Okay, so this is a very small story. The only reason why it is here is that it is mentioned briefly in the other story I've posted called "Star-Crossed: Between Past & Future"

The story is meant to be "old", hence the somewhat stocky grammatics. Anyway, it's about how one should be careful with prayers and making bargins with bods in general.
Soo... read away.


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“The blunt soul”

There once was a man named Armann who had nothing. He had neither profession nor land to call his own. Then one day he met a beautiful woman and the two fell in love. The father of the woman does not want his only child to marry someone who cannot keep a roof over her head and so, they were not allowed to get each other. In sorrow Armann prayed to the gods above to help him win his love. One goddess answered and the two struck a deal. The man became rich and the goddess got the future of his future children. The children would live their lives as was fated, but their fate ultimately belonged to the goddess


Years went by and Armann received three sons. All did they live a prosperous life. Then one day his sons became ill. He spent a fortune to find the right medicine to save his sons, but nothing helped. The goddess now appeared and proclaimed that she soon would come and take his children away. On his knees he begged her to save their life. The goddess considered and agreed to spare them, if he was to give her the love that existed between him and his wife in payment. At first Armann refused. But seeing that all of his fortune had been used to save his sons, he knew that he could no longer support his wife or their children. Armann then chose to accept the goddess offer, and allow his sons and wife to live prosperous lives on his own behalf. Like said, so it was done. The sons survived and the wife left the man. He himself was bound by debt by one of his rivals, to whom he had bought the medicine.


For months he labored under the whip until one day Armann had enough and confronted his rival. A fight followed and Armann accidently killed his master. Fearing for his life he prayed to the goddess once more. For his life she demanded that he should leave behind everything he holds dear. He should cease contact to his sons and leave the city behind. Armann agreed quickly to the barging and fled the city that same night. With him he brought the rivals weapons and armor. Using these he became a wandering mercenary who fought for whoever lord, rebel or bandit-king would hire him.


For years he travelled far and wide with sword in hand, never finding rest one place before hunger, cold and promise of the next meal forced him to move on. Then one fateful day during a battle he was deadly wounded in the leg by an opponent who wore a face concealing helmet. In return Armann cut off his opponents arm before he fell. Behind the battle lines Armann once again feared for his life. He called out the goddess’ name. The first time she did not answer, nor the second. The third time she appeared. Looking down at him she told him that his many bargains had made him worthless. Like a knife that loses its value by continuously being traded between owners, Armann’s soul had become rusty, blunt and less valuable to the gods. His soul was not worth the flesh which chained it. Still Armann begged and pleaded, wept and promised. Finally the goddess gave in, but she reminded him that this would be the last time he could hope to have his prayers heard. And that, by the value of his soul, he would only get to live while his wound would never fully heal. He accepted the terms and was spared death once more.


Armann was no longer able to live as a soldier. In the next city he sought work in the only skill he had acquired himself, that of taking lives. With his wound the only work he could do was that of an executioner. For years he beheaded, hung, separated and tortured those that had been less fortune than him. Then one day a young man was thrown at his feet him to behead. In that moment Armann recognized the man as one of his sons. In the kings dungeons they talked and Armann was told that the son in front of him was the only one left. The first son had been sentenced to death for the murder of his father’s old rival, and for stealing his precious weapons and armor. The second son had worked as a soldier and he had died suddenly by blood loss after losing an arm. And the son in front of him was sentenced to death after stealing from the king in order to feed his own family.


Armann was angry that the goddess had tricked him like that and he called her, cursing her name. The goddess appeared and confirmed the son’s story. Armann had merely traded his own fate for that of another. And the fates the goddess had already possessed were that of the sons. Armann had first exchanged his fate as a murderer with that of his first son. The second son had been destined to survive his wound, but Armann had taken that fate to himself. The third son still had his own fate, but now Armann would be unable to save his son because Armann’s soul had become blunt beyond the reaches of fate itself. No god would ever want the worthless soul that belongs to Armann. He would be destined to live forever with the blood of his sons on his hands.


Armann now called the goddess into question, saying that their second barging had been to save his sons. The goddess smiled back and responded that she had tried to save his second and third son from their current fates, but that Armann had insisted on her intervention. A knife is to know when it is to be thrown out she told him before leaving.