Page 36 of Old Secrets

While my father shook his head, something about the gesture puzzled me. “Oh, no. I was alive then, but I was still a part of the sea clan. We did not inhabit those mountains until after the land settled and became quite a bit less grouchy. Time does not pass for us the same way it does for you. Sometimes, we decide to sleep for a while, and we will wake up after a thousand years in our sanctuary, unaware of how the world passed us by. We would often emerge as foxes and explore, getting a feel for the land and learning the latest flavor of language to be spoken nearby. We would have a litter, set them loose on the world, and watch over them until they breathed their last, returning them to the Earth before sleeping once more. We have stayed awake longer than normal this time.”

I would need to remember my father was a coy being, able to tell many lies with a shake or nod of his head.

Foxes were known for being wily, and I pondered on the possibility my parents were the true cause of their reputation.

“Yamāntaka will not let us rest,” my mother added, and she waved her hand, and the sand fell back into the tray. “Before there were gods, all that mattered to humanity was survival. Then they learned to walk, and their quest for survival became a quest for power. This is when the first god was born. We call him Greed in whatever language we happen to speak at the time. Greed is a deity most worship at least once in their lives, and as such, Greed is a being of true power, holding sway over all.”

Jake stared at the sands, and deep lines creased his brow. “Is this embodiment, Greed as you call him, what started this whole mess with this group?”

My parents nodded, and my mother said, “From Greed came the other gods in all branches of humanity. The intent of the greed determined if the humans created dark gods or beings of light. It was many years ago. How many do you think?” My mother said something to my father in a fluid, melodic language, and after a moment, he grinned and replied.

Then my father turned his attention to me. “I truly don’t know if you can comprehend how long this group has walked the lands, plaguing us and robbing us of our children and sanctuary, all in their pursuit of Greed. By naming themselves Yamāntaka, they seek to make themselves into gods. This is very in line with Greed’s rise to power and status as eternal. Their efforts will accomplish nothing on that score. Greed will persist long after they are not even a memory to us, washed away in the sands of time.”

I could think of a scale I could compute, as it was readily accepted humanity had not been around during the age of dinosaurs. That my parents had existed so long ago made me question everything I’d known about life and existence.

Could someone like me even remain sane after millions of years?

“Did dinosaurs still roam the Earth?” I asked.

My father reached across the table and patted his hand on the surface. At first, my mother huffed and ignored him, and they played a game where he tapped insistently and she refused his request. After a few minutes, she slid the tray my way, and I passed it to my father.

Water manifested in his hand, and he added it to the sand, recreating Everest but instead of cloaking her in snow, water streamed down her faces, pooling at her base.

I couldn’t tell if my mother contributed her power or if my father could also control the sand.

After a short time, the water began to freeze, beginning with Everest’s peak and ending at the base, encasing the entire mountain in ice. “No, no. Their time ended before mankind’s began. And while there were asteroids and volcanoes that contributed to their loss, in truth, they died to the Earth doing as she does. She changed, and the climate became unsuitable for their life. The strongest survived. How? That I can’t tell you. We slept then, waking before Everest stirred. Then we watched her and everything around her freeze, and we slept again until the land was ready for us. It was then we were paired—and thus began our end.” My father pressed his finger to Everest’s tip, and the ice began to melt away. “You know those religious texts that discuss a great flood?”

“I do,” I replied, wondering what the story of Noah’s Flood had to do with my parents—and fearing what sort of truth they might fling at me next.

My father waved his hand, and the mountain of sand settled back into the tray, taking the shape of a beach with gentle waves lapping at the shore. “Humanity rose during an ice age, growing in the warmer places along the equator,” my father explained. “When the ice began to recede, flooding happened. This became the foundation for Noah’s Flood. If there was an ark, I never saw any evidence of it, but humanity sheltered in the higher places of the world while everything else melted away. Seas grew, driving humanity away from the oceans. Humanity created its stories to explain what they did not understand. That is part of how they created so many gods, with Greed being the one most common. When the flood waters receded, that is when Yamāntaka began to form, although they did not call themselves that until much, much later. It was thousands of years before humanity refined itself enough to create rituals and establish true religions. But for the sake of our discussion, it was shortly after humanity’s refinement that our troubles began.”

While I questioned his use of refinement, I decided to focus on the more relevant part of the discussion. “What started everything?”

My father’s gaze fell on my mother. His expression was one of ancient anguish, while hers was one of quiet grief. Finally, she sighed. “Humanity discovered us and believed us to be gods—and no matter how hard we tried, we could not convince them otherwise.”

TEN

Forgiveness only mattered if it helped me heal.

The truth hurt, and while I would need some quality time with Mellisa to untangle my mess of emotions, I worried for my parents.

The idea of someone living hundreds of years bothered me. Thousands of years horrified me.

But to live millions of years, broken by episodes of sleep, to wake to a life of tragedy and grief? I marveled at their strength and determination to survive. How? Why?

How many children had they buried over their long lives? The shock of knowing I had brothers and sisters I’d never meet battled with my awareness of many lifetimes of grief and suffering.

The sheer amount of strength needed to persist despite all those things astounded me.

How?

How could anyone survive through that?

I doubted I could pick up that many broken pieces with any hope of emerging sane. Yet while they both carried their burdens, they did so with grace.

I’d witnessed insanity more times than I cared about. I’d dipped my toes into those waters, but I’d somehow emerged from the experience changed but able to forge a new future for myself. I’d learned to accept what I couldn’t change, and I’d embraced the value of moving on. I struggled with the forgiveness element of things, but I’d also learned I was under no obligation to forgive anyone for anything.

The only thing I needed to do was accept the damage done and move on.