Pharomachrus Mocinno or The City — Chapter 3 of Thrice Fallen
“God is a comedian playing to an audience that is too afraid to laugh.” — François-Marie Arouet
When we reached The City, it looked like any other city; its own kind of desert.
We landed somewhere near its center, and now it was time to depart. I handed Hermes his Caduceus and like a friend who might not see the other for a long time, he said to me:
[We trick no one, but ourselves alone. All the best, you’ll soon be where you want to be.]
He kissed his right hand’s middle and index finger and raised them in salute, and as he did so, the symbol of the caduceus was tattooed on my back.
After I saw him disappear in the distance, I started walking the streets of Eridu-daro, heading for the center and looking for beauty wherever I could find it; in a face, in a corner, in a roof, under shadow, in plain sight.
I have seen many cities in my life, and in all of them, the first thing that I try to do, is to look down.
Observe the roads, and much you’ll learn about the civilization to whom they belong.
In what state are they? How has time treated them? Are they clean? Well designed? In what fashion do people tread on them?
Why? The decades pass and the songs change, but not those that sing of the greatness of Rome.
And the roads of Eridu-daro, told the story of Eridu-daro.
Then I looked at the people, and soon a pattern emerged. Though none looked the same, and many went to great lengths to look as different as possible from the one on their right or left, they were the same. Eridu-daro, City of Illusions.
You can wear as many layers as you wish, when you reach certain areas beneath your skin, in the valleys of the brain, in the lakes of the heart, you scream for help the same way!
I seemed lost, so to not waste my time, I decided to ask someone for the way to the center.
Stopped the first guy I saw and asked him… he himself did not know.
“I’ve never been there. The route I follow each day, has been specially designed for me, and I do not take a step more or a step less. Neither do I make a wrong turn, or take a different, maybe shorter path. Ask someone else and please, move a bit to the right, I am supposed to step where you are currently standing.”
For a moment I wanted to just firm myself in that position, barricade it! See this city’s order, its well-oiled machine succumb to error. Why not?
Then I looked at the poor fella’s face and decided to move a bit to the right; he had become an inflated balloon, ready to burst.
A moment later, I decided to ask a young lady, who seemed to be in high-spirit, if she knew the way.
“Sure, it’s not far away from here. Just keep going this way, then take a left at the bridge and then a right and straight again.”
Thank you. My apologies for my inquiry, but what makes you so happy today?
“Today I leave Eridu-daro, today I live!”
Guess the last people who will be left in this city, are those that appear in TV shows. Those too invested in their hardships and struggles, with their life made of nothing else and an assortment of entertainment once in a while.
But let’s not fool ourselves of being of a higher breed, it’s them and it could very well be us.
The road by the river, was simply lovely. Quiet and blessed with sun. I closed my eyes, soaked in that divine energy and just walked; I lived. Then I looked at the people again, and they were great jumpers! Jumping from one patch of shade to the other.
So I turned my gaze at the buildings that gave birth to the shade, imposing and spotless. Look at them! An old recording crept in my ears and the words I knew well, Shelley’s Ozymandias, “Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
What a poem, more than a poem!
And their steps, the steps of these gorgeous buildings, the beggars had made their kingdom.
Hmm, to give or not to give? I don’t know; I passed them all this time.
I arrived at the center, took a look around… and left. From above it had seemed different. Reminds me of an old story.
When I was a kid, I saw an item in a store from afar, it looked to me at that moment like a toy. The other ten times I saw it, from the same distance, it still looked like a toy. The image was well constructed in my mind. So to my surprise, the day I actually went and bought it, it was just a fruit cake; I blame the packing to this day.
Where to now? A school was nearby, so I decided to visit it, in hope to learn. I was lucky to find a class where the teacher was yet to come, so I entered it and used the time to ask the pupils a few questions.
So tell me, what do you want to become when you grow up?
And a boy, no more than 10 raised his hand, stood up and proudly said, “A killer! A killer, so society can accept me.”
And whom do you have to kill?
“Above all, myself.”
Eridu-daro, City of Killers.
And what do they teach you here?
A girl at the front desk replied, “To fear is the way. To try is to blunder! To speak is to–”
“The war goes on, the wounded are left behind!” said a worried voice from behind her and the girl stopped.
The war?
“Yes, don’t you know!? We are at war with the Empire of Hoddmímis holt.”
And what is the name of your country?
The entire class of more than 30 stood up and said, “the People’s United Democratic Republic of Pravda. May our rockets reach the hearths of our enemies’ homes! PUDRP forever!”
Historical memes, are some of the best memes out there.
I understood that this country did not belong to the people, was deeply divided, highly undemocratic and far from being a republic; that’s a quick lesson in politics for you.
And how’s the war going?
A boy who seemed knowledgeable on the subject said, “We have been in a perpetual war with them for more than 100 years, but now we are ever-closer to a great and complete victory.”
And after he told me about 10 or more great battles that they had won, I was highly interested to know if any of them had visited Hoddmímis holt, and all of them replied, “no”.
I asked them if they had ever met someone from Hoddmímis holt, and all replied the same way, “no”.
Then a remarkable question was raised by one of the pupils:
“If the war ends, shall we have to eat?!”
Born and raised in a world in war, three generations or more, they don’t know a life when war is not present. The system will be in shock, it will have to adjust its appetite.
“And where are you from? The whole world knows of our glorious war.”
I am stateless.
“How can one be stateless?”
I reject the political lunacies of my government, I oppose the cultural decadence of my people, I see friends, where they see necessary casualties.
So long my friends, I have to go. When I left the building, it had begun to rain.
It was a light and pleasant rain, even if I had an umbrella, I would not choose to use it, but all around me, colors suddenly popped. They walked their paths, but none felt the rain.
Eridu-daro, City of Umbrellas.
Our touch impaired, our hearing impaired, our smell impaired, our sight impaired — impaired humans.
In the desert of umbrellas and colors, I noticed a spot. An old man whom all seemed to avoid, holding a sign that read:
THE END OF TIMES IS NIGH!
A NEW WORLD BEGINS,
AND WITH IT COMES
THE LION’S ROAR!
United by our love for the rain and words, I asked him if he knew the way to Hoddmímis holt, he chuckled.
“There’s a park not far away, we can sit there and I can tell you how to go to Hoddmímis holt.”
After we sat, he asked: “I guess you are not from this land, or world?”
How can you tell?
“Who the fuck would ask about Hoddmímis holt. Plus, look at how you are dressed. Yet another seeker has come to seek. Well, it’s your lucky day friend, you already are in Hoddmímis holt and have met one of the last that know its tale.
Before being called PUDRP, this country was called the Empire of Hoddmímis holt. You might be confused right now, I will explain.”
Fouth chapter of Thrice Fallen :)
