{Theme Song: Repetition, TV on the Radio}
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Location: Muchovan Camp, Effenta
Cringe.
That’s what people did when he spoke to them, walked by,
made eye contact…sometimes at the mere mention of his name. He’d seen it as if his name were a command.
Muchovans didn’t use birth names –
your name should say something about you before you say a word – so said the
tradition. So while a baby is given a
legal name, your so-called “paper name”, it’s the name earned through action that matters. Unfortunately, more thought went into
Muchovan name theory than the clichéd, obvious names given. Well, in most instances.
Cringe was actually quite
good. It was both accurate and
descriptive and, the best part, intended as an insult.
Muchovan men sought to be named after
fierce animals, but some were named for plants and even a few after inanimate
objects – there was a fellow called Woodblock in camp; as you might guess, he
was practical, but an idiot. None were
named after a reaction. This was a
statement – he was not one of them.
What was intended as an insult, the
man in question took as highest praise.
He had no desire to be Muchovan. Even in his personal thoughts he spat the
word with distaste.
He’d received the name after
winning the trials – he wasn’t sure his paper name had even been requested –
not that he’d have given it. He’d been a
despised outsider from the beginning, but after a chaotic year of deliberation,
the Prime Counselor had finally endorsed a candidate to succeed the Great
Jaguar – him. And you did not ignore
Asp. Just like his name suggested, he
was a venomous, mean, treacherous old viper.
Cringe personally detested the man, but at that moment the Muchovan
people had probably hated Asp even more.
Cringe was neither what they’d
expected nor wanted. They were a
straight forward people: they respected
strength and fearlessness – even when it was stupid and shortsighted. Cringe had his own view on things.
While no one would dare say he
lacked these sought after attributes, he had won their competition through
cleverness rather than brute force – and to a man every single defeated
opponent had cried foul at his method.
By the end upcoming opponents had cringed when they heard they’d have to
face him. The battle had been his before
it’d even begun.
But of course the losers didn’t
want this knee-jerk reaction to be attributed to fearing him. That’d mark them as cowards and that wouldn’t
do at all. No, they cringed at his rudeness,
his lack of respect for their customs and traditions, his outrageous dress and
manners, his sarcasm and secretiveness, etc., etc., ad naseum… Yes, to sum up,
everything about him was an affront to good and decent Muchovan people.
Yet he’d won it all and now they
were irrevocably bound by their own short-sighted tradition. By law, with no option of appeal, he
commanded their army, and they hated him for it.
Then he’d continued to win the real
battles and suddenly being named for a fierce attribute was a compliment.
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