[centre][img]http://i.imgur.com/KQMfWnO.png[/img]

[hider=Summary]A tale of Great-Orif

Orif sits on a rock, overseeing the tribute a vanquished tribes is giving to the Patriarch
A madwoman comes along and gives him some twigs
They tell him she's mad
He ignores them and tells her to show him how the twigs work
She tells him they've got magical blessings
He asks her to show him how to get the blessings
It turns out they're for cleaning teeth
'How d'you get the blessings?' Orif asks.
'Only time will tell,' the madwoman replies, before running off like a nincompoop.
The tribals tell him she's mad
He reprimands them and tells them she is the most faithful of them all
He takes her twigs and refuses to take all the other tribute - the twigs are the best[/hider][/centre]

[centre]Thanatos, Part II[/centre]

[i]Moon: 334[/i]
Orif sat upon the rock as the people of the tribe danced around him and brought him their gifts and tribute. His eyes remained cold as he surveyed each of the tribals who came before him. Some were placing fur or shiny rocks or well-made spears before him. Some even gave of their children as tribute, that they may go to the great encampment where the fabled Prophet-Patriarch dwelled, and that they may be initiated as frinjis there and be made life-mates for his progeny.

Before the coming of Great-Orif, as they had dubbed him, they had been astray, and they now knew that they had been so. Only those blessed by the Moon-Mother herself could march into the encampment, as Orif had done  on that fateful day nearly eight moons ago, declaring the land and its people as belonging to the Moon-Mother and he whom she had blessed with prophethood. They had at first resisted, but those who took up arms were put down without mercy. And then they had refused to pledge obedience to the Patriarch, and the curses of the Moon-Mother had descended on them for weeks, and the raids of Great-Orif prevented them from so much as setting foot out of the encampment. And little by little they had ventured out and pledged obedience. And though they had done so out of desperation in those early days, the blooming of the Moon-Mother's blessing and the shrivelling of her curse had further strengthened their faith. And those who visited the great encampment and saw the Prophet-Patriarch had returned with great tales of his mercy and justice, how his face shone bright with the holy light of the Moon-Mother herself (how some had snuck a look at him in his tent when he was sleeping once, and how his face had been as a moon in the darkness within!)

Indeed, they had been in a great darkness and strife before the rising of the Patriarch's moon above them. Where had they been before they had bathed in his light and known the pleasure of that most mighty and matchless Moon-Mother, that most beloved Elysium. Indeed, his coming had been a mercy upon them, and her mercy in sending him was incomprehensible.

'Tell him who is all of all of me: Who is for me if he is not for me?' an oddly dressed woman suddenly screamed, 'I saw my Lord with the eye of my heart, and I asked him, "Who are you?" and he said, "I am you!"' she dropped a pile of sticks before Orif and began shaking her head from side to side and smacking the top of her head with both hands, 'have mercy on me! When - oh when! - will these my eyes, with absence anguished, see before them what the heart has for long seen?' Orif cocked his head and considered the woman for a few seconds.
'M-my great Chief, she is mad, p-please do not mind her,' Orif looked to the man who had spoken with a grave silence.

'I swear! I swear I have never gone to sip of the pond, except that I have seen a reflection of You in its waters!' she was now shouting at the skies. Orif looked up, and even though it was yet day, he could see the moon clearly in the sky. A thoughtfulness entered his eyes and he did not hear whatever else the man was now gibbering.

'Bring me these sticks that she has brought,' he suddenly commanded. There were a few moments of wary silence, as though those who had heard were unsure if they had heard right. When it became clear that none of the tribals were going to carry out the command, one of the Orifids rushed to do as his Warrior-Chief had ordered. Orif took one of [url=http://h24-original.s3.amazonaws.com/69293/4909621-8i43v.jpg]the thin twigs[/url], about as thick as an adult's pinkie and the length of a handspan. It had a rather odd smell, though it was not a bad odd. The other twigs were all of the same kind, with the same smell. Their lengths were more or less equal and their thicknesses also. It was quite clear that the woman had not merely collected these twigs randomly, there was some kind of purpose to them, though Orif could not guess what. He looked at the woman, who was now staring intently at him.

