When The Shepherd is exiled from the city he ruled for mismanagement, he buries himself in the side of an icy mountain and awaits to fulfill his destiny. In the far corner of the Universe, The Wolf is plotting to overtake his beloved city and exploit it to avenge his grievance against the Creator. During the years of apathy and lack of resolve following the Shepherd’s exile, the townspeople forget their collective history and purpose. An old myth told by the elders claims that in the endtimes the Raven will fight the Dove for dominance and the city will divide into two camps for the final war. One side is destined for union with the Creator and the other side is damned eternally to despairing silence. The townsfolk do not know how the town will divide but recognize the time is near. In this tale of revelation and horror, we discover the true meaning of divine human will and how profound the longing for freedom truly is.
I chopped his head off. I chopped the stupid fucker’s head off.
He had been restless for days, sitting, standing. He couldn’t move. His legs must have been weak. He couldn’t resist making noise. He was getting loud. He sounded afraid. I chopped his head off. There, now it is finished.
I forgot to mention who I am. I am Grace, the Shepherd. When I laugh, the girls think I am foolish. But I am laughing at life. At absurdity. At all things. When I laugh, the trumpets go off. When I smile, a baby is born. I am Grace. Some people never understand.
Don’t we all feel misunderstood at some point in the game that is life? I recall a certain sentiment, “The meek shall inherit the earth.” A great man said this. His short, disheveled appearance made the words all the more unique, they say. People believed in him. They don’t anymore.