People call me their saviour, but really, I’m just a twisted bastard.
It goes back years, actually. One of my ancestors was unfaithful to his wife, so he was cursed by his father-in-law that he would lose the youth and vigour that had made him attractive to women in the first place. My ancestor begged and pleaded for a reprieve, and was told he could exchange his old age with someone.
Not being content to break just his wife’s heart, my ancestor asked each of his five sons to sacrifice their youth for him, and take his old age in exchange. Only one of them agreed. Angered by the refusal of his oldest son, my ancestor disowned him immediately, decreeing instead that the only son who agreed to take on his father’s curse would inherit the kingdom.
(What can I say, we’re all a pretty twisted bunch.)
That oldest son was the founder of my clan. In his older years, he’d tell his sons that they could strive all they wanted, but they would never be kings like their cousins.
(Don’t blame him, the loss of his kingdom hit him pretty hard.)
Our clan grew in strength and importance, but we were never kings, just as our founding father predicted. Instead, we seemed to be stuck in the role of king-makers.
Our cousins came to us all the time, asking for help solving some petty issue or the other, and more and more it became apparent that they were not truly fit to rule.
We didn’t make an outright grab for power, though. Good things come to those who wait, and our clan has a long habit of patience – especially when it comes to revenge.
Featuring cross-dressing assassins, were-snakes, gods and goddesses, demonesses and asura kings, Dark Things Between the Shadow and the Soul retells age-old tales from Indian mythology—with a twist. Rearranging myth and legend to create new plots, these short stories will delight lovers of the unusual.
Image from Morguefile.com, with thanks.
[music| In my head – Tokyo et Paris]