'What are these, woman?' he asked. She laughed and walked towards him waving her hand about in the air as though he had asked a question wherein were the answers to many a great mystery.
'They are twigs!' she announced once she was next to him upon the rock, 'tooth-twigs! From the Tooth-Tree. And its leaves are good too! I have tried them in illness and in health. And its flowers! Its flowers! You must try them, and its berries too! This thing, this thing has in it cures for all things!' she paused for a while and looked to the side as though listening to something, 'ah, yes. Except death.'

Orif raised the twig to his face and examined it again. Sure enough, it smelled like it had much blessing and good to it, but in the end it was nothing more than a twig. How did one get benefit from it? Did you just...eat it?

'How do you get its benefits? Do you just hold it? Do you eat it?' 
'Eat it?' the woman scoffed, 'of course not! You just rub it on your teeth. That's why it is a tooth-twig!' Orif brought the end of the twig up to his teeth and rubbed it with it.

'No! Not like that!' she grabbed the twig and put it into her mouth, scraping the bark off the top before chewing on it. After a while, she showed it to him again and to his amazement its head now had [url=http://www.jethwapakistan.com/images/miswak/miswak-6.jpg]bristles[/url]. He took it from her and began chewing on the bristles as she had done.

'What are you doing you silly boy. Stop chewing on it! Rub, rub your teeth with it!' she grabbed it from him once more and and began scraping it gently, up and down, against her teeth. With the example given, she gave it back to him.

'Ah, I see. And why against the teeth in particular? Do its blessings go in through the teeth?' he asked as he did as she had shown. The woman looked rather confused for a few seconds, she looked to the side before looking back at him.

'Well, no. That's just how you make your teeth whiter. That's how you clean your teeth,' at her words he paused and removed the tooth-twig from his mouth. So this thing was simply...for cleaning teeth?

'But...what about all its blessings that you were talking about?' he asked. She laughed and nodded in understanding.

'Oh, feisty one you are! Time, little one! Time is all that stands between you and the secrets of the Tooth-Tree,' and with that she scrambled off the rock and ran off. Orif stared after her for a while, and once she had disappeared, he looked down at the head of his tooth-twig. A small smile spread across his face and he put it back into his mouth and scraped at his teeth with it.

'Do not mind Sereka, Great-Orif. She is but a madwoman. Her wits have been gone many moons, and we have found no cure for her, though the Moon-Mother knows we have tried,' the man was once more gibbering away. Orif sucked his teeth in annoyance and stood up suddenly. Gripping the tooth-twig, he pointed it at the man and commanded him be silent.

'Be quiet, damn you! Your gibbering is like the incessant [url=https://youtu.be/oFTSRUl3FmM]buzzing[/url] of a [url=https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/14/Common_house_fly,_Musca_domestica.jpg]Buzz-Fly[/url] - irritating and useless! If you but had ears to listen and a mind that you may comprehend, you may have realised that you do nothing but uselessly buzz. And you may have realised, also, that Sereka is like a bursting cloud above a land that has not known rain. She gives of herself endlessly, water pure and pleasant and cool, and with it brings life to a land that has known naught but death. She rains upon you wisdom, but your earth is poor and cannot hold her waters, her wisdoms pass through you like the arrow passes through air, leaving no mark!' his voice had steadily risen as he spoke, and he waved the tooth-twig ever more violently as his voice rose, 'by the Moon-Mother! There is yet within you people something of the Darkness-Before. What can be said of your faith when the most faithful amongst you are branded mad? Begone from my sight! I do not wish to see you, and I shan't take your useless tribute to the Patriarch, for it would bring shame on you and me!' and with those final words, he picked up the few twigs that Sereka had brought with her and leapt off the rock. The few Orifids who had accompanied him turned and followed their leader as he made his way out of the small encampment.

[centre]***===***===***===***===***[/centre]