Humans are weird: The man who bested gods
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From the memoir of Yen Valir
“For over six thousand years the people of Gan’da had been ruled by the god themselves.
The seven suns of our world would rise and fall at their leisure, the oceans would be bountiful or scant on their whim, and life of every citizen was their gift to us; though one they were more than willing to take back should we anger them.
High atop their palace in the Crimson Teeth Mountains they lived in luxury beyond measure. Food from across the entire planet was brought before them to feast on, the most desirable males and females were brought before them to serve as servants and courtesans when the desire arose, furnishings of gold so bright it hurt one’s eyes if looked upon too long and furs so soft that you would never want to get up from them.
One could be mistaken to believe that from this grandeur that the people of our world lived in peace and harmony. They would be mistaken, for just as the gods were beneficial they were even more vengeful.
Disputes between gods would spoil into outright bloodshed as their followers were commanded to exact their revenge. Compelled by their faith, the average citizens would turn on each other like rabid beasts, drenching the streets of their cities in the blood of their rival god’s followers. There was no concept of denying the orders of their gods for no one had ever done so. They slaughtered each in the belief that what they did was in service for a higher purpose.
What was even more astounding than the fickle nature of our gods was not only how quickly these bloodbaths could begin, but how quickly they could be resolved by the gods and forgotten. Thousands would die in a matter of days, but when the quarreling gods came to a compromise they ordered their subjects to cease and return to their normal lives as if nothing happened.
The gods laughed at their feuds while the people buried their dead in mass graves.
This way of life would have gone on for generations had it not been for the sudden and unexpected intervention of one who fell from the heavens and was themselves mistaken for a new god, until we came to know them by their true name.
Anthony Benson, the bester of gods.
In the year 2929.07 a flash of light cut across the sky like a burning blade through butter. Its tail grew across five continents before impacting atop the Crimson Teeth Mountains.
The people of the lands took it as a sign that a new god had come from the heavens to rule alongside their fellows and bring about a new era of wonder. The gods on the other hand, had a less optimistic viewpoint.
They ordered their guards and servants to the site of the impact and there they discovered a metal sphere. It was scorched black as coal and pieces had been torn off from the impact revealing a series of strange tubes and rope like colored threads inside. A small glass circle was on one side of the sphere that was no doubt a window of some sort, but the heat of the fallen sphere was so hot that none could get near it without burning flesh from bone.
Water was brought to the impact crater and for a full day and night they poured the precious liquid into the area to cool the heat until finally the temperature had dropped enough to allow them to approach. No sooner had they begun to walk towards the sphere did the windowed side crack open like the beak of a great bird.
From the new opening a lone figure emerged out on to the now cooled stone. They were adorned in clothing that enveloped them entirely and wore a helm of polished metal that reflected back the faces of all that looked upon it.
Those that were gathered bent to their knees and bowed their heads. They were convinced that they were in the presence of a new god and that to show disrespect was to invite their doom. To their surprise the new god walked towards them and bade them to rise.
Tapping a strange symbol on their chest they spoke. It was a tongue that no one had ever heard of and to this day no one still has understood. When those gathered gave no response they tapped the same symbol several more times before speaking again.
“Take me to your leader.”
The voice was cold and metallic sounding which further unnerved the people. No doubt sensing this, the new god tapped the symbol again and said. “Sorry, it was something I’ve always wanted to say.”
Put at ease the citizens brought the new god to the palace to join their fellow gods in eternal bliss. Yet when they arrived the new god was surrounded by guards the moment they set foot upon the hollowed grounds and taken directly to the ethereal chamber.
Inside the chamber sat all of the gods in a great circle looking down on a lower platform. It was on this platform that the new god was placed and spoke directly to the gods. The palace servants and guards sat beneath the gods on lower rings and watched the discussion with great interest.
They said their name was Anthony Benson and that they were not a god but a lost traveler searching for a way home. This Anthony asked the gods if they could help him return to the stars and resume his journey.
The gods deliberated amongst themselves for some time before they made their decision.
They would assist this wayward traveler to the fullest of their ability, but only if they knelt before them and offered his faith to them.
Upon hearing this Anthony was confused. He said that though he was grateful for their generosity he would not bow before them in worship for he was an atheist.
The gods were confused at this, as there was no translation in their tongue of such a word and demanded Anthony elaborate. He told them that an atheist was someone that believed gods do not exist, and therefore he would not worship in that which he did not believe.
The chamber erupted at this with gasps from the commoners and servants while the gods shouted and demanded this Anthony’s head for his blasphemy.
Behind Anthony two guards approached with their swords drawn ready to cut this skyward traveler down when Anthony spoke.
“Oh noble beings, I wish to make a wager with you.”
“What possibly makes you think that we would accept any arrangements with a heretic like you?” retorted the gods.
“I wager my life for my freedom.” Anthony said.
Intrigued, the gods held up their hands and the guards stopped their advance as the traveler continued.
“I challenge each of you to a game, and should I win you will let me live and do all that you can you assist me.”
“And if you should lose?” one of the gods countered. “What then?”
“Then I shall convert to your faith and allow you to kill me, so I will be forgotten for my crimes against you.”
With such a tempting offer the gods discussed amongst themselves once more. Some were for the wager having been lacking in entertainment for some time, while other’s demanded this travelers head for his affronts to their faith. The gathered crowds of servants and guards looked on in wonder, for no one in their history had ever been so bold as to challenge a god. This traveler, this Anthony, became just as much of an interest to them as he was to the gods.
As the gods debated Anthony spoke once more, raising his voice so all in the chamber could hear.
“Surely you who claim to be gods are not afraid of a mortal of flesh and blood.” At this the gods stopped their discussions, several now on the verge of ordering his execution but stopped as Anthony continued.
