the water like a blade would from a mans body. On one side, there is a small opening, barely large enough for a human to squeeze through. And yet i bid farewell to the kind man, and enter.
By now, my head is ringing, and my entire body is throbbing in pain. A weaker person would say that weeks of abstaining from rest, and eating and drinking only the minimum is what has brought this upon me, but i know. I am getting close. The ringing is mere frustration that i could not be here sooner, and my pain is simply my soul trying to escape my body, to fly to my target faster than my legs will bring me there.
After stumbling through caves for what feels like an eternity, i arrive. A large chamber, filled with neatly ordered flowers, each the size of an adult. All blooming in front of what looks like a statue, or a flower, or a being; it is probably all three at once, and still so much more. In front of it is a large bowl, filled with a red liquid that is slowly dripping from the gaping midsection of this transcendent being; this god.
And upon witnessing this sight the ringing is no longer a problem. All my pain stops. My limbs move as they did when i was at my peak, and i sit down in front of the bowl. Without as much as a sliver of a doubt, i raise the bowl to my lips, and chug the entirety of its contents. I feel a warmth, and a realization comes to me.
Among the flowers, there is space for me. A space i gladly fill, as my limbs once again become slow, as my chest is ripped open as if i was subject to some sort of twisted live obduction. As my skin hardens and melds, my guts crawl up along my length, growing thorns like a vine. My lungs grow to look like overgrown dandelions, ready to spread their seeds in the wind. My heart opens up like a huge rose, given its color by my blood.
Yet i do not feel pain, only catharsis
The hollow god weeps, and i have partaken