By feebadger 1 Comments
We stood in the ruins of what was once the temple of Kaan. The fires had long since died down and we saw now the cavernous pit which had laid below the grounds, the pit which had held all the energies of my world. Besides me stood the Silver Surfer, his wounds having healed over the previous weeks since our encounter with Galactus, his spirit still very much wounded.
“The temple was built as a reservoir, a dam, my friend.” He said, his voice now stripped of power. “It was the Pious who had deprived you of your peoples birthright, of the land around you. They sought to first control you and then to destroy you, as is the way with such things.”
“Our gods can be very cruel can’t they?” I remarked jokingly. The Surfer shot a pained smile back at me.
“Yes. They can.”
We fumbled through the remaining debris, looking for any remaining trinkets or items of value. All members of The Pious had been committed to the most hideous task known to their kind; farm work and it was they who now fought daily to bring life from the earth. Yet, the earth now was good, plump with life and it seemed strange that, in some part, it was due to the machinations of a dark god. I eyed the Surfer for a moment and spoke out loud, the question all had feared to ask.
“Is he dead, Surfer? Is Galactus truly dead.”
The surfer did not react, as if he had been expecting it.
“With beings such as those, who can really say, my friend. All I do know for certain is that when creatures like Galactus are destroyed, something, else rushes in to fill the space. I think all we can hope for is that we truly enjoy the moments in between.”
Satisfied with his answer, a silence hung between us for a moment, before, sensing my opportunity, I asked of him the questions which had swirled in my head for weeks.
“My friend, what was it that you remembered when freed from the chains of Galactus? Who are you?”
For a moment I thought I had offended him as he walked away toward the remains of the great temple door. Then he paused and looked over his shoulder, tilting his head in a gesture to follow, which I did, out into the brilliant sun of morning.
“I have done many terrible deeds in my life… More than I have a right to proclaim and though a great many things were through the machinations of Galactus… I am not sure which I should feel responsible for. My friend… I do not know if I am truly ready to say who I am.”
We walked through the square and out through the gates into the great fields of lush, vibrant green which laid beyond.
“Well…” I said absently, “You might still have a name though, yes? I mean, even gods have names, don’t they?”
The Silver Surfer smiled for a moment before stopping and stretching out his hand.
“Norrin Radd.” He said, “My name is Norrin Radd.”
“Turra.” I replied, taking his glistening hand firmly in my own, “My name is, Turra.”
Then we walked on into the endless meadows of Iguaam and I smiled, a deep resonant smile of peace.
For he knew my name.
A god knew my name.