A Scientific Rejection, Book I: The Making (On Indefinite Hiatus)

Chapter Seven (D): At the Mention of the Mortimus

          This work, A Scientific Rejection, is copyrighted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. This includes all chapters, prologues/epilogues and associated content (i.e fanfics, teasers and content within blogs, social networks and eReaders). Any unauthorised copying, broadcasting, manipulation, distribution or selling of this work constitutes as an infringement of copyright. Any infringement of this copyright is punishable by law. Any associated links, videos or photographs are not the property of the author, and no assertion of copyright or ownership is made or intended.

__________________________________________________________

Chapter Seven (D): At the Mention of the Mortimus

               Over the next several days, Mortimus found that the most reliable means of keeping Warrick on task was to satisfy his curiosity, a little at the time, and then help him to refocus on the task at hand.

          During magically enhanced combat training, Warrick began again to ask questions. “I’m not an Origin, but I am a shapeshifter, right?”

“Wrong. You are a shapeshifter because you are an Origin,” Mortimus answered patiently.

“You said I wasn’t exactly like you,” protested Warrick.

“You are not exactly like me. Your Other Part is quite different from an Origin. We have reason to believe it is that part that has helped to fully awaken the blood of the Origin within you.”

“What is my Other Part?” he asked, curiously.

“That is something you will need to discover for yourself, Young One. Now, focus!” he ordered, hitting Warrick in his side with a ball of fire.

+        +        +

A few weeks later, Warrick again became curious, during what should have been training in meditation. “If your real name is Adeyemi, and you are the Maximus Rex, why do they call you Mortimus?” he asked, curiously. “For that matter, why do you sometimes refer to yourself as The Mortimus?”

Mortimus opened his eyes, as he sat, legs crossed, in a field near the Pack House, and looked at his student thoughtfully. Seeing that he could no longer sit still on his mat due to his curiosity, he began to explain.

          “People have called The Origin by many names,” he answered. “However, their understanding of our nature has always been limited, and so they mostly viewed us as gods, rather than as servants of God. Unfortunately, this belief led them to make up gossip about us that was about as credible as any tabloid headline, and is known as Mythology today. Any time that a misfortune or a blessing befell them, they would credit them to our intervention, though usually nothing could be farther from the truth. For instance, in Egyptian tradition, I was Ptah, husband of Sekhmet, because your grandmother’s usual transformations involve cats, like the lioness.”

          “However, some of the most unfortunate outcomes came at the hands of the Romans. Because they believed we were these petty, squabbling deities, the Romans often chose actions that defied logic and common sense. One time, we knew that a volcano would be erupting in what is now modern day Italy, and so I ensured that the people would receive ample warning, in the form of smoke and small rumbles leading up to it. When they still wouldn’t leave, I even appealed to their leaders directly, and warned them of their impending doom. Rather than heeding our warnings, the majority of those leaders encouraged the people to hold parties and to sacrifice their children by tossing them inside the volcano, seeking to preserve their power, and their way of life.” He paused, shaking his head. “After the volcanic eruption killed everyone who stayed, many who had seen me began to refer to me as the Spirit of Wrath or the Spirit of Death. They settled upon The Animus Mortis or The Mortis Animus. Eventually, it was shortened to The Mortimus, and so it remains today.”