Galagar: Mad at First Sight
I’ve held posting these back for quite a while, but with the planning of the final chapter underway, this was the best time to drop them— the introductions for the Mariner companions.
This is the first of them. If you guys remember, there was supposed to be a Mariner companions(s) who are twins, and that after some great deliberation, I decided to replace them. This is the one that took their place.
The impassive gaze of a conqueror sweeps over the shore. Galagar looks left, he swung his head to the right, and then he looks far, as far as his eyes can reach. The sight is almost familiar by now: just another early settlement edging the open sea.
But settled by who? And, more importantly, by what?
Galagar's people dropped from the Jormungandr without the need for vocalized orders, their swords and axes and spears pointed forward like dowsing rods seeking blood and retribution. It is not long before the screams reached Galagar's ears, which can only mean—
"Humans," Galagar confirms to himself.
It is almost always Humans. They are the most receptive to worshipping Incarnates. Which is fair considering they are the Humans' ancestors. And which, ironically, Galagar cannot fault since he himself once worshipped the Earth Elementals.
But it makes no difference, the faith to the Pantheons must end.
Galagar's jaw tightens as he watches his people step into the Human settlement. His desire to join them is strong, but he must hold his emotions back. His wrath is a blessing from the self-proclaimed "God of the Seas," but he uses it as a curse to the Pantheons' influence.
The raging waters that Galagar house within himself is repressed at the thought of a tranquil lake reflecting everything beyond its still surface. Galagar's mind clears at once, and the waves lapping against the sands stopped in the same instant, sharing in the king's sentiments.
Galagar looks ahead once more, now he sees the Humans scampering all over to escape the Gigants on the prowl. News of their deeds must have reached this part of the sea for the locals to react the way they do as instantly as they did. Or perhaps it is simply the imposing height and breadth of Galagar and his people.
Though truth be told, Galagar's goal is not conquest.
It is to eradicate the Incarnates' hold in the realm of mortals.
Galagar jumps off the longboat, the sand cushioning his landing. Step by step, each one unhurriedly taken, he walks towards the Human village.
There are a few running his way, perhaps thinking that the sea is their only escape. When they find Galagar in front of them— they stop.
The most obvious choice for them would be to turn back. But it is too late.
Galagar's present mood washes over them— his tranquility soothing their fears.
They stop trembling. Their legs regain stability. Their minds turning as easily as fallen leaves blown by the breeze. They look at Galagar as if he is no threat.
There is still a slight suspicion of course— Galagar's still waters cannot distract them from a very recent experience. Still, it helps. The Human that had neared Galagar is no longer scared to the point of wanting escape.
Galagar walks past them, further into the small village. His quiet emotions reach more and more people, Humans and Gigants alike— the former more so than the latter. The Humans are herded easily like obedient sheep, with the Gigants as the patient shepherds.
Now prisoners, the Humans' thoughts lack any urge of an impulsive action, even as they see their children, their husbands and wives, their parents and their friends shackled within the hands of the Gigants. If one did not know any better, one would think the Humans surrendered willingly.
No, their hearts and minds are simply free of distress to even think of recklessness.
Galagar goes to one knee and leans forward so that he can look closer at one of the Humans. The man chosen inches away in wariness as Galagar looms over him.
"Which one do you follow?" Galagar asks.
The Human throws Galagar a bewildered look. His mouth opens as if to reply, but closes it again soon after. Galagar waits patiently for the Human to say something in response, but they only end up staring at each other for a while.
So Galagar repeats his question. "Which 'God' are you a follower of?"
The Human's stare prolongs as his features further wilt into confusion. "God?"
"Yes. God," Galagar spits the title, his people recognizing the derisive tone, but the Human only sees patience in the Gigant King.
Upon hearing the Human's whispered answer, Galagar's brows rise slightly before straightening back. That is not a name of an Incarnate.
"My king." One of Galagar's steps up to him, holding out a splayed hand with a dead lamb on it. Upon closer look, the lamb's blood was drained and its insides carefully extracted. "We found this in some makeshift altar in their square."
Galagar stares at the dead animal before voicing his conclusion. "They worship Angels." No Incarnate orders their followers to do something as pointless as sacrificing animals as offerings.
"We don't worships this Angels. We only worship Thirundel," the Human's voice rises in indignation. However, Galagar's influence immediately kicks in, forcing the Human to calm down in the blink of an eye. "Like you said, he's our god."
Galagar ignores the Human. Angel worshippers are all the same: great of faith yet full of confusion. Still, Galagar can never mock them as openly as he does followers of the Pantheons as he does not know much about Angels. Moreover, he has no quarrel with Heaven— if it really does exist.
Galagar takes position where all the Humans that have been gathered can see him. He is about to declare their honest mistake and offer compensation for the damage done in this day, both physically and mentally. But just before his first word in a brief pardon is said, Galagar catches something at the corner of his vision.
A mundane item with the carving of a Rune— a sign of an Incarnates' interference in mortal affairs. It belongs to a child, the young Human, barely past his first decade, clutching onto it with both hands.
Galagar goes over to the child, struggling to keep his composure, but masterfully keeps his emotions almost undisturbed far beneath the surface.
"Little boy," Galagar calls out as he once again kneels to look at the Human better. "Where did your toy come from?" More specifically, a top, but what the object is called eludes Galagar as he needs a singular focus to converse and maintain stoicism.
Thankfully, the young Human holds not even a small amount of apprehension that would have easily kept him from answering Galagar's question.
"The nice merchant gave it to me. He said it would keep me safe from sea monsters."
That is all the answer Galagar needs.
Lone travelers are often followers of Incarnates. And they are the most efficient tools for spreading these Gods' influence.
However, a single "gift" from a traveler bearing the Rune of an Incarnate does not always guarantee that a village will be turned into followers. It only offers a possibility. And for a village this small, that possibility is very slim. Even more so when they are already worshipping Angels.
But is Galagar going to let the village go just because the chance of them turning into followers of Incarnates is as small as a single speck of sand on the nearby shore?
Galagar stands and his fury immediately bursts forth like a sudden tempest, reinstating fear in the Humans' hearts and inspiring action in the seafaring Gigants'. Shadowed water form in both of Galagar's hands, turning into a shield and spear constantly billowing with ocean-like waves.
The incensed gaze of a ravager sweeps over the village. Galagar's voice bellows above all. "Leave none alive!"
