It had been a few moments since even the last two dragons had left; only the newcomers remained on the tower. It was only then that Zamor seemed to regain his wits and was able to think again. Instinctively, he leaned back against a railing and sat down. It wasn't exactly behavior worthy of a person of high rank, much less an ambassador, but at the moment he didn't care. The amount of information he had received was far too much, too great. Whether they even saw him as an indecorous weakling didn't matter to him.
He felt like he was being crushed; even though he knew it wasn't true, it seemed to him that he was carrying the entire weight of a mountain on his shoulders at that moment, as if the giant skeleton of the dragon called Balagaberan had suddenly shifted or simply disappeared, and the three kilometers of earth, sand and rock on top of him had fallen on him and he now had to hold them with his own strength. A naturally impossible task, so it was normal that his energy had completely vanished from his body, as if something had sucked it away, and even though he sat now he felt tired and exhausted as never in his life. The weight of the revelations he had heard in the last fifteen minutes was too much for a mere lizardman like him.
So, the gods didn't exist. Or rather, they existed, but they weren't at all the omnipotent beings who created the world as he used to believe. Zamor had never been a very religious person, but like any newcomer to Ramat, he had faith in a deity. Discovering that the aforementioned deity was not really a superior being, but a creature generated by the ancient catastrophe that had devastated the world, moreover born by pure chance, and that it was not a benevolent entity and attentive to the needs of their faithful followers but a selfish being interested only in their own profit… he didn't even know what was the feeling he was experiencing at that moment. It was as if his world had turned upside down, and evil had become good and good had become evil. Everything had lost its meaning. And indeed, now that the veil of lies with which he was born and raised had been broken, Zamor had to admit that in retrospect, what Akenothustar had said made perfect sense... after all, if the gods cared anything about their worshippers, why make them suffer? Why hadn't any god worshiped by the beastmen lifted a finger when Carrion enslaved and tortured them? Why had they let the innocent fall victim to the wicked? A benevolent god wouldn't have stood idly by. Only a cruel and selfish god could have remained impassive in the face of so much suffering. And since the world was continually torn apart by wars, abuses, miseries, famines, epidemics and all other kinds of evils, then also the other gods must have cared little for their faithful. Indeed, perhaps they would not have even disdained to see so much pain raging on Ramat: after all, the people who suffered the most tended to appeal more to the gods, and from what Zamor understood, the gods were hungry for the faith of mortals...
Zamor gritted his teeth and brought a hand in front of his face. How had he been fooled like that? How could he have believed that the gods were good, or that they listened to the prayers of mortals, or even that they gave a damn about them, after all he had seen and happened to him and his people? How could he have continued to worship them even after they had allowed so many innocents… so many children… his own son… to die for no reason? It was obvious that the stories about gods protecting their worshipers were just mere falsehoods. Then why had he, Zamor, needed a dragon that died twenty thousand years ago to understand it? Why hadn't he figured it out himself? Why didn't the whole world understand this, when there was only suffering in the whole world? Perhaps, he thought, he simply hadn't wanted to understand, like everyone else. Perhaps he had refused to see how things really were because it was easier to believe a beautiful lie than to accept a horrible truth.
He felt cheated, betrayed, used. He was furious. He wanted to scream the names of all the gods he knew and curse them, but for some reason unknown to him the voice would not leave his throat. No, it wasn't true: he knew very well what the reason was. The truth was that part of him still feared the gods, that he still hoped to find out that it was all false, that Akenothustar was a liar, even though rationality and evidence were on his side. He wished he were like those religious fanatics who, even in the face of all-encompassing evidence that what they were doing was wrong, still saw only right. He hated himself for being so weak; how could he wish not to see the truth? How could he wish to live a lie? Pathetic. Yes, he could only call himself pathetic. There was no other way to define himself. If he had had any dignity he would have stood up and spat on the names of the gods, and then fought to free his own people from that lie as well. This was what a leader would do. But he wasn't a leader, he was just a fisherman who had found himself having to lead an entire people without wanting to and who owed at least three quarters of his successes to a dragon he didn't even trust, and who now had received the most incredible truth could be received, and now, exactly like the pathetic being that he was, he wished he'd never heard such a revelation.
"Are you okay?"
Zamor looked up slightly and saw a large spider body in front of him. Arethar had approached him and was now looking at him with compassionate eyes. "Sorry" he said. "I know you're not okay. You're not the first surface dweller to come to this city, and everyone reacted the same way you did when they found out the truth"
Despite the situation, those words intrigued Zamor. He didn't find implausible that someone before them had discovered the city of the arachnes, and then they had been 'invited' by them to stay and therefore could never reveal their existence to the world. However, he couldn't figure out how these people had come to know the truth, since that sort of… memory… was activated only with the blood of a dragon. "How did you tell them? Isn't there a spell that prevents you from doing it?"