“To you, who claim to raise the sun and banish the night, I would have thought a simple game mere child’s play; unless of course you are afraid to lose.”
Goaded by the traveler’s words before those who worshipped them, the gods accepted the wager but demanded that for them to aide him, Anthony must defeat every god present to obtain his prize.
All six hundred of them…..
Without a moment’s hesitation Anthony accepted the terms and said the game would be something from his own world called “Chess”. He turned to one of the guards behind him and asked if they could return to his sphere and remove from inside a small brown box that contained the board.
When the gods protested and demanded that they play a game of their world Anthony said “For ones who claim to have knowledge of the universe I would have thought you would know of this game; do you mean to tell me that you do not know how to play it?”
The crowd watched in silence as the gods did not respond.
“Surely gods who weave the fates of millions would know the rules of a simple game.” they thought.
With bluster the gods admitted to knowing of the game and having played it well for generations beyond counting. At this Anthony said “Then such a game is perfect for our wager for masters such as you.”
It took some time before the guard returned with the requested box and handed it to Anthony. Setting up a table on the platform and two chairs, the traveler laid out a board and several carven figures. Two towers of stone, two beasts, two sharpened spears, a pointed crown, a barer of a cross, and ten guardians. As the pieces were set together Anthony bade the first god to join him.
The god who first came down demanded the guards fetch a more fitting chair for themselves so the game was delayed until they found a more elaborate chair for the god to sit upon.
Anthony took the white pieces and the god took the black pieces. When Anthony made to make the first move the god demanded he stop.
“A god will always go first, mortal.”
The voice was deep and booming and several servants cowered in fear. They had heard it often whenever one of them had displeased a god and a punishment was swiftly coming. The traveler however was unphased by this and merely spun the board around so that the god had the white pieces.
“Then you should have asked for the white pieces.” Anthony said, his polished helm reflecting the confused look of the god. “Have you forgotten that white moves first?”
Enraged, the god made to say something but stopped themselves. The eyes of everyone present watched with baited breath as the strange traveler and theirs gods began to play.
It was astounding when the first god had been defeated, but the rest of the gods had laughed and mocked that they were the simplest of their number and sent another. This process repeated itself over and over and over for three days and nights.
The traveler Anthony and the gods played their games and for three days and nights the traveler won each and every game. With each win the number of spectators from the palace increased further and further until every living soul on the Crimson Teeth Mountains was in attendance and watching. So enthralled had they become by this moment that many slept where they sat rather than risk losing their spot.
At the dawn of the fourth day the final god had been bested.
A task so monumental in scope many had thought it not possible and yet the traveler, this Anthony, had defeated each of the gods in turn.
“You were worthy opponents,” Anthony said as he stood from the table, “but I have won the wager and shall now hold you to your word.”
In anger the final god who had been bested flipped the table and scattered the contents.
“No one makes demands of the gods!” they bellowed. “Savior your victory for it shall be your last!”
With that the gods called upon their gods to kill Anthony. When several made to follow the command Anthony shouted “So this is who you call gods!? Oath breakers!?”
The guards continued advancing on Anthony but slowed their pace slightly and Anthony continued.
“All heard them give their word they would assist me should I win, I trusted that promise and wagered my life in respect; yet now that they lay defeated they break their word like common vagabonds!”
At this the god nearest him lunged at him, the intent to kill painted across their face.
Before they could lay a hand on Anthony a blinding light surrounded the skyward traveler. The light burned so bright all those present covered their eyes but only for a moment. As quickly as the light had arrived it vanished, taking with it the Traveler Anthony Benson.
Enraged, the gods ordered all present to scour the mountains and find them, yet for all there searching no trace remained of the traveler.
The gods ordered that no one would speak of what had transpired in those four days on pain of death and eternal damnation to the dark, but by then the cracks had already begun to appear.
Those that had witnessed the events spoke in hushed tones in their quarters amongst themselves, then amongst the guards, and then even the traders who came to provide tribute. Some had even begun to carve similar game pieces the traveler had brought with them and begun to play the game themselves.
The traders, interested in such gossip, took those stories and even some of the pieces and shared them with the rest of the world. The legend of the Anthony Benson grew and grew with each passing rotation. A mortal who bested gods? Why, the populace could not but day dream of what a being must have been like; and as their legend spread so too did the true nature of their gods.
Those who gave promises with one hand, then offered the dagger with the other, soon cast a dark shadow of the god’s portrayal to the public. How could they claim to be noble if their word meant nothing?
When the gods learned that the game that had bested them was now being played across the world they ordered that anyone found with those “heretical” pieces would be put to death. At first the authorities followed the god’s orders, and many hundreds were put to the axe. That changed when even the children were not sparred and they too were cut from the neck; their lifeless bodies strung from the gates of every city.
The disquiet grew into anger, then the anger to rage, and from the rage came vengeance.
Within two generations the people of Gan’da finally had enough of their “gods” and stormed the Crimson Teeth Mountains in their millions. The gates of the golden palace were torn asunder and the gods who had played with the lives of millions were dragged from their decadence and cast from the mountain side.
It is said that if one is go to the very same spot today and listen closely, you can still hear their terrified screams as they plummeted to their demise.
There was chaos afterwards, as all great change brings. Some say that the way of the gods was harsh, but it was stable. Yet those today would say that to follow those filled with deceit are unworthy of such reverence.
Now as our people finally reach out to the stars we carry not just the hopes of our people, but each a small children’s game and the pieces that changed a world for the better.
We hope one day we will find this Anthony Benson and thank him for the freedom we had denied ourselves for so long.
And then, we would ask if he would play a game with us.“
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