I was a godkiller.
Don’t get me wrong, I did it for all the right reasons, or at least I thought I did.
We need to go back, though.
I was nearing fourteen summers when I was pushed off a cliff. He-Who-Is-The-Weather was having a bad moment during the hunt, and he spoke with four of his warriors to attack me. I had always been different, lighter colored than the rest of the tribe, considered an interloper with the rest of the English that had come in that winter long ago, when I was very, very small. They told me my born-parents died that winter, and Swims-Like-A-Beaver accepted me into their home and taught me how to live.
They called me Fox because I was always hiding things or getting my way out of things. The sachem called me Black Fox, as a play on my hair which is as yellow as the sun.
I was one of them, or so I thought, and so I lived their ways, which became my ways, even until this very day. I knew of Hino, the god of Thunder and rain, to whom we appeased and left sacrifices on sacred hills. So we prayed to Sky Woman to intercede for us, to speak and ask Hino to calm a storm or bring us rain. She usually answered, in Her own time.
He-Who-Is-Weather and I, along with four hunters, were to hunt out deer. We had gone most of the day and found nothing, and it was time to either decide to camp or return home. They had spoken, and I was looking out upon the Three-Rock Falls, when they pushed me off. I remembered hitting stone, and breaking something before crying out to Sky Woman to save me.
She did, in Her own time.
I was saved that day, but told that my tribe, what you call the Tuscarora, would be no more soon. “Soon” is relative. However, She had asked me to return to the Algonquian, far north of Her people of the South. Is it there, that I, still looking seventeen summers old, that I first learned other languages, other cultures, and how to learn them.
But that is ancient history. Back to being a godslayer.
I had come to Germany, a land I felt home in, and lived among the Germans in 1932. So many things happened, so much politics, so many changes. I rode the tide of the National Socialists, became and SS officer, and would be part of the re-education camps for a short while. Then the gods came to me.
An experiment in writing something in Casey’s voice. Not very good.