Son Of The Soil...part 1

there is no better time than the present to start a story of old. this is no ordinary story...it is the true account of a grieving son and his quest to see evil sought justice come to light. 
the wind seemed to blow ever so softly on my face. the crowd that had gathered to witness my execution was beyond definition. here was the man who had killed their beloved saviour, their black Jesus. I'm about to die anyway so let's leave the formal introductions for those who don't have a noose staring at them menacingly.

i killed a man, a man who was adored by all and yet it seemed i was the only one who had come to hate him. the saddest part is, he was my father. there are several who believe i was mad or possessed to have even thought of such a deed, yet they claim to know him, the man i stabbed and stood over as he took his final anguished breath. i have no excuse what i did and i do not seek your sympathy, i just want to be heard. i would have to start from the very beginning...

a boy was born on day of the first ever documented eclipse. he was the only male child born that day and the only child to survive to see the dawn of the next morning. in this little village, veneration of would be lesser gods was the norm and this occurrence was seen as a bad omen. had the child not been born in the family of the high priest of the land, he would have definitely been killed and his whole family exiled to rid the land of foul spirits. the high priest was his grand father.