A Life Delivered Unto Death...
The sacrificial death of John H.D. Lucy's mother was unfortunate, not to mention doleful. Many of the monks looked upon her passing as a dreadful and solemn sign that would weigh heavy on the back of the young John. They could sense that he had significant purpose (the Abbot remained quiet about his wisdom regarding the lad) and they knew that John would be in deep need of a loving, maternal figure. They longed and prayed that the good Lord would provide a way for him to grow but for the time being they had no hope.
Having almost no food for an infant and situated deep in the woods far from any civilization and, for that matter, far from any women, the monks attempted to breast feed young John themselves. This attempt failed almost at the outset but not until every monk in the monastery tried desperately to feed the child. In time the monks discovered that young John had a fetish for lemons and the leaves of the barnacle tree. These foods seemed to galvanize the boy in his desire to learn hand to hand combat and understand the many mysteries of the world and the heavens. Within days he grew teeth that would never fall out and muscles that could rival any adolescent. In under weeks he was telling stories to the monks, who sat enraptured by the fluidity of John's speech and the great detail of the tales. There were many evenings, after John's epic tellings, that the monks would forget that he was only still a baby. It was only a matter of time, though, before John H.D. Lucy's heroic growth would soon be put to an end with the monastery walls as his own destiny would force his early egress.
Soon after John turned two years old the Abbot called a meeting. He gathered together the best of his monks and other religious elite from distant kingdoms and woods. They came to discuss the fate of this child of fortune and learn of his predestined life. The Abbot was shy at first, when all had convened, and took his time discussing what he knew about John. But, knowing that he could no longer keep his knowledge secret, the Abbot spoke up and revealed to the assembly the right and solid truth of John H.D. Lucy.
He said,
"Each of you must know, from first to last, that this day needs must have come. And each of you have known, from first to last, just what this day must mean for all of great civilization. I have convened this meeting of the mighty faithful to reveal to you the nature of this young boy we have housed here for nigh on two years. It has been a glorious time but now it needs must come to an end as he is needed in other realms and in other lives. I weep at the very knowing of what must be said and done but, alas, I am a weaker man then our young John.
"From the first encounter with his mother, I knew he was the one who was foretold to us and that he was the one who would fulfill all of the 89 prophecies once told to us by the great priest of the Shallow Winds. You will remember how doubtful we all were that such an one would come. But now, I ask you, have you not laid your eyes upon the great desolation of sin for too long! You wicked plague-bathers, you vile excrement-wrestlers! How dare you doubt the 89 prophecies! I tell you now, that because of your great heathenism you will suffer the mighty wrath! But, if you now look upon this young stripling and confess his resplendent genius you will be forgiven all and welcomed back into grace.
"For behold! (With this the Abbot grabbed young John by his left foot and hoisted him upside down so that all could see his bottom. And there upon his mighty buttocks was a sign, a great birthmark, in the shape of a great goose.) the mark of the feral bird! "
The many gathered all gasped at this realization and fell prostrate before the child. They were not worshiping but, instead, believing that this was, in fact, the one who would fulfill the prophecies.
"And now you know what we must do," bellowed the Abbot, "we must send the boy on his journey! He must dwell within the ancient oak for a year until he is allowed to traverse this great land of ours."
With that, the monks and other religious leaders harvested their might and tied up young John so that he could not move or speak. The young boy fought and fought but to no end. In the evening a special group of monks took the boy to an ancient oak tree and, cutting a hole in the center, left John to live within the tree with nothing but his own wits and stories to aid him. But, as the monks were leaving, one of them took pity on the boy and cut a slit in the bag just before the hole was closed up. And so it was that young John began his life amidst the barrel of an oak tree reciting old and new stories to himself and culling together his great wits and wisdom, saving all of them for a time when he could leave the tree and impress himself upon the world.
Back at the monastery though the monks returned to a vacant sanctuary and empty cells. In the center of the great dining hall was a pile of bodies dripping with blood. There was a great evil stirring, slouching its way through the deep wood, looking for the baby John.
Having almost no food for an infant and situated deep in the woods far from any civilization and, for that matter, far from any women, the monks attempted to breast feed young John themselves. This attempt failed almost at the outset but not until every monk in the monastery tried desperately to feed the child. In time the monks discovered that young John had a fetish for lemons and the leaves of the barnacle tree. These foods seemed to galvanize the boy in his desire to learn hand to hand combat and understand the many mysteries of the world and the heavens. Within days he grew teeth that would never fall out and muscles that could rival any adolescent. In under weeks he was telling stories to the monks, who sat enraptured by the fluidity of John's speech and the great detail of the tales. There were many evenings, after John's epic tellings, that the monks would forget that he was only still a baby. It was only a matter of time, though, before John H.D. Lucy's heroic growth would soon be put to an end with the monastery walls as his own destiny would force his early egress.
Soon after John turned two years old the Abbot called a meeting. He gathered together the best of his monks and other religious elite from distant kingdoms and woods. They came to discuss the fate of this child of fortune and learn of his predestined life. The Abbot was shy at first, when all had convened, and took his time discussing what he knew about John. But, knowing that he could no longer keep his knowledge secret, the Abbot spoke up and revealed to the assembly the right and solid truth of John H.D. Lucy.
He said,
"Each of you must know, from first to last, that this day needs must have come. And each of you have known, from first to last, just what this day must mean for all of great civilization. I have convened this meeting of the mighty faithful to reveal to you the nature of this young boy we have housed here for nigh on two years. It has been a glorious time but now it needs must come to an end as he is needed in other realms and in other lives. I weep at the very knowing of what must be said and done but, alas, I am a weaker man then our young John.
"From the first encounter with his mother, I knew he was the one who was foretold to us and that he was the one who would fulfill all of the 89 prophecies once told to us by the great priest of the Shallow Winds. You will remember how doubtful we all were that such an one would come. But now, I ask you, have you not laid your eyes upon the great desolation of sin for too long! You wicked plague-bathers, you vile excrement-wrestlers! How dare you doubt the 89 prophecies! I tell you now, that because of your great heathenism you will suffer the mighty wrath! But, if you now look upon this young stripling and confess his resplendent genius you will be forgiven all and welcomed back into grace.
"For behold! (With this the Abbot grabbed young John by his left foot and hoisted him upside down so that all could see his bottom. And there upon his mighty buttocks was a sign, a great birthmark, in the shape of a great goose.) the mark of the feral bird! "
The many gathered all gasped at this realization and fell prostrate before the child. They were not worshiping but, instead, believing that this was, in fact, the one who would fulfill the prophecies.
"And now you know what we must do," bellowed the Abbot, "we must send the boy on his journey! He must dwell within the ancient oak for a year until he is allowed to traverse this great land of ours."
With that, the monks and other religious leaders harvested their might and tied up young John so that he could not move or speak. The young boy fought and fought but to no end. In the evening a special group of monks took the boy to an ancient oak tree and, cutting a hole in the center, left John to live within the tree with nothing but his own wits and stories to aid him. But, as the monks were leaving, one of them took pity on the boy and cut a slit in the bag just before the hole was closed up. And so it was that young John began his life amidst the barrel of an oak tree reciting old and new stories to himself and culling together his great wits and wisdom, saving all of them for a time when he could leave the tree and impress himself upon the world.
Back at the monastery though the monks returned to a vacant sanctuary and empty cells. In the center of the great dining hall was a pile of bodies dripping with blood. There was a great evil stirring, slouching its way through the deep wood, looking for the baby John.