"That's right" Arethar replied, pointing to the tablets. "However, we can teach. And since those people had a lot of time on their hands, unlike you, we taught them to read what is written in the ancient scriptures. Once they learned, they could read for themselves. The ancient scriptures have the truth engraved on them, although it is much less detailed than what the recollection of the noble Akenothustar told. And so, they learned the truth, and all of them reacted like you. They were afraid and felt disoriented"
Yes, that was the exact way Zamor felt. "You are strangely well informed. Have you ever met any of these people?"
"No, but our supreme priest did. And he told me how it went" Arethar answered. "I know you feel lost right now, but try to hold on. You will see, time will heal your wounds. Now that you too know the truth, your eyes can no longer be clouded by the lies of the gods"
Zamor giggled hysterically. "Why are you so nice to me? I could understand before that you had to keep up a facade, but now? From what I understand, my ancestors sided with the gods and contributed to their cause. You should hate me"
"What our ancestors did belongs to the past. I don't blame people if they are led astray by deceit and lies. None of us do. The gods are to blame" Arethar replied. "But the deceived cannot be punished, at least not completely. And you, as far as I know, haven't committed any atrocities on behalf of the gods, so I have no reason to fear you, much less hate you. Besides, you were already seeing the truth even before I arrived, otherwise you wouldn't have collaborated with the lords of the world so much; you just needed an incentive to break the veil of lies"
Zamor let out a slight snort. In fact, now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember the last time he'd prayed. Perhaps he really had slowly begun to reject the gods, though not completely until now. "I'm not like you. I don't worship dragons"
"We don't worship dragons. We simply accept them as lords of this world, because it is their birthright and no one more than they could be able to bring peace and prosperity" Arethar replied. "What we worship is the ideal that the lords of the world have offered us: a peaceful civilization where all are treated equally and aimed only at development, governed by the lords of the world in a benevolent and just manner. You and all your people, even if you didn't know it, you have largely embraced this philosophy and have allowed the lords of the world to help and guide you. This makes you like us. Also, even if you wouldn't accept dragons as lords of this world, it wouldn't do for us difference as long as you continued to strive to create a perfect civilization. The lords of the world don't claim veneration like the gods, worshiping them is our choice; the important thing is that our actions are aimed at a higher purpose"
Zamor didn't know if it was because his mind was currently in turmoil, but he found himself in complete agreement with the arachne. Right, who cared if someone didn't worship the dragons? Certainly not the dragons themselves. The important thing was the actions, the continuous attempt to create something better. He felt inspired by Arethar's words, and it seemed to him that a faint warmth was warming the chill of his heart. Reluctantly, he accepted the hand the arachne was offering him and let him help him to his feet. He didn't know what to make of the arachnes' faith or philosophy, but he would think about it later, when his mind was clearer; now, it was best to use all the help he could get to compose himself and decide his next move.
"Oh, you recovered. Well, your friend here just got up too" Iflhet's voice suddenly said, and the arachne appeared in his field of vision, approaching and helping a quite distraught Isaac walk. The mage must still be quite groggy, for he was leaning on the supreme priest's shoulder for balance.
Zamor smiled slightly at that scene. "You too couldn't stand up, mh?"
Isaac chuckled. "I fell to my knees. My legs still hurt from the blow" he replied. "Let's just say it's been... a pretty rough day"
"Did you believe in any god?" the lizardman asked, not remembering ever having seen the man pray.
Isaac shrugged. "Well... I believed in the Goddess of Magic, like all mages... but I had never been very attentive to her dictates... maybe I was a pseudo-believer or something. I always felt guilty for the my lack of faith. I guess now I don't have to be anymore... it was a shocking revelation, but at least I got a weight off"
Zamor nodded. In fact, Isaac had always struck him as someone who didn't rely much on the gods; in a world like the one they lived in it was impossible for someone not to believe in at least one god, but there was an abysmal difference between a pseudo-believer and a religious fanatic. The lizardman looked around and noticed that the tower was less full of people, and not just because of the absence of dragons. "Where have Misune, Efren and Atelas gone?"
"Your companions, unlike you, recovered a little faster and went down the stairs" Iflhet answered. "We didn't do it, because the lords of the world have declared their will to remain alone, and going down we would risk meeting them and therefore opposing their desire; but we didn't even stop your companions, since following the orders of the lords of the world is a choice, not an imposition"
Zamor smiled even more. Here was free will again; the religion of the arachnes was really strange... and interesting. "So you will just wait for them here?"
"As long as necessary" Iflhet answered. "Will you wait with us?"
Zamor looked at Isaac, who nodded. "Why not? In the meantime, you could teach me how to read these tablets"
"It will take you a long time to learn the language of the ancient scriptures" Arethar replied, leading him to the tablets. "But I'll do my best to teach you. So first of all..."
Zamor watched that scene without ceasing to smile. He didn't know why, but he liked it. He had lost his faith that day, but perhaps he had gained something more.